"Did he give you ten dollars more?" exclaimed Dan.

"Not ten dollars more, for this is the first he has given me. You and father got what I ought to have had."

"An' you never spent none on it, did you? I seen Silas shove it back to you."

"Yes, I've got it safe in my pocket. I'm going to keep it, too."

"Wal, I'll bet a hoss you don't," was Dan's mental reflection. "I'd oughter have some on it, an' if you don't give it to me without my axin' you, I'll have it all. I'm the man of the house now, an' it's the properest thing that I should have the handlin' of all the money that comes in."

Of course Dan was much too smart to say this aloud. He knew that any threats from him would put his brother on his guard, and then he might whistle for the ten dollars. He said no more, and the two walked along in silence until they came to General Gordon's barn.

Just as David was going into it, he met Lester Brigham riding out of it. Lester scowled down at him, but David did not scowl back. He was quite willing to forget that they had ever had any difficulty and to be friendly with Lester, if the latter wanted him to be. It is probable, however, that he would have had different feelings, if he had known what it was that brought Lester over to Don's house.

David, as we have said, turned into the barn, and Dan, who had more than his share of curiosity, would have given almost anything he possessed to know what business he had there; but he could not go in to see, for he dared not face Don and Bert after what he had done, so he kept on toward home.

David deposited his basket and bundles on the steps that led to the loft, and making his way around the north wing of the house, knocked at the door, which was presently opened by Bert. David asked if Don was in, and receiving an affirmative reply, was ushered into the library, where his friend, wearied with his day's exercise, was taking his ease on the sofa, which had been drawn up in front of a cheerful wood fire. David declined to accept the chair which Bert placed for him, and opened his business at once.

"Don," said he, "would you be willing to take that money you gave me and keep it until I call for it?"

"Of course I would," replied Don, readily. "You haven't paid that grocery bill, then? Well, I wouldn't either. You are not responsible for it."

"I offered to pay it, but Mr. Jones wouldn't take the money. He says my credit is good for six months."

"Why, what has come over him all of a sudden?" said Don, who did not know that his father had had an interview with Silas that very day.

"I wish I knew. There's the money, and you won't let anybody have it, except mother or me, will you?"

"You may be sure that I will take good care of it this time. Don't forget that bear hunt, tomorrow."

"No. I'll be on hand bright and early. Good-by."

David hurried out, and picking up the basket and bundles he had left in the barn, started for home. When he got there, he was surprised to see that Dan was at work. He had pulled off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and with a frow and mallet in his hands, was busy splitting out shingles. David said nothing to him, but went into the house to put away the tea, coffee and sugar and place the articles he had bought for his mother in a conspicuous position, so that she would be sure to see them, the moment she entered the door. While he was thus engaged, Dan came in smiling, and trying to look good-natured. David was on his guard at once.

"I'll tell you what I've made up my mind to do by you, Davy," said Dan, "an' when you hear what it is, if you don't say I'm the best brother you ever had, I want to know what's the reason why. I ain't goin' agin you like I told you I was."

"I am very glad to hear it," said David.

"No, I ain't. I'm goin' to be pardners with you, an' I'm goin' to give you half the money we make outen them quail. I'll give you half what I've got hid away, too."

"I have no claim upon that," replied David. "It belongs to Don Gordon, and if you are honest you'll give him every cent of it."

"I can't do it," said Dan. "Kase why, I give pap three an' a half of it, an' spent six bits myself."

"Then give him what you have, and tell him that you will hand him the rest as soon as you can earn it."

"Not by no means, I won't," said Dan, quickly. "Ten dollars ain't nothing to him."

"That makes no difference. It is his, and he ought to have it."

"Wal, I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll pay him outen them fifty dollars we're goin' to get fur them quail. An', Davy, if you'll give me the money you've got in your pocket, I'll hide it with mine whar n.o.body can't find it, and then it'll be safe."

"It is safe now."

"But if I go halves with you, you had oughter go halves with me.

Let's go out to them traps agin, and we kin talk it over while we're workin'."

"I am not going to do anything more with those traps."

"You hain't give it up, have you? You ain't goin' to let them fifty dollars slip through your fingers, be you?"

"What encouragement have I to do anything after what you said this morning? I have made other arrangements. I am going to work over at the General's."

David expected that his brother would be very angry when he heard this, but if he was, he did not show it. He looked steadily at David for a moment and then turned and walked around the corner of the cabin out of sight.

CHAPTER VI.

BRUIN'S ISLAND.

"That's a purty way he's got of doin' business, I do think. He's a trifle the meanest feller I ever seed, Dave is, an' if I don't pay him fur it afore he's a great many weeks older, I'll just play myself out a tryin'. If me an' him works together we kin get them fifty dollars as easy as fallin' off a log; but he can't arn 'em by hisself, an' he shan't, nuther."

This was the way Dan Evans talked to himself, as he trudged through the woods with his rifle on his shoulder, after his unsuccessful attempt to overhear what pa.s.sed between his brother and Don and Bert Gordon; or, rather, after his failure to find out what it was that brought Don and Bert to the cabin. He _did_ overhear what pa.s.sed between them, but he did not learn anything by it. Of course that made him angry. A good many things had happened that day to make him angry, and he had gone off in the woods by himself to think and plan vengeance.

"Bein' the man of the house I've got more right to them fifty dollars nor Dave has," thought Dan, "an' if he don't give me half of 'em, he shan't see a cent of 'em hisself. Wouldn't I look nice loafin' around in these yere clothes while Dave was dressed up like a gentleman an'

takin' his ease? I'll bust up them traps of his'n faster'n he kin make 'em. I'll show him that I'm the boss of this house now that pap's away, no matter if them Gordon fellers is a backin' on him up.

I've larned a heap by listenin'. I heard Dave tell the ole woman that he's goin' to make three dollars a dozen outen them quail. I didn't larn nothing this arternoon, howsomever. Them fellers must a seed me lookin' through the cracks, kase they didn't tell him what they was agoin' to tell him when they fust come up to the fence."

Dan walked about for an hour or more, talking in this way to himself.

The squirrels frisked and barked all around him, but he did not seem to hear them. He was so busy thinking over his troubles that he scarcely knew where he was going, until at last he found himself standing on the banks of a sluggish bayou that ran through the swamp.

The stream was wide and deep, and near the middle of it and opposite the spot where Dan stood, was a little island thickly covered with briers and cane. It was known among the settlers as Bruin's Island.

Dan knew the place well. Many a fine string of goggle-eyes had he caught at the foot of the huge sycamore which grew at the lower end of the island, and leaned over the water until its long branches almost touched the trees on the main sh.o.r.e, and it was here that he had trapped his first beaver. More than that, the island had been a place of refuge for his father during the war. He retreated to it on the night the levee was blown up by the Union soldiers, and spent the most of his time there until all danger of capture was past.

When Dan appeared upon the bank of the bayou a dark object, which was crouching at the water's edge near the foot of the sycamore, suddenly sprang up and glided into the bushes out of sight. Its movements were quick and noiseless, but still they did not escape the notice of Dan, who dropped on the instant and hid behind a fallen log that happened to be close at hand. He did not have time to take a good look at the object, but he saw enough of it to frighten him thoroughly. He thrust his c.o.c.ked rifle cautiously over the log, directing the muzzle toward the sycamore, but his hand was unsteady and his face was as white as a sheet.

"Looked to me like a man," thought Dan, trembling in every limb, "but in course it couldn't be; so it's one of them haunts what lives in the General's lane."

Dan kept his gaze directed across the bayou, and could scarcely restrain himself from jumping up and taking to his heels when he saw a head, covered with a torn and faded hat, raised slowly and cautiously above the leaning trunk of the sycamore. It remained motionless for a moment and Dan's eyes were sharp enough to see that there was a face below the hat--a tanned and weather-beaten face, the lower portion of which was concealed by thick, bushy whiskers. As Dan looked his eyes began to dilate, his mouth came open, and the b.u.t.t of his rifle was gradually lowered until the muzzle pointed toward the clouds. He was sure he saw something familiar about the face, but the sight of it was most unexpected, and so was the sound of the voice which reached his ears a moment later.

"Dannie!" came the hail, in subdued tones, as if the speaker were afraid of being overheard by some one besides the boy whom he was addressing.

"Pap!" cried Dan.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dan Recognizes his Father.]

As he spoke he arose from his concealment, and the man on the other side of the bayou--Dan was pretty certain now that it was a man--stepped out into view, disclosing the well-known form and features of G.o.dfrey Evans. Dan could hardly believe his eyes, and even G.o.dfrey seemed a little doubtful.