The Outdoor Chums | Page 8

as they covered the miles.
"There's the wagon ahead," he said.
"I had noticed it, and just beyond I thought I saw several fellows up on
the bank, perhaps Andy and his chums. It might be well for us to close
in and be ready to defend the wagon if necessary. And look out for any
sort of sharp-pointed nails on the road, apt to slash our tires," remarked
Jerry, who had experienced so much of the trickery of the Lasher crowd
that he believed there was nothing too mean or small for them to
attempt.
"Not a bad idea, so slow up until the other boys arrive. They may
hardly feel like doing anything, now that we happen along."
"I'd feel sure they wouldn't if we could only coax Bluff to exhibit that
awful pump-gun of his. Talk about your scorchers, I think Andy would
run a mile--I know I would if I thought the murderous thing was going

to be turned on me," growled Jerry, who, as the reader must already
have noticed, was a very persistent fellow, and hard to convince,
especially when on his favorite subject of a fair deal for every living
creature.
They moderated their speed, and passed the place where the hostile
group stood, with two riders on either side of the supply wagon.
Then it was seen that Andy and his associates had impressed a
hungry-looking, gaunt mule into their service, the said animal being
fairly loaded down with an assortment of the most astonishing articles
ever dreamed of in the mind of would-be campers.
Under the circumstances, with Erastus and Toby to help guard the
camp outfit, Andy's crowd did not dare lift a hostile hand; but they took
especial pains to hoot at the little company as it wheeled past, making
more or less sarcastic remarks, and yet being careful not to go too far.
The truth was, they did not wholly like the looks of the big colored man
who sat there with old Toby, and of whose abilities as a fighter they
happened to know something about.
When the rival campers had been left far behind, the boys considered it
safe to part company with the supply train, and dash off.
"We've got lots to do, locating on a good campsite, remember, fellows;
those sort of things don't grow on every bush, I tell you; so, come
along," and Frank, as he spoke, let out another kink, the popping grew
more furious, and away he shot up the road in a little cloud of dust,
with Jerry at his rear, ready to take the lead as soon as there was any
necessity for choosing at the forks.
Ten miles is a mere "flea-bite," as Bluff Masters said, when a good,
lively motor-cycle "takes the bit in its teeth," and it seemed as though
they had hardly more than got well started before the junction was
reached, where Jerry swung ahead, and the rest trailed after him.
The pace had to be more moderate after this, for the going was not so

even; but, nevertheless, they made fair time, and finally swung around
at the head of the lake, where the logging camp was situated.
It was early in the season, but there were some timber cutters at work in
the woods near-by, and a greasy man-cook stood in the doorway of the
long log cabin where the gang put up throughout the winter, while
conducting their operations of leveling the forest, or, at least, robbing it
of all the spruce for the pulp mill over at Bedington.
Jerry held up at the lumber camp, for he wished to ask a few questions
of the cook, who was a man he happened to know in a small way,
though never particularly fancying Jock Stovers.
The fellow stared at seeing a quartette of elegant motor-cycles come
dashing up to the loggers' winter quarters.
"Hello! Jock. We're going into the woods to spend a week or two;
wagon following after with all the stuff. Where do you suppose we
could run across old Jesse Wilcox these days; and is he starting to do
any trapping?" asked Jerry.
The lumber-camp cook grinned a little as he took in the new and
striking hunting apparel which Bluff Masters sported so airily;
doubtless he immediately concluded that the whole party must be a set
of greenhorns, incapable of knowing enough to come in out of the wet
when it rained.
"Oh! yes, he's to work, they tells me. Leastwise I heerd ole Bud Rabig
complainin' thet he never did hev a show wen Jesse he was around,
'cause the annermiles they jest seem ter hanker arter Jesse's traps. Folks
do say he hes a kinder scent he uses ter jest coax 'em like," replied the
cook,