“Somebody is running across the ice!” Barry and Mac said in chorus.
“Yes,” Kent agreed. “And they have a flashlight that they are turning on every once in a while. Wonder who they are?”
“I’ll bet they are the ones that yelled,” said Tim.
“Heading for Rake Island,” Barry observed.
“Maybe whoever is putting on all the funny business around the lodge hides away on Rake Island,” Kent suggested. “We ought to search that place one of these days.”
“We will,” Barry promised. He glanced toward the dark hunting lodge. “Which way did those shots come from?”
“I’d say from just behind the lodge,” Tim answered.
“Seemed that way to me,” Kent agreed. “They were mighty close to this cabin of ours.”
“Let’s go over there and see if we can find anything,” Barry suggested.
“I’ll get the lantern,” Mac offered. “You fellows want your hats and gloves?”
They agreed heartily that they did, for the night air was penetrating, and before long the sandy-haired twin was back with the lantern and their warmer clothing. In a short time they set out across the open space toward the lodge, keeping a sharp watch on every side. The flashes no longer came from the lake.
Back of the lodge they flashed the lantern around the ground, looking for footprints, but the snow had been blown around in such a way as to make it impossible for them to find any. They did not waste many minutes in the hunt, as the cold was too keen, but soon gave it up and started back to the cabin.
“Nothing doing,” Barry announced. “And I’m not going to stay out here long. That wind feels like a knife. Me for the fire!”
His companions were of the same mind, and they were approaching the cabin when Tim stopped and fumbled into the snow. When he straightened up he held an object in his hand, and as soon as he had wiped it off he whistled.
“Hey! Look here, fellows. A rifle shell!”
The boys bent over his extended hand and examined the metal cartridge with interest. Then Kent began to brush through the snow in search of others. Before long he had found three more.
“This is where the fellow stood that fired those shots,” he announced.
“Pretty close to our cabin,” Barry said.
“These shells came out of a big rifle,” Mac observed. “Did you see that shell on the ground, Tim?”
“No, my foot struck it. I felt something harder than the snow, and I reached down to see what it was. As soon as I touched it, I had an idea what it was.”
Barry looked away in the direction of Rake Island, shrouded in the darkness. “It all means that somebody stood here and fired at least four shots from a rifle at someone else,” he said slowly. “The ones who were shot at scuttled away across the ice. I’d like to know what it all means.”
“Let’s get in around the fire and look these shells over,” Kent urged, and they were soon back in the cabin, grouping around the warm fire and looking at the empty cartridge curiously. The ones that Kent had found were exactly the same, and there was no doubt that they had all been shot from the same gun.
“It seemed to me that there were more than four shots, but perhaps I just imagined that,” Barry said, sitting down on the sleeping bag.
“The whole thing was so sudden and unexpected that I hardly know what did happen,” Mac admitted. “The shots were near us, too.”
“Almost outside of our window,” Kent nodded. “Gosh, that gives me something to think about, do you know it? The light of our fire would show anyone that we were here, and whoever fired the shots might have been protecting us. See what I mean?”
“Do you mean that those people who ran across the ice may have been looking in at us and were scared off by the shots?” Tim asked.
“Sure! Or maybe the ones who did the shooting were looking in at us and were disturbed. Of course, any way you look at it, it is all pure guesswork, and we know as much about it as we do about the whole mystery business.”
“I’m glad that we are going to move over into the lodge,” declared Barry. “That’s a bigger place, and I’ll feel safer in it.”
“Don’t forget, though, that the lodge is the home stamping ground for the spook,” Mac reminded him.
“I know it is, but we seem to have had a lot of visitors and prowlers around here. I don’t feel quite safe any more. If we did stay in this cabin, we’d have to build some sort of a shutter to put over that window, so that people couldn’t come looking in.”
“Do you believe it was any of Carter Wolf’s friends?” Tim inquired.
Barry smiled. “We’re trying to hang everything against his account, just because he has no use for us. No, I hardly think so. I wonder if any of his bunch carries a rifle big enough for these shells?”
“They might,” Kent said. “Some of his friends are sports and have good equipment. We know that he is somewhere near here, but I just don’t think that they had anything to do with it all.”
“Well, that artillery practice was too close to suit me,” Mac declared, as he began to get ready for bed again.
“I’m just wondering if anyone was hit or if they just yelled because they were scared,” murmured Barry, as the boys prepared to go to sleep again.
“I suppose we should have gone on down to the lake to see if anyone was hurt or not,” admitted Tim.
Mac placed fresh fuel on the fire, and they talked for another half-hour about the mysterious event of the night. The wind was rising and blowing more strongly, and the old cabin shook under the force of some of the blasts. At length the boys became quiet and sank away into deep sleep.
It seemed that they had scarcely closed their eyes when there came a thunderous booming crash that jarred the cabin. Something scraped down the roof and fell to the ground back of the lean-to kitchen. At the same time some stones fell into the fire, which had sunk to red embers, scattering it to right and left. The boys bounded up from their beds with rapidly beating hearts.
“What was that?” Tim shouted.
“Something hit the cabin,” Barry said, as he reached for his clothes again.
“Yes, and it took part of the chimney,” Mac pointed out. “I’ll get a light and we’ll see what it was.”
Kent threw the remaining wood on the fire, and Mac lighted the lantern. It was just five o’clock, an hour which rather surprised the boys, as it was still pitch dark outside. They dressed as quickly as possible, waiting for further sounds, but all was still.
“Do you suppose that somebody bumped against the side of the cabin?” Mac asked.
“Bumped it with a battering ram if he did,” Barry retorted. “That thump was on the roof. Let’s see what it was.”
He seized the lantern, and the others followed him out into the early-morning air. The blackness was growing faintly gray in the east, and before very long the sun would be up. But the boys were not interested in these things at that moment. They walked out to a place where they could look at the roof of the cabin.
One glance told the story. A big limb had blown down and landed on the roof, knocking off a corner of the chimney. Part of the limb had slid down the back part of the roof, but the heaviest portion was still balanced on the peak of the roof.
“A tree limb!” Kent cried. “We might have known it.”
“A big one, too,” Barry observed. “We’ll have to pull it down before we leave this cabin.”
“I thought the whole house was coming down when it hit,” Mac grinned.
“Are you going to go back to sleep?” Tim inquired.
“Sleep?” echoed Kent, in disgust. “Not for me! It’s morning, anyway. If we did go to sleep, something else would be sure to happen. I’m sleepy, but no more for me. What a fine night that turned out to be!”
Satisfied by their inspection, the boys now went back into the cabin and began to fix things in order. All of them felt sleepy and somewhat dragged out, but in no mood to return to the sleeping bags. Faint streaks of real daylight were spread across the sky, and a new day was at hand.
It was still snowing lightly, and the wind was cutting and sharp. Before long it was evident that there would be no sunshine that day. The sky was heavy and overcast. The trees were loaded with a mass of clinging white flakes, and the whole landscape was clothed in a simple beauty that the boys admired with enthusiasm.
“If the sun would come out, how this snow would flash and sparkle!” Kent remarked, as they tucked away the bedding and prepared to get breakfast.
“No sun today,” Barry predicted. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if we have more snow.”
“Going to move over into that lodge this morning?” Mac inquired.
“I guess so,” Barry nodded. “But first we want to go down to the lake and see if we can find any clues to what went on last night.”
“We ought to scout around a little and see if we can find anyone in the woods who did the shooting,” Tim suggested.
“We’ll do the best we can,” Barry assured them. “I want to get to the post office at Fox Point and mail my letter to Dad. We won’t be here much longer.”
“No, we won’t, worse luck,” sighed Kent. “I’d like to stay right here until we do solve the mystery.”
“Looks like we aren’t going to,” Mac shook his head. “It gets deeper all the time.”
“Somebody has got to get more wood,” Tim called from the lean-to. “Who are the brave lads who will volunteer to chop or die for their native land?”
“I’m brave, but this isn’t my native land,” Barry grinned.
“You’d better do it, Tim,” Mac suggested. “You’re always carrying a little hatchet around in your belt.”
“That’s no hatchet, that happens to be an ax,” growled Tim. “I’m all set to cook breakfast, and as it is going to be a tough job to cut wood under the snow, I’m calling for volunteers!”
“He’s honest about it,” commented Barry. “It is hard work, so he wants somebody else to do it.”
“I’ll do the chopping,” Kent said suddenly. “Come on, Mac, you go with me.”
Mac stared at him suspiciously. “You seem mighty anxious. Where are you going to find a log to cut into?”
“Upon the roof, my boy,” grinned Kent. “All we have to do is to toss a rope up and snake it down. Once it descends to the ground, we will fall on it tooth and nail and reduce it to kindling wood!”
Mac seized his ax with alacrity. “And that means that the next time wood is cut, those two have to cut it wherever they can find it, doesn’t it? That’s fine! Let’s go!”
“We’re sold,” Barry smiled at Tim. “The boys have put one over on us.”
Mac and Kent went to work at once on the limb that hung over the peak of the roof. Standing on Kent’s shoulders, the twin looped a rope over a jagged stump of a limb and then jumped to the ground. Both of them pulled on the rope and the limb came sliding down the roof and thudded to the ground.
“A good, dry piece of timber,” Kent exulted. “This will be easy to chop up for firewood.”
They fell to their task with a will and soon had an ever-growing pile heaped up close to the front door. Barry came out to get some of it, and Tim started the fire in the rusty stove. Before long the delicious smell of bacon drifted out to the wood-choppers. Mac stopped and sniffed with rapture.
“Boy, just smell that bacon! Isn’t that the finest aroma in the world?”
“It certainly is when you are out camping,” Kent granted. “Everything seems to taste so good when you are out in the open a whole lot.”
“Bacon, eggs, and coffee! What a combination! Say, while you fellows are at Fox Point today, why don’t you get some sausage?”
“We’ll ask Barry, or whoever goes, to get it.”
Breakfast was soon ready, and they tackled it with enthusiasm. Just as soon as the meal was over they set the cabin in order. All of them were anxious to get out and explore the lake front, but they were good campers and had an instinctive aversion to leaving the camp until it was in first-class condition. This was speedily done, and then they donned their outside coats and their hats and were ready to go.
“Taking guns?” Kent asked.
“Might as well,” Barry said. “Not that we expect to use them for defensive purposes, but we might see some game that we can knock over.”
They left the cabin and locked the door after them. “Nothing in there of value except our provisions, skates, and sled,” Mac remarked. “But I suppose it is best to lock up.”
“We’ll explore a little and then get back to our moving,” Barry proposed, as they plodded along through the snow down the slope to the lake. “We don’t want to spend another night in the Bronson cabin.”
They soon reached the shore of the lake and searched it for footprints or other clues, but were unable to find anything. Proceeding along the edge of the frozen water, they hiked almost as far east as the mouth of the Buffalo River. When they were opposite Rake Island, Kent came to an abrupt halt and pointed.
“Look, some fellows are on Rake Island. See them watching us?”
Glancing across the ice sheet, they saw five figures standing in a group, apparently looking in their direction. Just as they noticed them, the group on the little island started across the lake toward them. The boys at once halted.
“They are coming right at us,” Barry remarked.
“Doesn’t it look like Carter Wolf in the lead?” Tim asked.
Kent nodded. “Just what I thought. We’re in for trouble.”
“Five to four,” murmured Mac.
“Hold your horses,” Barry advised. “We don’t know what they want, and besides that we have guns and they haven’t anything in their hands. Don’t let them get near enough to take anything away from you. Maybe they only want to buy something.”
“I can’t very well picture Carter Wolf wanting to buy anything from us,” Kent shook his head.
The members of the island camp soon drew close to them, and there was no doubt that it was Carter Wolf and some of his friends from a neighboring town. These boys were expensively dressed, and Wolf wore a big fur coat and hat that looked odd as a camping outfit. They carried no weapons with them, and it was impossible to imagine what their object was.
They approached the mystery hunters, and the silence between the two groups was strained. Barry decided to make the advances.
“Good-morning,” he greeted.
The other boys made no answer, but they slowed up and finally stopped a few feet away. Wolf’s face wore a frown, and his companions stood slightly in back of him. They were all boys who did not look especially healthy, and the boys from the cabin knew that they were all drinkers and considered themselves to be good sports.
“You tried pretty hard to hit us last night, didn’t you?” Wolf began aggressively.
“We didn’t have anything to do with whatever happened last night,” Barry answered him. “You’ll have to tell us all about it.”
“We believe that,” sneered Wolf. “Just because you saw us sitting on the porch of that lodge, you blazed away at us. I can have you arrested for that.”
Kent looked at him coldly. “The fact of the matter, Wolf, is that we were asleep in the Bronson cabin at the time that shooting happened. We got dressed and came out as soon as we could, and you and your friends were running across the ice. We didn’t have a thing to do with it.”
“I suppose I’m to believe it or not,” scoffed the boy from the island.
Tim dug down into his Mackinaw pocket. “I guess we can soon settle that question,” he said. “Here are the empty shells that we picked up outside our cabin after the shooting. You can see that they are far too big for our little rifles, and you know that it wasn’t a shotgun that was fired at you. Need any further proof?”
It was evident that the boys from Rake Island did not, but they were in anything but a pleasant frame of mind. They were anxious to make trouble but had no ground to stand on. Wolf tried a new line of attack.
“Your father has charge of that lodge,” he accused Barry. “If anything had happened to us, he would have been responsible. We had been up the lake to a dance hall and came back late. All we did was to sit down on the porch of the lodge because Hodge here was unsteady——”
“Don’t be telling all you know,” spoke up a boy with a pasty, unhealthy-looking face.
“Well, anyway, somebody shot at us,” Wolf went on. “If we had been hit, your father would have had to pay for it.”
“I don’t think so,” Barry denied. “I guess you know that the lodge has the name of being haunted, and you were taking your own chances when you sat on the porch.”
“Some fine day our bunch will go up there and crash in,” Wolf boasted. “We’ll see what all this ghost business is.”
“If you can find out what it is, my father will be grateful to you,” Barry assured him. “But I wouldn’t crash into the lodge, if I were in your place.”
“Don’t give me advice, Garrison! I don’t need any, and if I did, I wouldn’t come to you for it. You know that if I ever get a chance to square accounts with you, I’m going to!”
“You haven’t any account to square,” Barry returned levelly. “You just think you have. We’re not looking for any trouble with you, Wolf, and the farther you stay away from us, the better we’ll like it!”
“I think we ought to give you fellows a good beating,” cried Wolf, starting forward. But a companion named Carl Voss pulled him back quickly.
“Come on back to camp and leave these kids alone,” he advised, his eyes upon the weapons hanging across the boys’ arms. “They didn’t shoot at us.”
Wolf allowed himself to be dragged away, but his eyes were sullen and revengeful. “Some day it will be my turn to crow,” was his parting word.
“Looks like you’re doing all the crowing right now,” murmured Tim, as they watched the other party start back to the island.
For a few moments the boys from the cabin camp watched the Rake Island boys walk across the ice, and then Barry turned away. “Come on,” he said. “We haven’t time to stand around idle. Remember that we want to move today, and already we have spent a good part of the morning.”
The other followed him, and they started back to the camp. “We’ve learned something, anyway,” Kent remarked.
“Yes, it was the Wolf bunch that was shot at,” Mac nodded.
“Still, we’re just as much as ever in the dark as to who did the shooting,” Tim reminded them.
“It looks to me as though whoever did the shooting did it to scare them off,” said Barry. “They weren’t hit and didn’t say anything about the shots going overhead. I guess that crowd didn’t have anything to do with taking our sled.”
“For a while I thought that they did,” confessed Kent. “But evidently they didn’t know anything about it. Somebody keeps mighty close tabs on the lodge and even objects when anybody sits on the front porch.”
“What will they do when we go to live in the place?” Barry asked.
“They may make it warm for us,” Tim suggested. “So far we have been living in the Bronson cabin, and they haven’t done any more than steal our sled and throw it into a ravine. But now we are moving up on the ghost, and maybe things will get lively.”
“Scared?” Mac asked.
“No, but I believe we ought to be prepared for action.”
“We will be,” Barry agreed. “Perhaps we ought to take turns staying up at night and keeping a strict watch. I have an idea that some dangerous criminal is operating around that lodge.”
“I wonder if there are any counterfeiters making money anywhere in the neighborhood,” Mac mused.
“It may be,” Barry admitted. “Whatever they are, someone doesn’t want anybody to hang around the lodge. We’ll just have to show them that we intend to stay there.”
“That’s the talk!” Kent approved.
Still discussing the things nearest their minds, the boys arrived at the cabin close to dinner time. After some thought they decided to postpone their moving until the afternoon.
“Tim and I can move the things over, if you and Kent want to go to Fox Point,” Mac told Barry.
“I ought to go mail my letter,” Barry said. “And we need some things from the store there, kerosene in particular. Our lantern is about empty, and we’ll want some oil for the lamps in the lodge.”
“Not to forget Mac’s sausage,” smiled Kent.
“It won’t take us any time to move our few things over there,” Tim said. “You boys go ahead, and we’ll manage the domestic affairs.”
This was agreed to, and after the midday meal Kent and Barry prepared to start out. They took the sled with them, but decided not to skate.
“That would be a couple of miles up the lake and then down the river,” Kent argued. “We can cut our distance by going through the woods.”
“The ice is almost covered with snow anyway,” observed Barry. “We can hike it as quickly as we could skate.”
Strapping the long kerosene oil container to the sled, they were ready to start out. The twins watched them from the door.
“If you come to a good hill, you can sit on the sled and coast down,” Mac grinned.
“That will be all right if you don’t run up against a stump,” Tim added.
Barry slipped the sled rope through his belt and they were off. “See you in our new quarters before long,” he called back.
“Have a warm fire by the time we get there,” Kent requested.
“Don’t forget coffee and butter!” Tim yelled.
“And sausage!” Mac whooped.
With a laugh and a reassuring wave the two boys with the sled entered the woods and were lost to sight.
Barry and Kent struck off in a southeasterly direction through the woods. They knew that Fox Point lay in that direction and were interested to see how near they would come to it. There was no definite path to follow, and so they wound around bluffs and between the trees, checking their course by a pocket compass. The forest was a fairly open one, and the trees stood well apart, making it easy to draw the sled. Underfoot the snow made a soft carpet.
The entire day had been a gloomy one, and the sky was gray and heavy, with a strong hint of snow in it. Darkness would come quickly, and the two boys were aware of the fact and determined to lose no time in making the trip.
“If we push on at a fast pace, we should be back at the lodge before it gets dark,” Kent said, as they crossed a brook and started up a hill slope.
“We won’t linger in the store,” Barry promised. “It will be dark earlier than usual tonight, and we’ll have to make a flying trip of it. I suppose we should have started out this morning.”
“I guess so, if we had wanted to take our time about it. Oh, well, I’m sure that we’ll make it all right. Beginning to snow, isn’t it?”
Kent was right. Lazy flakes of snow began to drift down through the trees, and when they reached the top of the hill they could see for some distance. In every direction the air was filled with softly falling flakes.
“If it doesn’t come down any harder than that, it won’t bother us any,” Kent remarked.
“Hard to tell about that,” his companion said. “Some pretty hard storms start out mildly. Those clouds above look to be full. However, we won’t borrow trouble until we have to.”
They crossed a somewhat thicker section of timber and came to the top of another rise of ground. Barry pointed ahead of them.
“See that church steeple? I believe that is Fox Point.”
“If it is, we’ve hit it pretty well. It won’t be long before we know for certain.”
They set off once more and before long came to the edge of the woods and saw the little crossroads village of Fox Point before them. A few houses, a general store, and a church and school building made up the tiny country village. The boys went at once to the store and, leaving the sled outside, were soon warming their hands at the big iron stove in the center of the store.
Then Barry began to order supplies, and Kent wandered to the window, looking down into the road. Presently he called to his companion.
“I wonder if that is the French couple that Mac and Tim saw?”
Barry joined him at the window and looked down. Two horses were tied to a railing at a water trough which was empty, and as the boys looked out at the scene, a man and woman got on the horses. Barry recognized the man at once.
“Yes, that is the fellow who came into our camp that morning,” he said.
Filled with curiosity, the storekeeper came over and joined them at the window. The boys watched the French couple ride off and enter a path that led into the woods below the town.
“Those people been around these parts a few days,” the owner of the store confided. “You acquainted with them?”
“No, but early one morning the man was standing looking over our camp,” Barry told him. “Two of our friends visited them in their camp once, but we don’t know anything about them. Do you?”
The storekeeper went around the counter and began to tie up packages. “I know they are mighty mysterious people. Won’t say who they are or what they want. The other night they come in the store and I asked them what I could do for them. Said they didn’t want nothin’ but to wait for somebody. Pretty soon a car come along and blowed the horn outside and they went out to it, and that was the last I see of them until today. Nobody knows anything about ’em.”
“They didn’t have any rifles today,” Barry said to Kent, when the storekeeper had moved off.
“I noticed that. They must have settled somewhere to stay.” Kent chuckled. “I’ll bet it hurts these people not to know what they are doing here.”
The packages were soon ready, and the boys took them out and tied them in place. Over the top they spread the canvas to keep the snow out, and then they were ready. Barry looked around and then shook his head.
“It is beginning to snow harder and faster,” he said. “We’ll have to step right along.”
Leaving Fox Point behind them, the two boys started off through the woods toward Bluff Lodge, striding along as fast as they could. The snow was coming down hard, and before they had gone two miles it was blinding. The two chums said very little, but both of them were apprehensive as the sky grew darker and the whirling flakes more bewildering. Their clothing became white.
“We got into a good one this time,” Barry called to Kent, as they rounded a high rocky ledge.
“You’re right! Say, did we pass that ledge on the way to Fox Point?”
“I think so. Hang it all, I can hardly see anything.”
They pressed on, picturing the twins in the lodge with a warm and glowing fire to welcome them. The loaded sled was a trifle heavy owing to the opposition of the increasing depth of snow, and they relieved each other frequently.
They had traveled on for over a half-hour, peering through the storm and almost feeling their way, when Kent stopped and pointed.
“Look! There is that same ledge. We’ve come around in a complete circle!”
Barry nodded bitterly. “We have. I hate to admit it, but we’re just lost! And if you ask me, we’ve managed to get lost at a mighty serious time!”
The twins watched the departure of their chums and then turned back into the house. Mac closed the door and walked over to the fire, rubbing his hands.
“It doesn’t do to get far away from the fire these days,” he grinned.
“Not for long,” his brother admitted. “We had better get over to the lodge and start a fire there. That place is going to be cold.”
“Yes, and it will take some time to warm it up, too. Did Barry leave the key?”
Tim took it from his pocket. “Here it is. Let’s take some of the stuff and go on over there.”
They put on coats and hats and, taking a few things with them, left the Bronson cabin and crossed to the lodge. Tim unlocked the front door of Bluff Lodge, and they went in. The interior of the lodge was cold, and their breath stood out in dense white clouds. Without lingering in the hall they went directly to the big living room and put their equipment on the window seats.
“The first thing we had better do,” Mac suggested, “is to get the fire going. This fireplace looks like a good one, and it shouldn’t take long. Want to put paper in while I go haul a load of wood on the sled?”
“We haven’t got the sled,” Tim reminded him. “Barry and Kent have it, so you’ll have to carry some over.”
“That’s so, I had forgotten. They took the sled to bring home the well-known bacon.”
“Or your sausage,” Tim grinned.
“It won’t be mine alone. You know that you like it yourself and so do the other boys. Well, I’ll be back in a few seconds with some wood.”
“We haven’t got much of it,” Tim said. “We’ll have to cut some more.”
“I know it. That is the biggest job we have.”
Mac left the lodge, and Tim busied himself piling some newspaper which he had brought in the fireplace. There were some ashes left from a previous fire, and he cleaned them out and carried them in a pail to the kitchen, where he unlocked the back door and took the pail out to where the bushes grew in a wild tangle. Here he dumped the ashes and then looked around. The door of the Bronson cabin was open, and he could see Mac inside.
Returning to the lodge, his eyes lighted on a small shed joined to the kitchen. It was one part of the lodge that they had not inspected, and his curiosity was aroused.
“Wonder what that place is. But I suppose it is locked up.”
He tried the knob on the door that led to the small shed and found that it was locked. The key ring for the lodge was still in his pocket, and he took it out, examining the keys closely.
“The key to this shed may be on the ring. Nothing like trying.”
He fitted two keys to the lock on the shed, and the second one fitted. One turn and the lock slipped back. He pulled the door open and peered inside. Then he gave a whistle of surprise and pleasure.
“Coal, by ginger! Half a shed full of coal. I must tell Mac about this.”