rick," cried Jerry.

He rose to his feet in great excitement.

Sparwick neither denied nor affirmed the assertion. He drew hard at his
pipe, and looked contemplatively across the meadow for nearly a minute
of silence. Then an eager look flashed suddenly upon his face, and he
held up one hand.

"Listen!" he whispered, hoarsely. "Thar's someone comin' through the
woods."

The boys pricked up their ears and looked anxiously around. Yes,
Sparwick was right. Behind the camp, and to the north of the spruce
thicket, two sounds rose clearly on the crisp air, the slight patter of
snowshoes and the rustling and snapping of bushes. The unknown traveler
seemed to be heading directly toward the camp.

"It ain't a crowd of three," whispered Sparwick. "There's only one, from
the sound. He don't know we're here, I reckon."

"Mebbe it's Brick," replied Jerry. "He might have escaped."

"Mebbe it ain't," observed Sparwick. "Nothin' like bein' on the safe
side. Drop behind that log, you fellers, an' have your weapons ready."

The boys quickly obeyed. Sparwick threw a handful of snow on the dying
embers of the fire. Then he snatched a rifle, and threw himself down
beside his companions.

From this safe cover they commanded a view of the edge of the spruce
thicket in both directions. The brisk tread of snowshoes and the
threshing of bushes came nearer and nearer. Now the thicket was seen to
quiver a few feet to the left of the camp. An instant later, to the
amazement of the hidden watchers, Silas Raikes stepped into view.

The man carried a rifle in one of his mittened hands. He paused on the
edge of the meadow, and looked around. A gleam of surprise and fear
flashed into his eyes as he noted the sleds, the lean-to, the charred
embers of the fire. But it was too late to retreat. Sparwick's tall
figure rose before him, and a rifle-barrel sloped into his face.

"Drop that weapon, Raikes. Drop it, or I'll put daylight through you."

The command rang sharp and clear.

Raikes made a step forward, still retaining his rifle.

"That you, Kyle Sparwick?" he exclaimed, in a tone of genuine surprise.
"This is a nice way to greet an old friend. What's got over you? Don't
you know me any more?"

"Yes, I know you, Raikes, Bostick, Madden, Gerber, and whatever other
names you have," growled Sparwick. "Sorry I can't be more polite, but
this here is a business matter. Drop that weapon, I say. You ain't
travlin' any farther jest now."

At