The brass-lined money casket was an odd-looking affair, which Dick found
thrust in a big box of fancy articles of various descriptions. The box
was about a foot long, six inches wide, and six inches deep. It was of
rosewood, with silver corners, and the lining was of polished brass,
curiously engraved. The box had contained a few odd Canadian silver
coins, but that was all.

"Do you know, I would like to know the history of this box," observed
Dick, as he looked it over. "As it belonged to one of those smugglers it
ought to have quite a story to tell."

"It will make a nice jewel casket," put in Tom. "When you settle down
with Dora, you can give if to her for her dia----"

"Oh, stow that, Tom! If Dora ever does take me for a husband, it won't
be for some years to come, you must know that."

"Let me take a look at the box," put in Sam. "I never got the chance to
look it over carefully."

"It's odd that they should engrave it inside," went on Dick. "Especially
since the outside silver corners are plain."

"Perhaps there is a secret spring hidden by the engraving," suggested
Tom. "Hunt around. It may fly apart and let out a hundred thousand in
diamonds."

"Don't be foolish, Tom," said Dick. "It isn't likely there is a spring."

"But there just is a spring!" exclaimed Sam, who was handling the box.
"Hark!"

He ran his finger nail over a spot on one side of the box, and there
followed a tiny click. Then he ran his finger nail back, and there was
another click.

"Hurrah! Sam has solved the mystery of the sphinx!" cried Tom. "Can you
open it? I claim a third share of the diamonds!"

"Give me the box," said Dick, also a bit excited. When he got it in his
hands he, too, ran his finger nail over the engraved brass. Several tiny
clicks followed.

"There must be some opening beneath the brass lining," he said.

"Take it to the window, and perhaps you'll be able to see something
more," suggested Sam.

Dick did as advised, and, with his brothers gathered close beside him,
worked over the money casket for fully quarter of an hour.

"It seems to click, and that's all," he said disappointedly. "If I could
only----Oh!"

Dick stopped short. His finger had run across the lining in a certain
way. There were three clicks in rapid succession, and on the instant one
of the brass plates of the box flew back, revealing a tiny compartment
behind it, not over a quarter of an inch in depth.

"No diamonds there," said Tom, his face falling. "Full of emptiness."

"No, here is a sheet of parchment," returned Dick, pulling it forth. "A
map!" he added, as he unfolded it. "Well, I never!"

"Never what?" came from Tom and Sam.

"Unless I am mistaken, this is like the map that was on that table in
the cave, only this is much smaller."

"That's interesting, too," said Tom.

"The back of the map is full of writing," said Sam. He looked closer.
"It's in French."

"This box must have belonged to one of those French-Canadian smugglers,"
said Dick. "We'll have to get Uncle Randolph to read the writing and
tell us what it says."

The three boys had been up to Dick's room. Now they lost no time in
going below. In all eagerness they burst into the library, where
Anderson Rover sat reading a magazine and Randolph Rover one of his
favorite works on scientific farming.

"Dick has got the money casket open!" cried Sam.

"And he has found a map," added Tom. "We want Uncle Randolph to read the
writing. It's in French."

"Found a map in that old brass-lined box, eh?" said Anderson Rover.
"That's interesting."

"I am afraid my French is a trifle rusty," remarked Randolph Rover, as
he put down his book. "Let me see the map."

He took it to the window, and both he and Anderson Rover looked it over
with keen interest.

"Why, this is a map of the locality around Timber Run," said Randolph
Rover. "That's a great lumbering section in the Adirondacks."

"Timber Run!" echoed Tom, and for the moment said no more. But he
remembered what Dora Stanhope had said, that after the holidays Nellie
and Grace Laning were going on a visit to an aunt who lived at Timber
Run.

"Yes, Thomas, this is a map of Timber Run. This stream is the Perch
River, and this is Bear Pond. The naming is in French, but that is the
English of it."

"Please read the writing on the back," said Dick. "If the map is worth
anything I want to know it."

Without further ado Randolph Rover began to read the writing. It was a
hard and tedious task, and the translating was, to him, equally
difficult, for his knowledge of French was somewhat limited. Translated,
the writing ran somewhat after this fashion:

"To find the box of silver and gold, go to where Bear Pond empties into
Perch River. Ten paces to the west is a large pine tree, which was once
struck by lightning. Go due southwest from the pine tree sixty-two
paces, to the flat rock, behind which is a sharp-pointed rock. Beneath
the sharp-pointed rock is the chamber with the box. Stranger, beware of
Goupert's ghost."


       *       *       *       *       *

"A treasure in the mountains!" cried Sam. "Hurrah! let's go and get it!"

"Bear Pond lies between two high mountains," said Randolph Rover. "It is
in a very wild country, and so far but little of the timber has been
taken out."

"Never mind, we'll go anyhow!" put in Tom enthusiastically. "Why, the
box may be worth a fortune!"

"Yes, let us go by all means," put in Dick. "I wouldn't like any better
fun than hunting for a treasure box."

"Haven't you boys had adventures enough?" questioned Anderson Rover.
"You've been to Africa and out West, and on the ocean and the Great
Lakes----"

"Oh, this would just be a little winter's outing in the mountains," said
Tom. "We could go hunting, and have lots of fun, even if we didn't find
the treasure box."

"The treasure box was probably taken away years ago," said Randolph
Rover. "Most likely several of the smugglers knew of it."

"And what of that ghost?" asked Anderson Rover, with a twinkle in his
eyes.

"Pooh! we're not afraid of ghosts," sniffed Sam. "Are we, Tom?"

"If I saw a ghost, I'd be apt to pepper him with shot, if I had my gun,"
answered Tom. "No, I'm not afraid of such things--and neither is Dick."

"It would be a fine thing to find a big boxful of silver," said Dick
seriously. "I know there was lots in that cave, before Dan Baxter
scooped it in. And, by the way, he must have that other map yet."

"Perhaps he went for the treasure box!" burst out Sam.

"If the box is gone, we can't help it," said Tom. "But I move we get to
Timber Run and Bear Pond just as soon as possible."

"Do you want to start in this cold weather?" asked his father anxiously.

"Pooh! It isn't so very cold."

"It's a good deal colder up in the mountains than it is here, I can tell
you that. Why, you might easily freeze to death if you got lost in the
snow."

"I wonder if we couldn't find some guide who knows that territory
thoroughly," mused Dick.

"If you could find a good guide, I wouldn't mind your going," said his
parent. "But I shall object to your going alone."

"Then we'll hunt for a guide, and without delay," said Dick. "I would
like to go up there before Putnam Hall opens again."

"So would I," came from his two brothers.

"I think I know where you can get a guide," said Tom, after a pause.
"The Lanings have relatives at Timber Run. Let's write to Mr. Laning."

This was agreed to, and a special trip was made to the village by Aleck
Pop to post the letter. In the letter they asked Mr. Laning to
telegraph, if possible, in reply.

The telegram came shortly after noon the next day. It ran as follows:

    "I feel sure my brother-in-law, John Barrow, of Timber Run, can
    supply a reliable guide. Will write to him.

    "JOHN LANING."

"That settles it," said Dick. "I know the Lanings will do what is right
by us, so we may as well get ready to start at once. Are you willing,
father?"

"Yes, Dick," was the answer. "But be sure and keep out of danger, and
keep Tom and Sam out, too."




CHAPTER XIII.

THE HEART OF THE ADIRONDACK.


Three days later found the Rover boys in the heart of the Adirondack
Mountains of New York State. They had left home, after a hasty but
thorough preparation, two days before, and taken the train from Oak Run
to the mountain village of Medwell. At Medwell they had taken the stage
to Barton's Corners, and at this point had hired a private conveyance to
carry them and their outfit to Timber Run.

At the time of which I write Timber Run was nothing more than a
collection of a dozen houses, strung along a branch of the Perch River,
where that stream turned the southern slope of a high hill known as Bald
Top. There was a general store here and also an office belonging to the
Timber Run Lumber Company. But business with the company was slow, and
the village, consequently, was almost destitute of life, two of the
houses being without tenants.

"Well, this doesn't look much like a place," remarked Sam, as they got
out of the heavy lumber wagon which had brought them and their outfit
over.

"Phew! but aint it cold!" exclaimed Tom, dancing around and slapping his
arms over his chest. "I wonder how Nellie and Grace Laning like this?"

"I'll wager you've been thinking of Nellie all the way up," said Dick
slyly, remembering how his brother had tormented him about Dora
Stanhope.

"Couldn't think of anything but how cold it was," growled Tom, but his
face took on a sudden redness. "Where do you go next?" he demanded, to
change the subject.

"Let's go over to the store and ask for Mr. John Barrow," suggested
Dick.

The store was at a fork in the roads, and thither they hurried, to get
inside, for the ride from Barton's Corners had certainly been a chilling
one. In the store they found a big pot stove throwing out a generous
amount of heat, and around this stove were gathered half a dozen men,
smoking and telling stories.

"So you are the young men who are looking for John Barrow," said the
storekeeper, after listening to what Dick had to say. "He was here
waiting for you, and he'll be back in a bit. Rather a cold ride, eh?
Draw up to the fire and warm up."

A place was made for the lads, and while they were "thawing out," as
Sam put it, John Barrow came in. He proved to be a tall, powerful built
lumberman, with a well-tanned face and sharp, but kindly, eyes.

"How do you do," he said, as he shook hands. "Real glad to know you.
Yes, I got a letter from John Laning, my brother-in-law, tellin' me all
about you. He says as how you want a guide fer these parts. Well, I
don't want to brag, but I reckon I know the lay o' the land 'round here
about as good as any o' 'em, and a heap sight better nor lots."

"We'd like you first-rate for a guide," said Tom, who was pleased with
John Barrow's looks, as were also his brothers. "But can you spare the
time?"

"Reckon I can, just now. You see, the lumber company has got in some
sort of a tangle with the owner of the timber on this tract, and
consequently work is at a standstill. That's why you see so many men
hangin' around here."

"Then you work for the company?" asked Dick.

"I do in the winter time, but not in the summer. I've got a tidy farm
down the river a bit, and I let out my hosses to the company to haul
timber. It's cash money, you see, when the haulin' is goin' on."

"I believe the Laning girls are stopping with you," put in Sam.

"Yes, Nellie and Grace came up some time ago. You see, our girl, Addie,
gits tired being on the farm with only her mother, so we invited her
cousins to come up for a spell. They've had some pretty good times
together, so far, skatin' and sleighin', and the like. They are all
anxious to see you."

John Barrow had brought with him his wagon, and into this their outfit
was dumped, and a minute later they were off, down the winding and rough
road running along the bank of the river, which was now frozen to a
thickness of a foot or more and covered with several inches of snow.

"You say you know this locality," observed Dick, as they bumped along
over the frozen ground. "Do you know the spot where Bear Pond empties
into Perch River?"

"I know several such spots, my lad."

"Several!" came from all of the Rover boys.

"Yes, several. You see the ground around the pond is marshy, and the
heavy rains cut all sorts of gullies here and there, so the pond empties
into the river, now, at five or six p'ints."

"Are these points very far apart?" asked Sam, in dismay. "You see, I'm
very anxious we should know the exact particulars."

"Indeed!" John Barrow looked at them curiously. "Say, I reckon I know
what you are after!" he burst out suddenly.

"What?" came from the three.

"You're on a hunt for old Goupert's treasure."

"Why, what do you know about that?" demanded Dick. He remembered that
the writing on the map said, "Beware of Goupert's ghost."

"Oh, that's an old yarn about here, and at different times we've had
more'n a hundred folks a-hunting around for that old Frenchman's money
box, but nobody ever got so much as a smell o' it."

"Who was Goupert?" asked Tom.

"Goupert was a thoroughly bad man, who lived sixty or seventy years ago.
The story goes that he used to be a smuggler and that he came here when
the authorities chased him off the Great Lakes. He had lots o' money,
but he was a miser, and a queer stick to boot. He built himself a cabin
on Bear Pond, and lived there all alone for two years. Then some lake
men came down here, and one night there was a big row and the lake men
disappeared. Goupert couldn't be found at first, but about a month later
some hunters discovered his dead body tied to a tree in the woods, not
far from the spot you asked about. He had been left to starve to death.
The story was that the lake men had starved him in order to get him to
tell where he had hidden his money box, and that old Goupert was too
much o' a miser to let the secret out. So folks begun to hunt for that
money box high an' low, but never got a smell o' it, as I said."

"Did you ever hunt for the money?" questioned Dick.

"No, I never had no time to waste. So you really came up on that
account?"

"We came up on that account, and also to have a good time in the
mountains," said Dick, before Sam or Tom could speak. "But, Mr. Barrow,
I wish you wouldn't mention this to the other folks around here. They
might laugh at us for coming on what they think is a wild-goose chase."

"Oh, I won't say a word on it--if you want it that way."

"Did this Goupert leave any relatives?" asked Sam.

"No, lad, not a soul."

"Then if we should find that treasure it would belong to us," put in
Tom.

"Every penny on it, lad. But don't raise any high hopes, or you may be
sorely disapp'inted."

"Oh, I came for a good time," replied Tom, in an off-handed a manner as
possible.

Presently John Barrow had to get out of the wagon to fix something on
the harness. While he was doing this Dick leaned over to his two
brothers.

"Don't say anything about the map to anybody," he whispered. "We'll
keep that a secret for the present." And Tom and Sam nodded, to show
that they understood.

The ride to John Barrow's house soon came to an end, and as the boys
alighted at the horseblock the door opened and Nellie and Grace Laning
appeared.

"How do you do, Tom!" cried Nellie, as she ran and caught him by the
hand, while Grace did the same to Sam. "We're awfully glad to see you,
and to see Dick and Sam, too," and a hand-shaking all around followed.
Then Mrs. Barrow, a motherly woman, was introduced and also her daughter
Addie, who was Nellie's age, and full of fun.

"Come right in, boys," said Mrs. Barrow. "Supper is waiting, and I'm
sure you must be hungry."

"Hungry doesn't describe it," said Tom. "I could eat sole leather. Phew!
what an appetite riding in this mountain air does give a fellow!"

"Can you ever remember the time when you wasn't without an appetite,
Tom?" asked Nellie Laning, with a laugh.

"Never go so far into ancient history," he returned solemnly, and a
general laugh followed.

Soon their outfit was safely housed in the barn, and then they entered
the house, where the long supper table, filled with good things, awaited
them. All three of the girls insisted upon waiting on the boys, and it
proved as jolly a meal as they had ever eaten. They lingered for an hour
at the table, talking and cracking nuts, and during that time the Rover
boys became thoroughly acquainted with the Barrow family.

"Oh, I've heard lots about you!" said Addie Barrow. "Nellie has told me
great, long stories about Tom's bravery, and Grace has told me all about
Sam's doings, and both of them have told about you, Dick----"

"Now, do be still, Addie!" put in Nellie Laning. "I declare, I never
said a word!"

"Oh! A word! Why, you kept me awake one night for over an hour telling
about how Tom----"

"Let's have a song," broke in Sam. "I see an organ in the next room and
some music. You must play," he added, to Addie.

"She plays beautifully," put in Grace, thankful for the change of
subject. "Addie, give them that new song, 'I'm Sorry, Oh, So Sorry!'"

"All right," answered the young lady of the house, and sitting down at
the organ she ran her hands over the keys and started the song. She
could sing and play well, and all joined in the chorus. The music was
kept up for over an hour, and then the Rover boys retired, highly
pleased over their reception.




CHAPTER XIV.

THE START UP THE RIVER.


"If it wasn't for finding that treasure box I'd just as lief stay here
for a few days," remarked Tom, on getting up the following morning.

"Ditto myself," came from Sam. "We could have a boss good time, eh?"

"How about it if Nellie and Grace weren't here?" came from Dick, and
then dodged a shoe thrown at him by Tom and a pillow sent forth by Sam.
"No, boys, it won't do--we must leave for the hunt to-day. Why, there
may be a million in it."

"That's right, Dick; when you fly, fly high," said Tom. "That Frenchman
never had a million. If he had a couple of thousand he'd be lucky."

"And of course, a couple of thousand is of no importance to us," put in
Sam grandiloquently.

"All right; I'll go on the hunt alone."

"No, Dick, of course we'll go," said Tom hastily. "When do you want to
start?"

"As soon as Mr. Barrow can get off."

But, in spite of Dick's anxiety to get off, the start was delayed for a
whole day, much to Tom and Sam's secret joy. John Barrow had to go to
Timber Run for things needed in the house by his wife and daughter.

When he returned there was a broad grin on his face.

"I've got news for you," he said to Dick, who had followed him down to
the barn. "There's another party arrived at Timber Run on the hunt fer
that treasure of old Goupert's."

"Another party. Who is it?"

"Didn't hear their names. There are two men and a young fellow o'
nineteen or twenty. They have hired Bill Harney fer a guide, and are
goin' to strike out fer the Pond to-morrow."

"Two men and a young fellow," mused Dick. "I'd like to know who they
are."

"One o' the men looked like a preacher or schoolmaster. He called the
young feller Thacher, or something like that."

"It wasn't Baxter?" queried Dick, struck by a sudden idea.

"That's the name--now I remember."

"And the man, did they call him Grinder--Jasper Grinder?" went on Dick
excitedly.

"If it wasn't Grinder, it was something like it. The party came east
from Ithaca."

"It's Dan Baxter and Jasper Grinder sure!" burst out Dick. "Well, this
beats the nation."

"Then you know the crowd?"

"I do--to my sorrow, Mr. Barrow. That Dan Baxter is the good-for-nothing
young fellow I told you of this morning, and Jasper Grinder was a
teacher at the Hall. We had a big row with him and he was kicked out in
a hurry by Captain Putnam. They are our enemies."

"Humph! That promises to make it interesting for you. But it's queer
they should come up at the same time you're here," went on the lumberman
thoughtfully.

"I might as well let you into a secret, Mr. Barrow. Will you promise to
keep it entirely to yourself?"

"Certainly, lad, if it's an honest secret."

"It is honest," answered Dick, and thereupon told of the adventure on
Needle Point Island and of the map on the table, and how it had
disappeared, and of the finding of the second map in the brass-lined
money casket later on.

"I am sure Dan Baxter has that other map," he concluded. "He wants that
treasure as badly as we do."

"Then I allow as how it will be a nip-an'-tuck race between you,"
returned John Barrow. "The fust to get there will be the best man. O'
course, with that map it ought to be plain enough sailin'."

"I thought it would be, but it will mix us up, now you say that Bear
Pond empties into Perch River in several places. We'll have to try one
place after another."

"Do your directions start from that p'int?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll have to find the right emptyin' place, that's all. My advice
is to start fer the spot to-morrow early."

So it was arranged, and Dick called Tom and Sam down to the barn to talk
it over. It was late in the afternoon, and all worked until after the
supper hour in preparing for the start.

"It's a good twenty miles' tramp from here," said John Barrow, "and
we'll have to climb two pretty steep mountains to get to the spot."

"Why can't we follow the stream up?" asked Tom. "That would be easier
than tramping up the mountains."

"By the river the way is at least forty miles, and there are half a
dozen rough spots where you'd have to walk a mile or two."

"We have our skates," said Sam. "Skating would be easier than walking,
and pulling the sleds on the ice would be child's play."

"Well, I allow as how I wouldn't mind skatin' myself," said John Barrow
thoughtfully. "I never thought of that before. If you want to, we can
try that trail. We can take to the mountain any time, if we find skating
no good."

So it was arranged that they should strike out for Bear Pond by way of
the river, and the sleds, of which there were two, were packed
accordingly, and the boys saw to it that their skates were well
sharpened and otherwise in good condition.

"When you're skating, you want to look out for air holes," was John
Barrow's caution. "Fer where the river runs between the mountains it is
mighty deep in spots, I can tell you that!"

"Thanks, I'll be on my guard," answered Tom, with a shiver. "I've had
all I want of icy baths this winter."

The girls were sorry to see the boys leave so quickly, but were consoled
when Tom promised to stay longer on the return. On the following morning
breakfast was had at six o'clock, and by seven they were off, everybody
wishing them a good time. Only Mrs. Barrow knew that the boys were on a
treasure, and not a bird and wild animal, hunt.

It was a clear, frosty day and everybody was in the best of spirits. The
boys wore fur caps and warm clothing, and each was provided with either
a rifle or a shot-gun. So far they had seen but little game around the
farm, but John Barrow assured them that the timber and mountains were
full of game of all sorts.

"I wonder what route Dan Baxter's party took," said Dick, as they gained
the river, and stopped to put on their skates.

"I didn't hear what route they took," answered their guide. "I reckon
they went straight over the mountains. I don't believe as how Bill
Harney takes to skating."

"Is this Bill Harney a good sort?" asked Tom. "If he is, I can tell you
he has got into bad company."

"Bill isn't so bad when he's sober. It's when he gits full o' rum that
he makes things lively. He's a great drinker."

They were soon on the river, which at this point was fifty to sixty feet
wide. The snow covered a large portion of the surface, but the wind had
cleared many a long stretch, and they skated on these, dragging the
sleds behind them. Each sled was packed high with the camping outfit,
but they ran along readily.

"I wonder how long we'll be out," said Sam, as he skated by Tom's side.

"I guess that will depend upon what luck we have, Sam. If we strike the
right spot first clip we ought to be back inside of five or six days."

As the party moved up the river they found the stream wound in and out
between the mountains On either side were bare rocky walls or dense
patches of timber, with here and there a tiny open space, now piled deep
with snowdrifts.

"I see some rabbits ahead!" cried Tom presently. "Wonder if I can bring
them down," he added, as he unslung his gun. But long before he could
take aim the bunnies were out of sight amid the timber.

"You'll have to carry your gun in your hand for a shot at them," came
from Dick. "But be careful, or you may trip up on some frozen twig and
shoot somebody."

Mile after mile was passed, but no further game came to view, much to
Tom's disgust.

"Not much right around here," said John Barrow, as he saw Tom put his
gun back over his shoulder. "The boys from Timber Run have cleared the
ground putty well. But you'll see something sure a little further
on--and maybe more'n you bargain for."

"I'm not afraid of big game, Mr. Barrow. We faced some pretty bad
animals when we were in Africa and out West."

"I allow that must be so, Tom. But you want to be careful even so. A big
mountain deer or a bear aint to be fooled with, I can tell you that."

About eleven o'clock they came to the first falls above Timber Run. Here
the water was frozen into solid masses, but the way was so uneven they
found it profitable to take off their skates and "tote" the sleds around
the spot. This necessitated a walk of several hundred feet through the
timber skirting the edge of the river. The way was uncertain, and John
Barrow went ahead, to steer the party clear of any danger.

"Finest timber in the world right here," he observed. "I can't see why
the timber company don't get together and put it in the market. It would
fetch a good price."

"Wait! I see something in yonder trees!" cried Dick, in a low voice.
"Can you make out what they are?"

"Wild turkeys!" answered the guide. "Git down behind these bushes. If we
can bag a few of them, we'll have rich eatin' for a few days!"




CHAPTER XV.

WILD TURKEYS.


Without delay the Rover boys dropped behind the bushes, and John Barrow
did the same. All kept as quiet as possible, for they knew that on the
first alarm the wild turkeys would be off.

The game was not over six feet from the ground, sitting in three rows on
as many branches of a hemlock that overhung the stream. There were over
a dozen in the flock, each as plump as wild turkeys ever get.

"How shall we fire?" asked Dick. "There is no call for all of us to
shoot at the same bird."

"I'll take one on the left," answered John Barrow. "You take one on the
right. Tom can take a middle one sitting high, and Sam a middle one
sitting low. All ready?"

"Yes," came the answer, from one after another.

"Then fire when I say three. One, two--three!"

Bang! bang! went the firearms, and as the reports echoed through the
forest, two of the wild turkeys were seen to drop dead under the
branches upon which they had been sitting. One, that was badly wounded,
fluttered down and began to thrash around in the brush. The rest of the
flock flew away with a rush and were lost to sight between the trees.

"Three! That isn't so bad!" cried Dick, as they all started on a run
forward. Soon they had the turkey on the ground surrounded, and John
Barrow caught up the game and wrung its neck.

"I guess I missed my mark," came rather sheepishly from Tom.

"You!" exclaimed Sam, in surprise. "I was just going to say I had
missed."

"Nobody missed," put in the guide.

"Nobody?" came from the three Rovers.

"Somebody must have missed," added Tom. "We fired four shots and only
got three birds."

"One of those that flew off was wounded. He dropped a lot of feathers
and went up in a shaky fashion. Of course, he got away, but just the
same, he was hit."

"Well, I thought I missed clean and clear," said Tom doubtfully.

"And I thought I missed," laughed Sam. "I guess we'll have to divide
that third bird between us, Tom."

"We've got all the wild-turkey meat we'll want on this trip," came from
John Barrow. "Before this is gone, you'll want a change, I'll warrant
you."

While the guide was caring for the birds the boys went back for the
sleds. Soon they were again on the way, and they did not stop until the
vicinity of the falls was left far behind and they had again reached a
point where skating would be good for several miles.

"Reckon we can stop here and have dinner," observed the guide. "Feelin'
kind o' hungry, aint you?"

"Just guess I am hungry," declared Tom "But I didn't want to say
anything till the rest did."

Some of the cooking utensils were unpacked, and while the boys got wood
for the fire, John Barrow brought out some coffee and other things. It
was decided that they should not take time to cook a turkey until they
went into camp for the night.

Soon a fire was blazing merrily. They built it under the outer end of a
long tree limb, and from the limb suspended a pot full of water by a
long iron chain they had brought along. As the ground was covered with
snow, there was little danger of spreading a conflagration. Soon the
water was boiling and the guide made a steaming pot of coffee, which was
passed around in tin cups, with sugar and a little condensed milk. They
had brought along bread, cheese, chipped beef, and boiled eggs, and
also a mince pie which Mrs. Barrow had baked the day before, and these
made what Tom declared was a famous dinner.

"No sauce like hunger sauce," laughed John Barrow, as he saw the lads
stow the food away. "Once I was trampin' the mountains all day without a
mouthful when I chanced to look in a corner o' my game bag and found a
slice o' bread, at least two weeks old. I ate that bread up, hard as it
was, and nuthin' ever tasted sweeter."

"You're right," returned Dick. "The folks in the city who don't know
what to get to tickle their appetite ought to go hungry a few times.
Then I'm sure they'd appreciate what they got."

The midday meal finished, they lost no time in repacking the sled load
and starting up the river once more. The stream was now wider than
before, and presently spread out into a small lake.

"This is known as Tillard's Pond," said John Barrow. "Feller named Gus
Tillard built his cabin over yonder, about ten years ago. He went out
bar-huntin' one day, and Mr. Bar came along and chewed him up."

"Gracious! Then there must be pretty ugly customers in this vicinity,"
exclaimed Sam, with a shiver.

"Not so many as there used to be. After Tillard's death the boys over to
the Run organized a b'ar hunt, and we brought in six o' the critters.
Reckon thet scart the others--leas'wise no b'ars showed up fer a long
while after."

Out on Tillard's Pond a stiff breeze was blowing, and consequently their
progress was not as rapid as it had been, nor were any of them as warm
as formerly.

"We're going to have a cold first night, I can tell you that," said
Dick, and his prediction proved true. By the time the sun sank to rest
behind the mountain in the west it was "snapping cold," as Tom expressed
it. The wind increased until to go forward was almost impossible.

"I know a pretty good place to rest in," said the guide. "It isn't over
quarter of a mile from here. If we can make that we'll be all right till
mornin'."

John Barrow led the way, pulling one of the sleds, and the boys
followed. Poor Sam was getting winded and skated only with the greatest
of difficulty.

It was dark when they reached the location the guide had in mind--a
rocky wall on one side of the river. At one point there was a split in
the rocks. This was overgrown at the top with cedars and brushwood,
forming something of a cave, ten or twelve feet wide and twice as deep,
the bottom of which was of rock and fairly smooth.

"I camped here two winters ago," said John Barrow, as he called a halt.
"I laced up the cedars above and they formed a fust-rate roof."

"I guess they are pretty well laced still," observed Dick. "They seem to
hold the snow very well. But we won't dare to make a fire in there."

"We'll build a fire in front, in this hollow, Dick. That will throw a
good deal of hot air into the place, and if we wrap ourselves in our
blankets we'll be warm enough."

Everyone in the party was anxious to get out of the nipping wind, and
they lost no time in entering the "cave," as Sam called it. The entrance
was low, and by placing the two sleds in an upright position on either
side they left an opening not over a yard wide. Directly in front of
this the boys started a roaring fire, cutting down several dwarf cedars
for that purpose.

"I don't much like the looks o' the sky to-night," observed John Barrow,
after preparing one of the turkeys for cooking.

"Do you think there is a storm coming?" asked Tom.

"Looks to me like snow, an plenty of it."

"I hope it doesn't come until we reach Bear Pond," said Dick, "I don't
want Dan Baxter and his crowd to get ahead of us."

"They won't have no better time o' it than we'll have," was the guide's
grim comment. "Aint no fun trampin' over the mountains with the snow
comin' down heavily; I can tell you that."

The wind continued to increase, and after the supper was cooked and
brought into the shelter, the guide took it upon himself to bank the
fire with great care, that it might not blow into the forest and start a
big conflagration.

"We've had some terrible fires here," he said. "One threatened my barn
two years ago, and we had to stay out two days an' a night a-fightin'
it. It would be a bad thing a night like this."

To keep out the cold, Dick crawled to the top of the opening and bound
in the cedar limbs closer than ever. He also got some brush-wood and
some vines, and on these placed a thick layer of snow.

"That's fine!" cried Sam, from below. "It's almost as tight as the roof
of a cabin."

Tightening the roof made a big difference inside, and when they had hung
up a blanket behind the upright sleds, and placed some cedar brush on
the floor, it was very cozy. They had brought along some candles, and
one of these was lit and placed in a lantern which was in one of the
packs. It was not a bright light, but it was better than sitting in the
dark, and it seemed to make the shelter warmer than ever.




CHAPTER XVI.

ON THE WRONG TRAIL.


One of the turkeys was finished even to the neck piece, and then both
Tom and Sam declared that they were so sleepy they could scarcely keep
their eyes open.

"It must be the mountain air," said Dick. "I'm sleepy, too. Let us turn
in."

"Will anybody have to stand watch?" asked Sam.

At this John Barrow shook his head. "Don't know as it's necessary," he
said. "Reckon we're safe enough. I'll keep my gun handy, in case any
animal prowls around."

The boys laid down and were soon in the land of dreams. Tom and Sam
slept near the back wall, with Dick next, and the guide near the
opening, which, however, was now completely closed by the blanket. The
fire was allowed to die down, for they did not dare to build it up, with
such a wind blowing.

Nothing came to disturb them. Once during the night Dick roused up and
heard the distant howling of a wolf. But the beast did not venture
close to the shelter, and while waiting for its appearance the youth
dropped asleep again.

By midnight the wind fell a little, and then it began to snow, and it
was still snowing when John Barrow leaped up, pushed the blanket aside,
and gazed out upon the river.

"Hullo, we're in for it now!" he cried, and as the boys sat up, he
added: "Snowin'--mighty hard, too."

"I should say it was snowing hard!" cried Tom, as he, too, looked out.
"Why, you can't see the trees on the other side, and they aren't more
than a hundred and fifty feet off."

"This will make traveling bad," said Dick soberly. "It almost looks as
if we were going to be snowed in."

"Snowed in?" echoed Sam. "Oh, don't say that!"

The boys were somewhat stiff after their long skate of the day before,
and it took them some minutes to pull themselves together. Then the
curtain was pushed aside, and the fire started up with some dry
brushwood from the pile on which they had slept. Soon breakfast was
ready, and this warmed them up and put new life in them.

"No use to linger here," announced the guide. "It won't git no better
an' it may git a heap sight worse. I reckon the wind kept some o' the
spots on the river clear. I know a good camping spot ten miles from
here, and that will be just the place for us while you are huntin'
around fer that money."

"Then let us make that camping spot by all means," said Tom. "We mustn't
let Baxter get first whack at the treasure."

It was eight o'clock when they started once more on their journey. The
air was dull and heavy, and the snow came down in thick flakes, which
presently shut out the landscape on all sides. Fortunately the wind had
died down entirely, so it was not near so cold as it had been.

"It would be easy enough, if we could stick to the river all the way,"
remarked. Tom to Sam, as they skated along as best they could.

"Can't we?"

"Mr. Barrow says not. About two miles from here are another falls and a
set of rocky rapids, and we'll have to walk around for a distance of
nearly a mile through the woods."

What Tom said was true, and the falls were reached less than an hour
later. The river was very narrow at this point and lined on both sides
with rough rocks. Climbing was difficult, and after crawling along for a
few rods the boys halted in dismay.

"We're up against it now," groaned Dick

"Don't be discouraged lads!" came from the guide. "It isn't so bad a
short distance further on. Follow me." And he started again, and there
was nothing to do but to fall in behind him.

John Barrow and Dick carried one sled, and Tom and Sam, the other. In
some places the cedars and brush were so thick that those in advance
pushed through only with extreme difficulty.

"Well, we haven't got the task of breaking the way," said Tom, as he and
Sam stopped to get their wind. "It's no fool job to break through this
thicket."

"We are going up a hill," returned Sam. "We must be getting away from
the river."

The guide and Dick had disappeared ahead, and, fearful of losing them,
the younger Rovers set off once more. Carrying the heavy sled up the
hill was, however, a great task, especially for Sam, and once at the top
they had to rest again.

"I believe it would have been just as easy to have kept to the river,"
declared Tom "See, there it is, to our left."

"It certainly doesn't look very rough down there," was his brother's
comment. "Gracious, but Dick and Mr. Barrow plow along like steam
engines!" he added. "I can't go so fast."

"We won't hurry, there is no need. The trail is plain enough," said Tom,
and so they rested fully quarter of an hour. Then they heard Dick
calling to them from a long distance ahead.

"All right; we're coming!" Tom called back. "Just please don't go so
awfully fast!"

"We are going to take the trail to the left!" Dick shouted back, but the
others did not catch the words.

Tom and Sam advanced now slower than ever, and when they reached a spot
where there was an opening to the right and another to the left, the
others were not only out of sight, but out of hearing as well. It had
now begun to snow more thickly than ever.

"Which way did they take?" questioned Sam, in perplexity.

"Reckon they went this way, Sam."

"It looks to me as if they went the other way. Here are some
footprints."

"Here are some footprints, too."

They came to a standstill, more perplexed than ever. Sure enough, there
were two sets of footprints, running almost at right angles to each
other.

"I guess we've hit somebody else's trail," said Sam. "Dick! Mr. Barrow!
Where are you?" he called out.

No answer came back, and then the two boys shouted in chorus. All
remained as silent as before.

"Well, this is a mess, to say the least," was Tom's comment. "How are
we to know which trail to follow?"

"I move we make a sure thing of it and get down to the river again," was
Sam's answer. "Then we'll be certain to be on the right track. As soon
as they reach the river they'll wait for us."

This seemed sensible advice, and leaving both trails the boys plunged
through the cedar brakes to where they had seen the icy surface of the
stream. They had to make several turns, and once Tom lost his footing
and rolled over and over in the snow. But at last they gained the smooth
ice, and then each breathed a long sigh of relief.

"It's ten times better than climbing around," observed Sam. "The rapids
and rocks amount to next to nothing. I don't see why Mr. Barrow gave us
all that extra climbing."

"Perhaps the river has changed since he was up here last," said Tom.
"Anyway, it's a good bit narrower here than it was further back."

Sliding down the hillside had loosened the load on the sled, and they
had to spend a good five minutes in fastening it and mending a strap
that had broken. Then several minutes more were consumed in putting on
their skates.

"My! how it does snow!" came from Tom, as they started at last. "I
can't see fifty feet ahead."

"Nor I, Tom. I really wish we were with Dick and Mr. Barrow."

"So do I, but I guess it's all right."

Forward they pushed, dragging the sled after them. It was rough work,
and the ice was often covered too deep with snow to make skating a
pleasure.

"It seems to me the river is getting narrower than ever," said Sam.
"It's queer, too, for Mr. Barrow said it was quite broad near the lake."

"He said one of the branches was broad, Sam. We must be on a different
branch."

"Let us call to them again."

Once more they cried out, at the top of their lungs. But nothing
answered them, not even a muffled echo. All was swallowed up in the
loneliness of the situation and in the fast falling snow, which now
covered even the load on the sled to the depth of an inch or more.

"Come on," said Sam half desperately. "We must catch up to them, sooner
or later."

"Perhaps we are ahead of them."

"It isn't likely. Let us go on, anyway."

And on they went, another quarter of a mile. The stream was now broader,
and this raised their hopes considerably. But suddenly Tom gave a cry of
dismay.

"Look, Sam! We have reached the end of the stream!"

Sam strained his eyes and went on a few feet further. Then he gave a
groan. His brother was right, the stream had come to an end in a pond
probably a hundred feet in diameter. They had not been following the
Perch River at all, but merely a brook flowing into that stream!




CHAPTER XVII.

AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY.


"Tom, we have missed it!"

"It looks like it, Sam."

"What we took for the river wasn't the river at all. We must be a mile
or two out of the way."

"There is nothing to do but to go back," was the dismal response.

"Don't you think we might strike the river without going back?"

"We might, and then again we might not. I hardly feel like taking the
risk--in this blinding snow."

With heavy hearts the brothers turned the sled around and proceeded on
the back trail, if such the way may be called. As a matter of fact, the
snow had covered their footprints completely.

The wind was now rising again, and it blew directly into their faces.
Alarmed more than ever, on this account, they pushed on until poor Sam
was almost winded.

"I--I can't go on so fast, no use in trying!" he panted. "I feel ready
to drop!"

"I'm fagged out myself," responded Tom. "But, Sam, we can't afford to
rest here."

"I know that, but I've got to get my wind back somehow. The wind seems
to be awfully strong."

They rested for several minutes, and then pushed on again, Tom dragging
the sled alone. It was a bitter journey, and both would have given a
good deal to have been with Dick and the guide once more.

"We missed it when we didn't keep up with them in the first place," was
Tom's comment. "However, there's no use in crying over spilt milk, as
the saying goes. We must make the best of it."

"There isn't any best," grumbled Sam. "It's all worst!" And then Tom
laughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

At last they gained the spot where they had first struck the brook, and
here they halted again.

"The worst of it is, there is no telling how far this brook runs before
it empties into the Perch River," observed Tom. "We may have to go two
or three miles out of our way."

"We may as well climb up the hill again, Tom, and try to follow one of
those trails."

"Perhaps you are right."

They talked the matter over and at last began to climb the hill, now
more difficult than before, since the snow was several inches deeper.
It took a long while to gain the top, and still longer to find the spot
where they had left the trail.

"Here we are," said Tom, resting on a fallen tree which marked the
locality. "Now the all-important question is, which way next?"

"Tom, I believe we are getting lost," came from Sam, in a dismal tone.

"I don't think we're getting lost, Sam; we _are_ lost, no two ways about
it. We've got to keep our eyes open and our wits about us, or we'll be
getting into a first-class mess."

"It must be almost noon," went on the youngest Rover, and pulled out his
watch. "Phew! Half-past twelve!"

"Thought I was hungry. Is there anything in this load good to eat?"

"I don't know. Let us look and see. We can't go on, hungry."

They unstrapped the load and examined it. There were blankets there and
some camp utensils, and a box containing crackers, cheese, and chipped
beef.

"Crackers and cheese will do on a pinch," said Tom. "Come, we mustn't
lose more time than is necessary."

Yet eating and resting was very pleasant, and they spent the best part
of half an hour under the sheltering limbs of a big cedar tree. Both
were dry, but eating snow did not seem to quench their thirst. The wind
increased as they ate, but the snow now came down more lightly.

They decided to strike out on something of a trail running to the
northwest. It was hard work hauling and carrying the sled over the rocks
and through the bushes, and they often had to halt for breath.

"There goes something!" cried Tom presently. "Sam, did you see it?"

"I saw something, but it disappeared before I could make out what it
was."

The object had crossed their path a hundred feet ahead of them. Now it
reappeared somewhat closer, and both boys saw that it was a lean and
hungry-looking wolf.

"A wolf!" cried Sam.

"Wonder if I hadn't better shoot him," said Tom, unslinging his gun.

"Better save your powder, Tom. I don't believe he'll attack us--at least
not while it is light."

"A shot might bring an answering signal from Dick," went on Tom
suddenly. "What fools we have been, not to think of that before!"

The wolf kept hidden and Tom did not shoot, expecting to see the beast
reappear at any instant. On they went, keeping an eye on the bushes and
trees on both sides of them. Once they heard the patter of the wolf's
feet on a stretch of bare rocks, but that was all.

"I'll fire a shot, anyway," said Tom at last, and aimed in the direction
where they had heard the sounds last. To his intense surprise a yelp and
a snarl followed.

"Great Caesar! I hit him after all," began Tom, and then leaped back.
"Look out, Sam, he's coming for us!"

Tom was right. The wolf, wounded in the left flank, had suddenly
appeared. His eyes blazed with pain and fury, and he made as if to
spring upon the boys.

Tom was in front of the sled and Sam behind it. With a quick leap Tom
cleared the load and took up a position beside the youngest Rover.

The wolf made the leap, but stopped short on the top of the load. As he
prepared to spring again Tom swung his gun around by the barrel and hit
the wolf a smart rap on the head. The animal rolled over on the ground.

"Shoot him, Sam!"

"I will, if I can!" came from Sam, who had now unslung his gun. Taking a
quick aim, he fired.

The shot proved a good one, for it took the wolf directly in the neck,
just as he was scrambling to rise. Again he gave a yelp, and then began
to turn over and over in his intense pain. Of a sudden he leaped up and
landed on Tom's shoulder.

For the instant poor Tom thought his last moment had come. But as the
beast landed Sam struck it with his gun, and down it went once more,
snarling viciously. Then it rolled and tossed until some brush was
gained, when it managed to hide itself and crawl away, seriously, if not
mortally, wounded.

"He's gone!" came from Sam.

"Well, don't go after him," panted Tom. "Let him go and welcome. I never
want to see him again."

"Nor I."

Both reloaded with all haste--having learned years before that it is
foolish to remain in the wilds with an empty firearm. Then they waited,
to see if the wolf would return.

"Hark!" cried Sam. "Did you hear that shot, Tom?"

"I did. I think it came from that direction." And Tom pointed with his
hand.

"I think so myself. It must be Dick or Mr. Barrow, firing."

"More than likely. Let us follow up the shot."

They listened, but no more shots followed, and then they went on, over a
stretch which was comparatively smooth and free from brushwood. But
though they covered a quarter of a mile they saw nothing either of the
river or of their lost companions.

"We're getting lost more than ever," groaned Sam. "I declare I haven't
the least idea where we are."

"I'm going to fire another shot," answered his brother, and proceeded to
do so.

Both listened with strained ears, and soon an answering shot came back,
slightly to the left of the path they had been pursuing.

"Thank fortune, we are getting closer!" cried Sam. "Come on!"

As worn out as they were, they resumed the dragging of the sled through
the snow. Once Sam had suggested they abandon the load, but Tom would
not hear of this, for he knew they could not very well do without this
portion of the outfit.

The wind was blowing heavily, and high overhead they heard the tree-tops
creak ominously. Once in a while a tree branch would unload itself,
sending down a great mass of snow on their heads. But they pushed on,
determined to rest no more until the others of the party should be
sighted.