ever git Ole Dad Martin tuh say as he never wud kill game outen
season agin, they'd know nawthin' under the sun'd tempt him tuh do hit,
not even if he was a dyin' fuh a bite o' meat. He ain't all bad, this
here Cale Martin."

"But what about you, Jim; seems to me this is taking big chances in your
coming up here, when such a lawless character has a grudge against you,
and is waiting to put his stamp on you that way. And strikes me, Jim,
that you must have had a motive in coming, that was more than just
bluff. How about that?"

The young guide glanced at Thad when he said this, and evidently
realized that the patrol leader could read his mind better than most
people; he looked a little confused; then gave a short nervous laugh,
and said:

"Wall, naow, sense yuh sized me up thet away, I'll jest hev tuh admit
thet I did hev a notion in comin' up here, 'sides takin' ye through the
Eagle Lakes. I hed my orders tuh come, an' from one as I hes tuh mind."

He turned away while speaking, as though not inclined to say more just
then in the presence of so many; but Thad made up his mind there was a
story back of the strange actions of Jim; and that a few point-blank
questions might bring it out. Before he slept he hoped he would find a
chance to get Jim to one side and ask him about it; for he had reason to
believe the other was ready to confide in him.

"Do you think he'll come back again to-night?" asked Davy Jones.

"Who cares?" remarked a voice at the elbow of the speaker; and turning,
they beheld Bumpus flourishing his new double-barrel gun, as though only
too anxious for a chance to hold somebody up at its muzzle.

"Here, you keep that cannon aimed the other way, if you please!" cried
Giraffe, dodging behind a convenient tree. "You ought to be marked with
a red flag 'dangerous--dynamite!' that's what I think!"

"Come, let's get back to camp," remarked Thad. "There's little chance of
Old Cale coming back here to-night. He got the scare of his life when
that flashlight burst on him so sudden like. I wouldn't be surprised if
he thought a rapid-fire machine gun was opening on him; or else that
lightning had taken to camping on his trail."

"Anyhow," remarked Allan, "he just couldn't help turning and running as
if the Old Nick were after him. And from that we can guess that Cale
never heard tell of flashlight pictures."

"Well, can you blame him?" asked Thad. "Makes me think of the old fable,
when the lion and the donk