The Ledge on Bald Face Part 10

"Quit plaguin' the kid, Long," he drawled. "The cash'll be all there when Tug Blackstock gits back, an' it'll save a lot of trouble an'

misunderstandin', havin' him to see to dividin' it up fair an' square.

Let Woolly Billy out."

Long Jackson shook his head obstinately, and opened his mouth to reply, but at this moment Woolly Billy found his voice.

"Let me out! Let me out! _Let me out!_" he screamed shrilly, stamping his feet and clenching his little fists.

Instantly a heavy body was hurled upon the outside of the door, striving to break it in.

Zeb Smith swung his long legs down from the counter hurriedly.

"The kid's right, an' Black Dan's right. Open the door, Long, an' do it quick. I don't want that there dawg comin' through the winder. An'

he'll be doin' it, too, in half a jiff."

"Git along, then, Woolly, if ye insist on it. But no more peppermints, mind," growled Jackson, throwing open the door and stepping back discreetly. As he did so, Jim came in with a rush, just saving himself from knocking Woolly Billy over. One swift glance a.s.sured him that the child was all right, but very angry about something.

"It's all right, Jim. Come with me," said Woolly Billy, tugging at the animal's collar. And the pair stalked away haughtily side by side.

III

Tug Blackstock arrived the next morning about eleven. Before he had time to sit down for a cup of that strenuous black tea which the woodsmen consume at all hours, he had heard from Woolly Billy's eager lips the story of the hole in the tree beneath the fish-hawk's nest.

He heard also of the episode at Zeb Smith's store, but Woolly Billy by this time had quite forgiven Long Jackson, so the incident was told in such a way that Blackstock had no reason to take offence.

"Long tried _hard_," said the child, "to get me to tell where that hole was, but I _wouldn't_. And Black Dan was awful nice, an' made him stop botherin' me, an' said I was quite right not to tell _anybody_ till you came home, coz you'd know just what to do."

"H'm!" said the Deputy-Sheriff thoughtfully, "Long's had a lot of money stole from him, so, of course, he wanted to git his eyes on to that hole quick. But 'tain't like Black Dan to be that thoughtful. Maybe he _hasn't_ had none taken."

While he was speaking, a bunch of the mill-hands arrived at the door, word of Blackstock's return having gone through the village.

"We want to go an' help ye find that traysure, Tug," said Long Jackson, glancing somewhat sheepishly at Woolly Billy. A friendly grin from the child rea.s.sured him, and he went on with more confidence:

"We tried to git the kiddie to tell us where 'twas, but wild steers wouldn't drag it out o' him till you got back."

"That's right, Long," agreed Blackstock, "but it don't need to be no expedition. We don't want the whole village traipsin' after us. You an' three or four more o' the boys that's lost money come along, with Woolly Billy an' me, an' the rest o' you meet us at the store in about a couple o' hours' time. Tell any other folks you see that I don't want 'em follerin' after us, because it may mix up things--an' anyways, I don't want it, see!"

After a few moments' hesitation and consultation the majority of the mill-hands turned away, leaving Long Jackson and big Andy Stevens, the blue-eyed giant from the Oromocto (who had been one of the chief victims), and MacDonald, and Black Saunders, and Black Dan (whose name had been Dan Black till the whim of the woodsmen turned it about).

Blackstock eyed them appraisingly.

"I didn't know as _you'd_ bin one o' the victims too, Dan," he remarked.

"Didn't ye, Tug?" returned Black with a short laugh. "Well, I didn't say nawthin about it, coz I was after doin' a leetle detective work on me own, an' mebbe I'd 'ave got in ahead o' ye if Woolly Billy here hadn't 'a' been so smart. But I tell ye, Tug, if that there traysure's the lot we're thinkin' it is, there'd ought ter be a five-dollar bill in it what I've marked."

"H'm!" grunted the Deputy, hastily gulping down the last of his tea, and rising to his feet. "But Woolly Billy an' me and Jim's a combination pretty hard to git ahead of, I'm thinkin'."

As the party neared the bluff whereon the tree of the fish-hawk's nest stood ragged against the sky, the air grew rank with the pungent odour of skunk. Now skunks were too common in the region of Brine's Rip Mills for that smell, as a rule, to excite any more comment than an occasional disgusted execration when it became too concentrated. But to-day it drew more than pa.s.sing attention. MacDonald sniffed intently.

"It's deuced queer," said he, "but I've noticed that there's always been a smell of skunk round when anybody's lost anything. Did it ever strike you that way, Tug?"

"Yes, some!" a.s.sented the Deputy curtly.

"It's a skunk, all right, that's been takin' our money," said big Andy, "ef he _don't_ carry his tail over his back."

Every one of the party was sniffing the tainted air as if the familiar stench were some rare perfume--all but Jim. He had had an encounter with a skunk, once in his impulsive puppy days, and the memory was too painful to be dwelt upon.

As they climbed the slope, one of the fish-hawks came swooping down from somewhere high in the blue, and began circling on slow wings about the nest.

"That cross old bird doesn't like visitors," remarked Woolly Billy.

"You wouldn't, neether, Woolly Billy, if you was a fish-hawk," said Jackson.

Arrived at the tree, Woolly Billy pointed eagerly to a slightly broken piece of bark a little above the height of the Deputy's head.

"_There's_ the hole!" he cried, clapping his hands in his excitement as if relieved to find it had not vanished.

"Keep off a bit now, boys," cautioned Blackstock. Drawing his long hunting-knife, he carefully loosened the bark without letting his hand come in contact with it, and on the point of the blade laid it aside against the foot of the trunk.

"Don't any of you tech it," he admonished.

Then he slipped his hand into the hole, and felt about.

A look of chagrin came over his face, and he withdrew his hand--empty.

"Nothin' there!" said he.

"It was there yesterday morning," protested Woolly Billy, his blue eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, yes, of course," agreed Blackstock, glancing slowly around the circle of disappointed faces.

"Somebody from the store's been blabbin'," exclaimed Black Dan, in a loud and angry voice.

"An' why not?" protested Big Andy, with a guilty air. "We never said nawthin' about keepin' it a secret."

In spite of their disappointment, the millhands laughed. Big Andy was not one to keep a secret in any case, and his weakness for a certain pretty widow who kept the postoffice was common comment. Big Andy responded by blus.h.i.+ng to the roots of his blonde hair.

"Jim!" commanded the Deputy. And the big black dog bounded up to him, his eyes bright with expectation. The Deputy picked him up, and held him aloft with his muzzle to the edges of the hole.

"Smell that," he ordered, and Jim sniffed intently. Then he set him down, and directed him to the piece of bark. That, too, Jim's nose investigated minutely, his feathered tail slowly wagging.

"Seek him," ordered Blackstock.

Jim whined, looked puzzled, and sniffed again at the bark. The information which his subtle nose picked up there was extremely confusing. First, there was the smell of skunk--but that smell of skunk was everywhere, dulling the keenness of his discrimination.

Then, there was a faint, faint reminiscence of Woolly Billy. But there was Woolly Billy, at Tug Blackstock's side. Certainly, there could be no reason for him to seek Woolly Billy. Then there was an elusive, tangled scent, which for some moments defied him. At last, however, he got a clue to it. With a pleased bark--his way of saying "Eureka!"--he whipped about, trotted over to big Andy Stevens, sat down in front of him, and gazed up at him, with tongue hanging and an air of friendly inquiry, as much as to say: "Here I am, Andy. But I don't know what Tug Blackstock wants me to seek you for, seein' as you're right here alongside him."

Big Andy dropped his hand on the dog's head familiarly; then noticing the sudden tense silence of the party, his eyes grew very big and round.

"What're you all starin' at me fer, boys?" he demanded, with a sort of uneasy wonder.