Chapter 9 THE STRANGE MESSAGE JEM LEFT

"Well, we've had a visitor in camp since you fellows all went away!" George confessed.

Of course every one was interested. Lil Artha seemed to immediately jump to the conclusion that the guest must have been a four-footed one.

"Bet you now, it was a measly wildcat," he hastened to exclaim. "It's too bad a fellow with a gun can't be in two places at the same time. I was needed out with the tenderfoot squad; and seems like I could have been made useful here at home. Did the varmint get away with any of our grub, George?"

The camp defender grinned as though amused.

"Go a bit slow, Lil Artha, can't you?" he complained, petulantly. "Don't rush as if you knew it all. Nobody said the visitor was going on four feet, did they? Why, it happened to be a biped, a man!"

"Then it was Jem Shock!" ventured Elmer, quickly, as though he had half guessed the answer before then.

"Just who it was," agreed George, nodding his head in the affirmative, and looking very important.

"What did he want?" demanded Lil Artha.

"Hold your horses!" continued Elmer; "don't keep jumping at conclusions so fast. In the first place, remember that we invited Jem to drop in on us any time he was near our camp. The invitation didn't seem to give him much joy, but later on he may have concluded to make a call. Now tell us what he said, and how he looked, George."

"Oh! he carried that gun of his just as we saw him before," the other explained. "And he certainly looked pretty savage, in the bargain."

"Savage?" echoed Rufus, "why should he act that way? Possibly because my father owns about all this property up here. Perhaps Jem believes he may be dispossessed of his cabin. I've heard that squatters always do get to thinking they own the land they build on, as if possession gave them a quit claim deed."

"Well," continued George, steadily, and keeping his eye fixed on Rufus, "to tell the honest truth, he seemed most of all interested about you, Rufus."

"Oh! is that so?" sneered the other; "well, that's just about in line with what I was telling you. He knows the name of Snodgrass, apparently."

"I guessed he did from the way he acted after I'd told him about your father," George went on to say.

"Now, what could you have to say about my dad?" snapped the touchy Rufus.

"Well, Jem asked me first of all if one of the boys in camp was a Snodgrass, and of course I told him yes," George explained. "Then he asked me if I knew what your father's first name was. I told him I had heard it, but just then, somehow, it seemed to have slipped my memory. At that he up and asked me if it was Hiram."

Rufus gave a little cry at hearing this.

"It might be this man knew my father once on a time, or they may have had some business deal together; though that's hardly likely, because Jem Shock, poacher and farm laborer, would hardly be the one my father would be friendly with."

"I don't know anything about that," said George, swiftly; "but when I told him I remembered, on his mentioning it, that Hiram was your father's name, he gritted those big white teeth of his like everything, and his eyes certainly looked wicked enough to give a fellow a shiver."

"But didn't he say anything to explain why he had come to the camp?" asked Lil Artha, deeply interested in the story.

"He asked no favor, neither would he sit down and have a cup of coffee when I offered to make him one," George went on; "but he asked me to give you a message which he wanted you to carry to your father when you went home. He said: 'Tell that Snodgrass boy to say to his father that Jem Shock never will forgive the rank treachery that handed him over to a gang of sharpers in the land speculating business. And tell Hiram Snodgrass, too,' he went on, 'that he ought to thank his stars his son wasn't treated by Jem Shock as he deserved. Only for the prayers of a good woman in his cabin, and the influence of a sweet child, Jem Shock'd be tempted to do something wicked to wipe out the debt he owed your father.'"

Rufus went white on hearing this. Then the color surged back to his cheeks and his eyes sparkled like twin fires.

"It's all wrong, I'm sure it must be!" he cried, angrily. "I know my father better than most people do, and I'm as certain as I breathe that he wouldn't deliberately betray anybody who trusted in his word. There must be some terrible mistake about it, don't you see, fellows? I'll bring you face to face with my dad when I'm telling him about this, and you'll hear for yourselves what he says. But nothing can shake my confidence in his integrity; I've seen it tested too many times to doubt him now, just because this poacher fellow dares accuse him of wrong doing."

It sounded very fine, this defense on the part of a loyal son, and Elmer could only admire Rufus for showing himself so faithful. At the same time, he knew real-estate dealers often have a peculiar code of morals, and frequently do things that others may not exactly approve of, salving their own consciences in some way. Elmer was a little afraid that Hiram Snodgrass might have been tempted to turn a client over to some combination of operators, some of whom were not just as scrupulous as an honest man would like to have them in his dealings.

"Was that all he said, George?" asked Lil Artha, out of pity for Rufus, who appeared to be suffering acutely from mental pain.

"Yes, and after delivering the message, he whirled around and walked away with the grand air of a lord of the realm," George explained. "Somehow, poacher that he may be, because he believes like a good many persons that wild game isn't the property of the State, there's something about Jem Shock that tells me he isn't a common dickey. He hates all human kind because his nature has been soured by some wrong he's endured, that's all."

"Well, I'm going to find out what it all means, and as soon as I get the chance," Rufus asserted, between his set teeth. "If it was a mistake, it shall be righted. I tell you my father is too big a man to play mean toward anybody. But while we're up here nothing can be done. I wish I had a chance to ask this fellow what it's all about, so I could get the hang of things."

"H'm! if I were you, Rufus," suggested wise George, "I'd go slow about showing myself to Jem Shock. He hates the sound of your name, and if you gave him half an excuse, why he might forget his good resolutions, and hurt you, with the idea of revenging himself on your dad. How about that, Elmer; is my logic sound?"

"Yes, there's no use taking unnecessary risks," admitted the scout-master, "and common prudence demands that Rufus should keep away from Jem. Later on, if he does find that a terrible mistake has been made, it would be easy to come back up here and square things up with the poacher. But it certainly pleases me to know that the home influence is working on Jem's revengeful mind. If the mother is anything like that splendid little clear-eyed chap I don't wonder at it, either."

Secretly, Elmer was more determined than ever to try and make the personal acquaintance of Conrad's mother, the daughter of that once famous Swedish violinist whose bow had thrilled countless thousands, and drawn genuine tears from their eyes.

The subject was by common consent dropped then and there, though, of course, it would remain to agitate the mind of Rufus long afterwards. Indeed, the boy seemed to be unusually quiet during the balance of that afternoon, and even while they sat around the crackling camp-fire after supper had been disposed of.

Elmer could guess the reason why. The tenderfoot had, in the first place, been under a most severe strain when he experienced that peril with the deadly snake. It would have an effect upon his nervous system for some little time; and possibly he might even awaken from sleep occasionally with a half-suppressed cry of horror, as though in his dreams he again saw that horrid reptile with its great coils, its flat square head drawn back for striking, and its tail elevated so that the monotonous danger signal at the tip could continue to buzz angrily.

Then again the boy had taken that accusation on the part of the poacher quite to heart. It could be easily seen that he had a great affection for his father, even though it was his fond mother who had always given in to his whims, and come near utterly spoiling Rufus by her favors.

"It galls him to have heard any one accuse his father of being a trickster," was what Elmer told himself, as he noticed the soberness of Rufus, while the others in the circle about the fire chattered away, and seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely.

He had not changed his own plans a particle on account of hearing about the visit paid to the camp by Jem Shock. If anything, his resolution was stronger than ever to see more of Conrad, and perhaps meet his mother.

All of them were pretty tired, and, of course, as the tenderfoot pair had secured so little sleep on the first night, it was likely they would soon be "dead to the world" after letting their heads fall on their crude pillows. These were made out of a slip filled with sweet hemlock browse stripped by hand fresh from the tree, and fragrant as could be, with the incense of the woods. This bosky odor in itself is said to be conducive to sound slumber; at least all who spend their vacations close to Nature's heart so affirm, and they should know.

The night passed without any sort of alarm. Indeed, Alec and Rufus, once they got to sleep, knew next to nothing up to the time Lil Artha aroused them by beating on his frying-pan gong, as "the first call to breakfast."

They were glad to see that again the weather favored them, since there were all the signs of a pleasant day ahead. Elmer, however, warned the new recruits not to be too optimistic, because after the warmth of the last few days, it was likely that some sort of storm might develop.

It was arranged that George should change places with Lil Artha on this day, and accompany the two surveyors as a guard. The tall scout insisted on his carrying the gun along with him.

"Of course you won't need it to shoot any deer you happen to scare up, George," the owner went on to tell him, "but, as we saw yesterday, there may crop up conditions that make the having of a shooting-iron mighty handy. You may not need a gun at all, but if you do you want it right there."

Lil Artha possibly had something in mind which he wanted to do while left behind. He kept his own counsel, however, and Elmer, knowing that the tall scout was to be thoroughly trusted, did not ask questions.

So along about nine in the morning, when he thought it likely he would be apt to find Conrad seated in his favorite nook and playing some of his dreamy airs, all of them creations of his own brain, Elmer started forth. Lil Artha of course could easily surmise from the direction he took that he meant to look the boy up again, but immersed in his own affairs, he said nothing, only waved a cheery goodbye after the other.

So Elmer strode along, and this time he paid a little less attention to the many interesting things that cropped up on this side or that, for his thoughts were mostly concerned with Conrad, and his quaint thrilling music, which he yearned to hear again.

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