"Shoot him! Shoot him!" came from Fred excitedly.

"Plug him quick!" added Andy.

None of those who had followed Jack and Spouter were armed, so the fight rested entirely upon the shoulders of that pair. Circling around so as to avoid the others, Jack pulled the trigger and fired. The wildcat began flipping and flopping on the snow, badly wounded. Then Spouter discharged his firearm once more, and after this the creature lay quiet where it dropped.

"Is--is he dead?" questioned Fred, who was the first to speak. The youngest Rover was very much excited, and with good cause.

"Wait! Don't go forward!" ordered Jack, as he stepped back a few paces.

"He may be playing possum. Anyway, we had better load our guns first,"

he added to Spouter.

This advice to load immediately after discharging a weapon was one which had been well drilled into the cadets, and so now the pair lost no time in putting new charges into their weapons. Then they approached with caution, and Jack turned the wildcat over with the barrel of the gun, keeping his hand meanwhile on the trigger ready for action.

But the beast was quite dead, the charges from the two guns having gone completely through its body.

"What are you going to do with the carca.s.s?" questioned Randy, after all had made an inspection.

"Might as well leave it here," declared Fred. "It isn't good for anything. Even the skin is all torn from the shot."

"No, we might as well take it along. We can hang it on the back of the boxsled," said Gif. "Perhaps we can use the meat to trap some other wild animals."

A strap which one of the boys happened to carry was fastened around the neck of the wildcat, and then they carried it from the spring to where they had left the boxsled. The excitement for the time being had caused all of the cadets to forget how late it was and how cold and windy it was growing. But now, when they were once more ready to drive off, several of them began to shiver.

"It's going to be mighty cold before morning," announced Randy.

"Yes, and I wish we were at that bungalow in front of a good log fire,"

added Andy.

"Now that we've discovered that wasn't the road, which way do you propose to go, Gif?" questioned Jack.

"We won't count that as a road, and we'll take the other one on the right," was the reply. "I don't know of anything else to do," Gif added, somewhat helplessly.

None of the others could give advice, for the reason that this territory was entirely new to them. Even Spouter, who had visited the woods a number of times, had never been in that vicinity.

Onward they went once more, up a gentle hill and then down the slope on the other side. At the foot of the hill the road became rougher and rougher, and presently the horses had all they could do to make any progress.

"Gif, this can't be the right road," declared Jack at last. "If it was as rough as this, Jed Wallop would have told us about it. He said we wouldn't have any trouble at all in reaching Cedar Lodge."

"Yes, and besides, we must have come at least five or six miles," added Spouter.

"I'll bet we've come all of eight miles," broke in Fred.

"That's just what I think," declared Randy. "I'll bet an elephant against a mouse we're on the wrong road."

"Well, I won't dispute that, Randy," answered the young driver of the boxsled. "But you'll all bear witness to it that I followed directions and kept to the right."

The road now ran along the side of a hill. Here the heavy fall of snow had slid down over the rocks and the going was anything but safe. The faithful old horses had all they could do to keep their footing.

"We'll upset the first thing you know!" exclaimed Fred, and he had scarcely spoken when the runner on the up side of the road struck a series of rocks, and the next minute all of the boys, including Gif, went tumbling from the boxsled, and some of their provisions followed.

"Whoa there! Whoa there, Mary and John!" called Gif to the team. But this command was not needed, for the tired old horses were only too glad to stop, and had come to a halt the moment the youths tumbled off.

All had landed in the snow, which at this point was rather deep; so none of them was seriously hurt, although somebody stepped on one of Randy's hands and Spouter got a scratch on his ear from some nearby bushes.

"Well, here's a mess!" exclaimed Fred, as he picked himself up. "Now we are in a pickle."

"Oh, it might have been worse," declared Jack, as cheerfully as he could, because he could easily see that Gif was in a state of mind bordering on desperation. "n.o.body is seriously hurt, I hope?"

All scrambled up, and then looked at the roadway immediately ahead. Here was a somewhat level spot, and to this the sled was driven, and the lads picked up the stuff which had fallen off in the snow and replaced it, this time tying it down with some ropes and straps which were handy.

"I don't believe I'll drive any further on this road," said Gif. "It doesn't seem to lead to anywhere, and I'm quite certain now that it isn't the way to Cedar Lodge."

"What will you do?" asked Andy. "Go back to that other road?"

Everybody was stumped, and for several seconds n.o.body made any reply.

"Might as well go back," said Spouter.

Fred and Randy walked on ahead, trying to determine where the road led to. But all they could see was the blackness of the forest, and the roadway seemed to grow rougher and more perilous at every step.

It was no easy task to turn the team and the boxsled around without spilling everything again. But it was accomplished at last, and then slowly and painfully they climbed along the hill until they reached the point where there had been another split in the road. Here they came to a halt.

"Listen!" cried Randy suddenly.

All did as requested, and from a distance heard the low musical jingle of sleigh bells.

"There's a sleigh!" exclaimed Gif. "And unless I'm mistaken, it's coming this way!"

They listened again, and were overjoyed to note that the sounds were gradually coming nearer. Then they stepped out behind the boxsled, and presently discerned a large two-seated sleigh, drawn by a powerful pair of horses, approaching.

The steeds were making good time, despite the roughness of the road and the depth of the snow.

"Hi there! Hi there!" called out Gif, and then Jack sent the rays of his flashlight toward the on-coming turnout.

There were exclamations of astonishment from those in the sleigh, and for a moment it looked to the boys as if the occupants were bent upon pa.s.sing them without paying any attention to their call. But then Gif, Spouter, and Fred took a position directly in front of the on-coming horses, and the driver brought them snortingly to a sudden stop.

"What do you fellows want?" demanded a heavy guttural voice from the sleigh.

The words were uttered in a German accent, and by the look of his face the speaker, who sat on the front seat beside the driver, was evidently of Teutonic origin. He glared suspiciously at those in the roadway, and Jack and Gif afterward declared that they saw the gleam of a pistol in the man's hand as it was thrust in the flap of his overcoat.

"We've lost our way," said Gif, coming a few steps closer. "We thought maybe you folks could direct us."

"Huh! I don't know about that," said the man in his thick German accent.

"Where do you want to go?"

"We want to go to Cedar Lodge. It's located somewhere up here, about five or six miles from Timminsport."

"Cedar Lodge!" said one of the men who were seated on the rear seat of the sleigh. "Do you mean the hunting lodge that is owned by the Garrisons?"