wot, lads – blow him up. I had a handkerchief, ye see, an' into this I dumped 'bout half my powder, an' into the powder I put three matches, with the ends pointing out. Then I tied powder an' matches into a hard lump and watched my chance. There was a flat rock near the roots of the tree, and putty soon Mr. B'ar squatted on this rock. Then I let drive fer the rock, an' the powder an' matches landed good an' hard, I can tell ye."
"And exploded?" put in Joe eagerly.
"Yes, exploded with a noise ye could hear 'most a mile, I calkerlate. The powder flashed straight up into thet ba'r's face, blindin' him and tearing his jaw half off, and the way he ran to save himself was a caution. As soon as he was gone I dropped down and ran for my gun. Then I made after the b'ar and caught him between the rocks and finished him."
This was the last story told that night, and soon after the tale was concluded Leeson showed the boys into the inner room of the cabin, where there was something of a rough bed with a straw mattress.
"Make yerselves ter hum," he said. "It aint no hotel, but it's the best I've got to offer ye."
"But we don't want to turn you out," said Darry.
"I'll make myself comfortable near the door," answered Leeson. "I want to sleep with one eye open – in case those rascals should take a notion to come this way."
The boys were glad enough to rest indoors again and take off the clothing they had worn during the storm.
"Camping out is well enough," declared Joe; "but I don't want too much of it."
"Oh, we've seen the worst side of it," returned Darry. "I expect lots of good times when we get to the fort."
"Oh, so do I, for the matter of that."
After turning in it did not take long for the cousins to get to sleep, and a little while later Hank Leeson also threw himself down to rest. But the old trapper remained close to the doorstep, and slept with his rifle near at hand.
An hour went by, and the darkness and silence continued. There was no moon, and only a few stars were visible. At a distance a few night birds were calling, and occasionally the howl of some lonely wolf could be heard, but that was all.
At last from out of the darkness of the trail came three men on foot. They were Matt Gilroy and his companions. They had tethered their horses in the bushes some distance away. They stole toward the cabin like so many grim and silent shadows.
CHAPTER VIII
THE STEALING OF THE HORSES
"Go slow, men," came softly from Gilroy. "You know what kind of a man Leeson is."
"Reckon I do know," came in a growl from Fetter. "And I've got an account to settle with him, too."
"I'm pretty certain the boy is here," went on the leader. "But we must make sure if the others are here too, or if they have ridden off to the fort. If they have gone to the fort – "
"Hist!" came in warning from Potts. "You're talking too much. I've heard that this Leeson sleeps with his ears wide open."
"He does," grumbled Fetter; and then the three desperadoes relapsed into silence.
They were advancing upon the cabin from the rear, and each held a ready pistol in his hand, while his rifle was slung over his back. They had seen the boys and Benson head for the trapper's home while it was still light and they were on a high cliff; but darkness had closed in on the scene, and they had come up to the spot in ignorance of what had followed.
Tiptoeing their way they reached the lean-to where the horses had been stabled, and with caution Gilroy went inside. By feeling the animals he soon learned that three had been in use but a few hours before, while the fourth was cool and comfortable.
"Their horses are here," he announced. "And a fourth is here, too."
"That's Leeson's," answered Fetter. "But I thought he had two or three."
"Might as well take them while we have the chance," murmured Potts. "Four nags will bring some money over at Highwater. We can get Gingo to sell 'em."
"Let them out," answered Gilroy. "Without horses they'll have their hands full trying to follow us."
It was no easy task to untie the horses in a place that was pitch-dark, and it took some time to get even the horses belonging to our friends released.
As Fetter and Potts took the animals out, Gilroy worked to untie the sturdy mare belonging to Hank Leeson. This was a pet animal, and not used to strangers. As Gilroy caught hold of the halter she gave a neigh of suspicion.
"Hush!" murmured the desperado, and ran his hand down the mare's nose. But this made her skittish, and she stamped sharply half a dozen times.
"What's up thar?" came in Hank Leeson's voice, and the trapper was wide awake on the instant. "Whoa, Nancy, whoa!"
"Hang the luck!" muttered Gilroy, and ran outside after Fetter and Potts. "He must have been on the watch."
"We must get out!" responded Fetter. "He's a sure-shot, remember. Nothing but the darkness can save us."
"I'm going!" came from Potts, and he leaped on the back of one of the horses – that which Joe had been riding.
"I'm with you," said Fetter, and mounted old Benson's steed. "Come, Matt, and be quick about it."
By this time Hank Leeson was running around the corner of the cabin, gun in hand. His call had aroused Joe and Darry, and they were pulling on their clothing with all speed.
"Something is wrong!" exclaimed Joe.
"It must be those desperadoes," responded his cousin.
The boys were not yet dressed, when they heard a clatter of hoofs and a shot, followed by another.
Then they came out, rifles in hand, to find Leeson reloading near the stable.
"Those desperadoes have been here!" exclaimed the old trapper. "They ran off with your hosses, consarn 'em!"
"Went off with the horses?" repeated Darry. "Did you shoot at them?"
"I did, but the light's against me, and I don't reckon as how I hit anything." Hank Leeson meditated for a moment. "I've half a mind ter do it – yes, I have!" he muttered.
"Do what?" asked Joe.
"Go after 'em on my mare. Would you be afraid to stay here alone if I went?"
"No; go ahead!" cried both boys.
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