“It must be the half-breed again,” Dick whispered hoarsely. “It’s a good thing we scattered when we did. Anyone near the campfire would make a splendid target.”
He turned and looked back toward the place they had just vacated. A bright glare of firelight cast its reflection through a wide circle of pitchy darkness, producing an eerie effect. The trees looked stark and gaunt at the outer fringe of the circle. The place, which a few moments before had been alive with the human forms of his companions, was now totally deserted.
They waited breathlessly. The commotion, following Toma’s announcement, had died away. Deep and forbidding seemed the solitude of the forest. Dick wondered what had become of the two policemen and Toma. He half expected to hear the disconcerting crack of a revolver. The minutes passed slowly. The snow fell softly now—huge white flakes floating through the air like particles of fluff. Sandy stamped his feet impatiently, then pulled his parka farther down so that it muffled his face.
“If it isn’t one thing, it’s another,” he lamented. “If that half-breed has come back to bother us, he may get more than he has bargained for.”
Dick looked up sharply. A sudden tramping of feet and the crackling of underbrush, warned him of someone’s approach. For a split-second his heart caught with excitement. Was the half-breed himself coming their way? Then his mouth gaped open in amazement. Within the circle of light there appeared abruptly three forms, two of which the boys quickly recognized—Richardson and Rand. They half-carried, half-dragged between them a struggling protesting creature—none other than the half-breed himself!
The boys hurried forward. As they came up to where the policemen and their prisoner stood, they observed that the half-breed’s wrists had been manacled. Over his prominent cheekbone, close to his left eye, was a large welt he had received in his encounter with the guardians of the law. Corporal Rand’s uniform was slightly dishevelled. A button had been torn from his coat. He was bleeding from a cut on one cheek.
“Here’s one of Murky’s friends that won’t give us so much trouble in the future,” Sergeant Richardson stated evenly.
“He’ll not be released this time either,” the corporal said with conviction.