During the progress of their conversation I learned, for the first time, what had become of the rods and reels that Matt stole from Joe and his party in Sherwin’s pond. Jake, who acted as his father’s agent, had sold them to Mr. Hanson, the landlord of the Sportsman’s Home, for four dollars apiece—all except the one belonging to Arthur Hastings, which Jake affirmed had been broken by a black bass. For that he received two dollars. I learned, further, that Matt had failed again in his efforts to find employment as guide for the Indian Lake country. The hotels would not hire him, and neither would the guests to whom he offered his services. This left Matt but one resource, and that was to carry out his oft-repeated threat that if he couldn’t act as guide about that lake nobody should. He had already robbed three camps, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that by doing it he had created great consternation among the summer visitors. The ladies protested that they could never think of going into the woods again as long as that horrid man was about, and the sportsmen who had suffered at his hands told their landlords very plainly that they would not come near Indian Lake again until they were assured that Matt Coyle had been arrested and lodged in jail.
“They’re afeared of me, them folks up there to the lake be,” chuckled the squatter, who was highly elated over the success of the plan he had adopted for ruining the hotels and breaking up the business of guiding. “I would have worked hard an’ faithful for ’em if they had give me a chance to make an honest livin’; but they wouldn’t do it, ’cause I didn’t have no good clothes to wear, an’ now they see what they have gained by their meanness. I won’t be starved to death, an’ that’s jest all there is about it.”
“Say, pap, what be you goin’ to do with them two fine guns that’s hid up there in the bresh?” inquired Sam.
“I ain’t a-goin’ to do nothin’ with ’em,” was the reply.
“Now jest listen at the blockhead!” Matt almost shouted. “Ain’t you got sense enough to know that if a guide should happen to ketch you runnin’ about the woods with one of them guns in your hands you would be ’rested an’ locked up for a thief? I didn’t take them guns ’cause I wanted ’em, but jest to drive them city sportsmen away from here. They ain’t goin’ to bring fine things into these woods when they know that they stand a chance of losin’ ’em. An’ if there ain’t no guests to come here, what’s the guides an’ landlords goin’ to do to make a livin’?”