The Adventures of Rover Boys: 26 Illustrated Adventure Novels. Stratemeyer Edward

it, then. Trial No. 1 is a failure. Mr. Barrow, we'll have to try the next stream."

      "So it would seem, Dick. Well, you boys mustn't expect too easy work o' it. A big treasure ain't picked up every day."

      "The trouble of it is, we don't know how much of a treasure it is," said Tom. "For all we know, it may be but a few hundred dollars — not enough to pay us, really, for our trouble."

      "Well, even a few hundred dollars ain't to be sneezed at."

      "We did much better out West, when we located our mining claim," said Dick. "But then we came up here for fun as much as for treasure."

      The tramp to where the next stream leading from Bear Pond was located was by no means easy. They had to crawl around a tangled mass of brushwood and over more rough rocks, until they gained the bosom of the pond itself. Then they skirted the shore for several hundred yards.

      "Hold on!" cried Dick suddenly. "Rabbits!" And up came his gun, and he blazed away. Sam also fired, and between them they brought down four rabbits, which had just run out of a hollow log a short distance ahead.

      "Good shots!" cried the guide enthusiastically. "Couldn't have been better. I see you are used to hunting. Many a city chap would have missed 'em entirely. I had one feller up here year before last wanted to bring down big game, but when he saw a deer he got the shakes and didn't think of shootin' till the game was out o' sight."

      The four rabbits were plump and heavy, and the boys shouldered them with much satisfaction. Then the onward course was resumed, until Dick again called a halt.

      "Here is where we'll make trial No. 2," he said. "Now see if any of you can locate the blasted tree in this neighborhood."

      All began to search around in various directions, and presently Sam let out a call.

      "Here's a fallen tree!"

      "Struck by lightning?" queried Dick.

      "I don't know about that. Perhaps Mr. Barrow can tell us."

      The others walked over, and the guide cleared the snow from the upper end of the fallen timber.

      "Not much signs of being struck by anything but the wind," he announced. "Still, I ain't sure."

      "We'll try from this point, anyway," said Tom. "No use of missing any chance, however small." And on this the others agreed.

      Once again they began to pace off the ground as before. Here the task was as difficult as ever, as they had to pass through some timber thickly intergrown with brush.

      "I suppose in Goupert's time this timber was small," observed the guide.

      The tramping around was beginning to tire them, and soon Sam had to stop to rest and get back his wind.

      "I feel like a regular snow-plow," he gasped. "Tell you what, it takes the wind right out of a chap."

      "You rest while we go ahead," suggested Tom, but Sam did not wish to do this.

      "Not much! If the treasure is going to be found, I want to be on deck!" he cried.

      Presently they were at it again, Dick pacing off the steps as carefully as ever. They had still fifteen paces to go when John Barrow came to a stop with a sniff of disgust.

      "Wrong ag'in!"

      "How so?"

      "This is leadin' us right out on the pond."

      "I declare, so it is!" murmured Dick. "We started due southwest, didn't we?"

      "To a hair, lad. To tell the truth, I didn't take much to this trail from the start. To my mind this stream is a new one. I think the next outlet is one of the old-timers."

      Once more they held a conversation, and Tom asked how far it was to the next stream.

      "Right over yonder rise o' ground," answered the guide. "But hadn't you better wait till after dinner before ye tackle it?"

      Dick consulted his watch.

      "I declare! Quarter to twelve!" he exclaimed. "No wonder I'm feeling hungry."

      "I was getting hungry myself," said Tom. "But I wasn't going to be the first to stop. What shall we do — go back to camp?"

      "Yes," said Dick. "I don't like the idea of leaving Jasper Grinder there all day alone."

      "Nor I," came from the other Rovers.

      John Barrow was asked to lead them back by the shortest route, and they started quarter of an hour later, after all had had a chance to rest and get back their wind.

      "I hope we get a chance at some deer while we are up here," remarked Dick, as they turned back.

      "I'll take you to where there are deer, after this hunt is over," replied John Barrow. "I know a famous spot, and it's not far, either."

      "Hark!" suddenly cried Tom. "What sort of a yelping is that?"

      All listened.

      "Wolves!" answered John Barrow. "There must be quite a pack of 'em, too."

      "I suppose they get pretty hungry when there is such a deep snow," said Tom.

      "They do. More'n likely some of 'em have scented our b'ar meat and they want some."

      "If they are heading for our camp, they'll give Jasper Grinder trouble," put in Sam.

      He had scarcely spoken when they heard the report of a gun, followed by a louder yelping than ever.

      "They've attacked him, true enough!" cried John Barrow.

      "Come on," said Dick. "The sooner we get back the better. Grinder may be having a pile of trouble, and the wolves may tear all our things to pieces if they get the chance."

      CHAPTER XXIX

       JASPER GRINDER AND THE WOLVES

       Table of Contents

      Left to himself, Jasper Grinder piled the wood on the camp-fire and then sat down to meditate on the turn affairs had taken.

      He was in a thoroughly sour frame of mind. To his way of thinking everything had gone wrong, and he wondered how matters would terminate.

      "I was a fool to come out here, in the first place," he told himself. "I ought to have known that Baxter had no sure thing of it. If I hadn't fallen in with the Rovers, I would have frozen and starved to death. And they don't want me; that's plainly to be seen."

      Had he felt able to do so, he would have packed a knapsack with provisions and started on his way down the river toward Timber Run. But he did not know how far the settlement was away, and he was afraid to trust himself alone in such a wilderness as confronted him on every hand. He did not possess much money, but he would have given every dollar to be safe back in the city again.

      He wondered if the Rovers would gain possession of the treasure before the Baxter party came up, and also wondered what would happen should the two parties come together. He had not been treated very well by Dan Baxter, and so he hardly cared who came out on top in the struggle for the treasure.

      "Whoever gets it will try to count me out," was the way he reasoned. "I'm at the bottom of the heap, and likely to stay there for some time to come."

      The time dragged slowly, and to occupy himself he began to cut more wood for the fire. The task made him grit his teeth.

      "Got to work like a common woodchopper," he muttered. "It's a shame!"

      He was just dragging the last of the wood up to the fire when a sudden yelping broke upon his ears. Looking up, he saw a lone wolf standing at the edge of the timber, gazing fixedly at him.

      "A wolf!" he muttered, and his face grew pale. "Scat!" And he waved his hand threateningly.

      The wolf disappeared behind some brush, but did not go far. Sitting