The Boy Scouts in Northern Wilds | Page 5

man didn't remove the document and file it in
probate court. It would have saved a lot of bother."
"But he didn't," George suggested, "and that gives us a fine trip to the
Hudson Bay country."
"When was the house of this Frederick Tupper burglarized?" asked
Sandy.
"On the night following the death of the old gentleman."
"Had the villain of the drama, this Howard Sigsbee, any knowledge
concerning the hiding place of the will?"
"He was not believed to have."
"Do they think he went there and got the will himself?"
"Huh!" objected Tommy. "If he'd gone after the will himself, he'd have
taken it out of the Little Brass God and carried it away with him. And
he'd have made a pile of ashes of it in about one minute, at that!"
"Perhaps he couldn't open up the merry little chap," Sandy suggested.
"We don't know whether he understood the secret or not," Will
answered. "All we know is that the Little Brass God was still intact a

week after it had been stolen."
"Then he knew the combination, or he didn't get the will!" argued
George.
"Anyhow!" Tommy laughed, "we've got only about a million or more
miles of country to search over for a little brass god about -----"
"Say, just how big is this Little Brass God?" asked Sandy.
"He's about six inches in height, and three inches across his dirty
shoulders, and he certainly is about the ugliest specimen of a heathen
beast that ever came down the pike."
"What would that French Canadian buy him for?" asked George.
"That's another thing we've got to find out," replied Will.
Tommy was about to ask another question when Will held up a hand
for silence. The leaping flames were sending long streamers of light
into the thicket on either side and over the glistening waters of Moose
river. The circle of illumination extended for some distance on every
side, except at the back of the tents, where the level ground lay in
shadows.
As the boys listened, the soft sound of a moccasined foot came to their
ears. It seemed only a yard away, and yet it was not in sight. George
dashed to the back of the tents, followed by a sharp cry of alarm.

CHAPTER III
THE CABIN IN THE SWAMP
When George reached the rear of the tent he saw a crouching figure
there. A hole had been cut in the cloth, and the fellow was gazing into
the tent. He was dressed in woodsman's attire, leather jacket and
leggins and fur cap. The gold rings in his ears quivered and glistened as

the light of the fire struck them.
As George rounded the tent the spy turned and ran for the forest.
Without a thought as to the ultimate result, George followed along
behind. For some distance the lad kept pace with the mysterious visitor,
but, of course, it was impossible for him to do so for any great length of
time, as the fugitive was well versed in woodcraft, while George was
not.
After a time George lost sight of the fellow entirely, but could still keep
track of him by the noise he made in passing through the thicket. It was
quite evident that the intruder now believed that pursuit, had entirely
ceased, for he made his way more leisurely through the swampy growth,
and seemed to pay no attention whatever to the sounds of his passage.
Using great caution, the boy finally gained the hummock and stood
looking at the dark bulk of a log cabin which stood in the center. He
listened for a long time but all was silent inside. Presently he circled the
place and came to a small opening which was more like a loop-hole
than a window. There was a glass pane here, and through it he saw that
there was a fire on the inside.
By this time the lad was shivering with cold, not having taken the time
to provide himself with heavy clothing before leaving the camp in
pursuit of the spy. As he glanced through the glazed opening he saw a
great fire of logs blazing in a rudely made fireplace at one end of the
room. He moved on until he found a door.
"Perhaps the owner of this log mansion will think I'm pretty prompt in
returning his call," the lad mused as he knocked softly at the door. "But,
all the same, I'm going to give him the pleasure of my company until I
can get warm."
There was no response to the knock, and so George opened the door
and entered. There was no one in front of the fire; no one in any of the
rude chairs. The boy stood looking about the room for