way the smugglin'
fellers do it."
The plan must have looked good to the fellow still in the darkness; Gus
did not know to whom he was talking, but he heard the man walk away
rapidly. He waited, as though on pins, and in a moment three figures
loomed before him, one voice questioning him again. The boy tactfully
repeated his suggestions--then turned back with them as they started
forward, evidently agreeing.
One fellow, Gus could see, was rubbing his eyes. All carried guns.
Two men kept to the path that led toward the beach edge of the woods.
Another and Gus went straight on. Presently Gus suggested that they stop
and rest awhile; then move on farther up, stop, scatter a little, and
listen. He would sneak out into the open, he said, and look around.
There was no danger of his being seen. It would be best to remain thus
for an hour or more--perhaps till morning, mosquitoes or no mosquitoes.
A grunt signified agreement.
The boy crept out toward the dunes and on, until he felt sure he could
not be heard. Then, with the smooth, hard sand for a track he ran,
softly on tiptoe, until once again he came below the tall pine. A low
hiss thrice repeated was answered, and he found Bill in the same spot.
"They're all stuck along in the woods yonder," Gus whispered. "If you
hear them moving off toward the cabin again, shoot. If they go on, shoot
twice. If they come your way, lie low. Here goes for Tony, old scout!"
Gus had some difficulty getting to the cabin from the south side. He
missed it once, got too far into the woods, turned, regained the dunes,
struck in again and this time started to pass within a few yards of it,
but by merest chance saw the gable end against the sky.
CHAPTER XXVI
A CALL FOR HELP
Again Gus approached the cabin, feeling sure now of the outcome of the
plan. He reached the clump of thick pines below the tall one and turned
to make the bee-line in, not a hundred yards from the building, when the
alarm notes of a ruffed grouse reached his ears. It was just ahead, the
angry, quick, threatening call of a mother bird, disturbed with her
young, quick to fight and to warn them of danger. Might not this be a
weasel, fox or mink that had sneaked upon her? But if so, it would be
the note of warning only, to scatter the little ones into hiding-places
while the hen sought a safe shelter just out of the reach of the
marauder and after she
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