Ten minutes later, the three boys drew away from Fontaine and Le Sueur, striking off at right angle with the dim trail to Grassy Point Lake, and continued their hurried course straight in the direction of the lonely cabin. As they proceeded on their way, excitement, caused by the thought of their coming adventure, grew upon them. They were shaky and nervous when they finally drew up in front of a thick screen of underbrush, less than sixty yards from the house. Dick motioned to Toma.
“Hurry around toward the front of the cabin,” he whispered tersely, “and give your bird-call.”
“Sure you all ready?” inquired the young Indian.
Without further word, Toma slunk forward, skirted the line of underbrush and presently disappeared from view.
Dick and Sandy waited breathlessly. Thus far, no sound had come to them. The forest was pervaded by a silence so deep and oppressive that the two boys, waiting for Toma’s mysterious call, could hear the thumping of their own hearts. They had crept forward through the dense thicket to a point where, though still concealed themselves, they could see the cabin plainly. In the sombre northern twilight its every detail stood clearly revealed—the low, grass-grown sod roof, the tiny window and the crude, rough door.
The boys found it difficult to restrain their gathering impatience. What was Toma doing? Chafing over the delay, they crouched low, their gaze sweeping the tiny clearing ahead. On Dick’s forehead beads of perspiration gathered slowly, while the palms of his hands were moist and warm.
“Can’t imagine what’s happened to him,” Sandy croaked in Dick’s ear. “What’s he waiting for? What’s got into him, anyway? First thing we know, Frischette’ll be here—and it’ll be too late.”
Dick did not reply. Just then he thought he had heard a slight sound in the brush, directly in front of the house. Excitedly, he reached forward and seized Sandy’s right arm.
“Ssh!” he whispered. “Keep still. Just look over there.”
Following his friend’s instructions, Sandy looked and immediately his mouth gaped open, and he emitted a startled gasp.
Two men plunged out into the open—rough, desperate, evil-looking men, who made their way stealthily forward. Each carried a knife and revolver at his belt. One was tall and sinewy, the other short and thin. The tall man proceeded ahead with long awkward strides, while the little man at his side pranced along, like a small boy attempting to keep pace with his elder.