With Trapper Jim in the North Woods Part 21

THE PURSUIT.

"Stolen!" burst out impulsive Steve, his face pale with rage.

Both boys felt keenly for their friend, Trapper Jim. He had looked forward so long to capturing his rare prize; he had taken such great pains to set his traps with that object in view; and now, after success had come, and the black beauty was caught, it must be terribly aggravating to discover that some one had happened on the spot, robbed the trap, and was far away with the precious pelt.

Trapper Jim did not often give way to his feelings. He quickly got a fresh grip on his emotions and could talk calmly again. But there was a gleam in those piercing eyes of his, undimmed by age, that made Owen glad he did not stand in the shoes of the pelt thief.

"When do you think he was here, Uncle Jim?" Max asked, as he examined the plain track of the thief's shoe.

"This morning, and not more than an hour ago," came the answer. "He was heading as straight as could be for our cabin, like he meant to drop in on me; but after this he turned back. The temptation was too much. Few men could let a chance pa.s.s by to pick up a silver fox when a common red wouldn't bother 'em the least bit."

"But, say, I hope you don't mean to let him get away with the skin altogether, Uncle Jim," flashed Steve, with an angry look still on his face.

"Well, that wouldn't be like me," returned the trapper, quietly; and Max realized that his was the determined, bulldog nature that never lets go, while with Steve it was a flash-in-the-pan, hasty action, without a careful laying out of plans.

"Then we'll pick up the trail and follow it?" asked the eager boy.

"As soon as we can have Ajax here, son."

"But why wait for the dog?" complained Steve. "It'll take all of an hour to get back here again."

"That and more," replied Trapper Jim.

"And that time will be wasted," Steve went on.

"Listen," remarked the trapper. "Long ago I learned that things like this are done best when you go about them soberly. Once I start on this trail of the pelt thief, and I mean to keep on it if it takes me a hundred miles! What does an hour count for in that case, Steve?"

"Mighty little, I guess," admitted the boy.

"There are other reasons for getting the dog," continued the trapper.

"This rascal will expect pursuit. And so every little while he'll do things to cover up his trail. P'r'aps he'll wade along a stream, and come out by way of rocks that would leave no mark. Then, again, he'd run along a log and jump from stone to stone. All these things would delay me. What took ten minutes of _his_ time would consume an hour of mine. It's much easier to set a problem than to solve one."

"Sure thing. I understand now why you want the dog," Steve confessed.

"Ajax has a good scent. His nose is very keen. Here's a rag the thief must have dropped. Once I let the dog smell of this, and he'll follow that trail hour after hour, so long as it don't get too cold."

"Shall I go and get Ajax! I would run all the way," Steve suggested.

"Well, with that lame shoulder of yours, son, you'd have a hard time of it holding a running dog in leash. So we'll have to get Max here to attend to that part of the business. Think you could return without any trouble, my boy?"

"Well," replied the other, with a laugh, "all I'll have to do will be to let Ajax have his head. He'll keep to our trail, all right."

"Just what I expected you to say," remarked the trapper. "And now be off with you. We'll be nosing around here. Leave your gun with me, as you'll need both hands to manage the dog."

"And what message will I carry to the other boys?" asked Max.

"Explain things in a few words, and tell Owen to take charge until we show up again. It may be to-night, and again it might not come about until to-morrow. But they've got a-plenty to eat, and that satisfies boys."

And so Max hastened off. Although not as impetuous by nature as Steve, he knew that every minute gained now would shorten the lead which the audacious pelt thief had upon them. And so Max sprinted more or less whenever he had the chance.

It was not over an hour when he once more made his appearance, with the excited Ajax towing him. And evidently Max had had no easy job of it, trying to hold the eager hound in, for he looked relieved and rubbed his muscles after Trapper Jim took the leash.

The boys were deeply interested in all that followed. They saw the trapper hold the soiled rag upon which the thief had perhaps wiped his hands for the hound to sniff at for a minute or two.

Then Trapper Jim led Ajax to the footprints and made him catch the same particular odor,

When the intelligent hound gave a bay and led the way along the trail of the thief, his nose close to the ground and his tail in perpetual motion, Trapper Jim looked pleased.

"He's got the scent, all right, lads," he observed, "and after this he'll never forget it. There are few hunting dogs that can be taught to follow a human being as well as they do animals; but Ajax is an exception."

"Now we're off!" exclaimed the restless Steve, exultantly.

"Yes, and the rascal will have to hump himself if he hopes to escape us.

I haven't given up all hopes of reclaiming that silver fox pelt yet," and the trapper really seemed in a better humor than he had enjoyed since the first discovery of his great loss.

For quite some time they hurried on. Ajax was straining at his leash most of the while, and seemed capable of picking up the scent even when there was not the faintest trace of marks that Max could discover.

"It was a mighty good thing we thought of the dog," Steve admitted, and then, seeing the trapper looking humorously at him, he gave a short laugh, as lie hastily added: "I mean it was a wise head that concluded to send for Ajax, and not start off half-shot, like some foolish fellows would have done."

"Yes," added Max, "in several places I've lost the trail. And three times now the fellow's run along a fallen tree, jumping off where he saw hard ground or stones. That would have given us trouble and delayed us, but Ajax followed the scent without looking for a trail.

"Here's a creek," interrupted the trapper, "and chances are the thief will use it to try and hoodwink us."

They waded through, regardless of the icy cold, for the water was not up to their knees.

"Don't see any tracks on this side, Uncle Jim," sang out Steve.

"No, and I guessed we wouldn't," replied the other.

"But he crossed over, didn't he!" demanded the boy.

"Chances are he did," answered Trapper Jim, "but before stepping out he went either up or down the creek a ways. First of all we'll try up. If that fails us after we've gone some distance, we'll come back here and try the other way."

But it chanced that his first guess was the right one. They had gone along the bank of the creek less than eighty feet when Ajax uttered a sound and gave evidence of renewed excitement.

"The rascal found the water too cold and came out at the first chance,"

remarked Trapper Jim. "You see, there's a shelf of rock here. No sign left for our eyes, because the warm sun has dried up any wet marks he made. But Ajax has caught the same scent as there was on that rag."

"And we're off again. Hurrah!" cried Steve, delighted to know that the clever tactics of the pelt thief could not prevail against that keen sense of smell possessed by the hound.

After that the fugitive did not seem to think it worth while to make any more efforts to conceal his trail.

"That cold water was too much for him," suggested Steve.

"Or else he expects he's done enough, and that no one, not even Trapper Jim, could follow him," Max had said; "but I rather think he knew a dog would be put on his track. That water business is always the trick used to throw a hound off the scent."

"Quite right, son," remarked the trapper; "but I allow this fellow has got me guessing good and hard, and that's a fact."