“I’ll go,” said Jake to himself, “an’ it’ll be the last arrant I go on for one while, I bet you. What’s the use of me goin’ over on t’other side of the lake, when the men I want to see is on this side? I’ll go, but I won’t never come back. Pap ain’t goin’ to find that money, an’ he ain’t goin’ to give me another lickin’ like he done to-day, nuther.”
If Matt could have seen and interpreted the expression that Jake’s face wore as he crawled away in obedience to this order, he might have called him back and gone himself or sent Sam; but he was too busy filling his pipe to notice the boy, and besides it had never occurred to him that he could drive any of his family to rebellion. But he had done it, for Jake never came back to him. He seized the blanket when he found it, threw it over his shoulder, and struck out for Indian Lake.
“He can go hungry for all I care,” muttered Jake, halting now and then and looking back to make sure he was not pursued. “He’ll go hungry many a time this winter, if the law don’t catch him, for that lazy Sam of our’n wouldn’t dare show his head out of camp after dark; so who’s goin’ to steal grub for him to eat?”
Having determined upon this course, Jake held to it with surprising resolution, and his father and his brother waited long for his coming. At last Matt became angry at his unaccountable absence, but he never once suspected Jake’s fidelity.
“Mebbe he’s gone an’ got himself ketched by them fellers,” suggested Sam.
“More likely he’s gone an’ lost himself or missed the place where I left the blanket,” growled the squatter. “I do think we’d best be lookin’ into the matter.”
“Well, go on, an’ I’ll stay here till you come back,” said Sam, with suppressed eagerness.
“I don’t reckon that would be the best plan in the world,” answered Matt, who was not to be taken in by any such artifice. “Do you, Sammy?”
“I don’t think that would be the best thing either, ’cause if you went alone them fellers might jump outen their camp an’ ketch you. We’ll both go, an’ then they can’t harm us, an’ we won’t get lost, nuther.”
Sam was well enough acquainted with his father to know that the latter had had his suspicions aroused in some mysterious way, and he had suddenly hit upon a plan to outwit him. If he could separate himself from Matt for just five minutes he would put for the outlet at his best pace, induce one of the resident vagabonds to set him across, and then he would secure his treasure and go somewhere—anywhere—so long as he could hold fast to the money and be out of his father’s reach. Perhaps, on reflection, he might decide to give it up and claim the reward; but that was a matter that could be settled at some future time. Did the squatter suspect this little game? Whether he did or not he nipped it in the bud by giving Sam to understand that wherever one went the other would go also, and that there was to be no separation.