Jerry's heart beat like a trip-hammer. His breath came short and fast.

He was first inclined to waken his companions, but he fought the inclination down. He listened for a long time after the sounds had died away. Then an inspiration flashed suddenly into his mind.

"What a fool I was to be scared," he reflected. "I'll bet anything that old trapper was spying around here, trying to find out what mysteries are going on. I'm sorry now that I didn't shout at him. By this time he must have started back to his camp. If I could only escape! How easy it would be to follow his tracks over the snow! I'm sure he would help me to get Brick free."

As Jerry thus cogitated, he saw some object sparkling in the moonlight on the cabin floor. It was about half-way between him and the table. He looked keenly and now he discovered that the object was a knife.

A daring thought came into Jerry's head. A glance satisfied him that his four bedfellows were still sleeping. With a slow and noiseless motion, he crawled forward on his knees. From time to time he glanced warily over his shoulder. Finally his perseverance was rewarded.

He reached the knife. He leaned over upon it backward and managed to get the hilt between the partly-cramped fingers of one hand. With a clumsy, sawing movement, he sc.r.a.ped the blade over the rope that held his arms together. He was far from certain of success, but he stuck to the task with grim determination. More than once the blade slipped and cut into his wrists and fingers.

At last, when he was on the verge of despair, a sudden snap told him that the rope was severed. He drew his arms in front of him, and cut loose the separate pieces of rope.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

DRIVEN TO DEATH.

The first step to freedom was a success, and consequently Jerry felt greatly elated. He hesitated a moment, slightly bewildered by several expedients that suggested themselves to his mind. Then he picked up the knife and crawled noiselessly back across the floor.

He safely reached his sleeping place, and threw himself down in his former att.i.tude. He lay perfectly still for nearly five minutes. Then he was satisfied that Bogle and Sparwick were buried deep in slumber. He turned around and gave Hamp a gentle shake. The lad stirred and sleepily opened his eyes.

"Hamp, are you awake?" Jerry whispered, softly, in his ear.

"Yes; what's up?" came the drowsy reply.

"Hush! don't talk so loud. I'll do the talking. Are you sure you're wide awake and can understand me?"

"Of course I am," whispered Hamp, a little impatiently.

Then he saw that Jerry's arms were free.

"You are in luck," he added. "Are you going to escape?"

"Yes; and I want you to go with me," Jerry replied, putting his mouth close to Hamp's ear. "I haven't time to explain now, only I found a knife and cut my arms loose. Turn yours this way a little bit." Hamp obeyed, and Jerry deftly severed the ropes.

"Now lie still until you see me open the door," he resumed. "That will be the signal. Then jump and sneak out after me. I want to get our caps and snowshoes first."

"Are you going to take Brick along?" Hamp asked.

"No; I wish we could. He is chained fast to Bogle. I wouldn't dare to try. But if we get away all right, Brick won't be a prisoner long. That old trapper was prowling around here to-night. We'll strike right for his camp. The tracks will help us to find it. You understand what you are to do now?"

"Yes; I'll be ready."

"Watch for the door to open," Jerry added. "Lie still, and don't make a sound. Better keep your arms under you, in case Sparwick should get awake. If he does, give a little cough."

"All right," whispered Hamp.

Having thus taken all possible precautions against failure, Jerry once more crawled noiselessly away from the bed.

When he was half way across the room, he ventured to rise to his feet.

Then, bending low, he moved to and fro in search of what he wanted. He found the snowshoes and the caps without any trouble. He softly opened the cupboard and put some crackers and cold meat in his pocket.

He wanted a rifle badly, but they all rested on one pair of hooks, and he was afraid that he could not get one down without making a racket.

So he reluctantly concluded to do without.

Jerry softly crossed to the door. He undid the fastenings and pulled it half-way open. He stopped on the threshold and looked back into the room. It was a moment of thrilling suspense. He saw Hamp rise slowly to his feet and take a step forward.

Then, like a flash, Sparwick's tall figure towered over the lad. There was a scuffle and a heavy fall. Two hoa.r.s.e cries blended into one.

Jerry stood as one petrified. He heard Sparwick calling l.u.s.tily for Bogle. He saw the latter spring to his feet, dragging Brick after him.

Then Hamp's voice rang sharp and clear, in tones of entreaty:

"Run, Jerry! run! I'll hold him as long as I can."

This broke the spell. Jerry knew that Hamp was beyond hope of rescue. He dropped the latter's snowshoes, but held on to his own. He dashed over the threshold and into the moonlit clearing.

There was no time to look for the trapper's tracks. He remembered his saying to Bogle that his camp lay north of the swamp. Luckily Jerry had his bearings, and knew what direction to take.

He sped around the end of the cabin and plunged into the thicket. As he ran on and on, the tumult behind him faded away. The recent cold snap had formed a crust on the snow, and he made pretty good progress. Now and then, however, he struck weak spots and broke through to his knees.

At the end of half-an-hour he ventured to stop. He seated himself on a log and strapped his snowshoes on securely. He was conscious of a feeling of elation. Not a sound could be heard but the rustle of the wind.

"I don't believe they know which direction I took," he reflected.

"Anyway, I have a good start, and I mean to keep it. Once I find Mowry's camp, I will be all right. I can't afford to lose any time, so here goes."

He struck off again at a swinging gait. The snowshoes made traveling a delightful task. The moonlight was a great help to him. It shone into the gloomy recesses of the swamp.

At the end of two hours he pa.s.sed from the confines of the swamp into a fragrant pine forest. There was a steep hill some distance in front of him. He might have gone to right or left, but he was not sure that he had kept unswervingly to the north since he fled from the cabin.

Jerry vaguely feared that he had lost his bearings It occurred to him that from high ground he might put himself right, or catch a flickering gleam of Mowry's campfire. So he toiled up the hill, never noting that his snowshoes left a plain imprint with every step. He gained a ridge and pushed along it for some distance.

But the undergrowth and timber were heavy, and he could not see far beyond them. He suddenly discovered that he was exhausted and worn out.

He thought of climbing a tree to obtain an un.o.bstructed view, but the effort seemed too great. He sat down on a snow-covered bowlder to rest.

He was in a glow of heat and perspiration, and did not feel the cold.

The silvery moonlight streamed upon an open glade in front of him.

The time sped by more quickly than Jerry knew. The keen, biting air roused him from a train of thought. He concluded to push on. He rose to his feet and stood debating which way to turn.

Before he could decide, a crashing noise in the bushes behind him sent a cold chill through his blood. He ran forward half-a-dozen yards and then turned his head. He was horrified to see Kyle Sparwick emerge from the bushes. The ruffian had a rifle in his hands. He drew it to his shoulder and took aim at Jerry.

"Stop right thar," he cried. "The game is up, lad. I've got you."

But Jerry did not stop. He melted away before Sparwick's indignant eyes. In other words, he dodged behind the trunk of a convenient tree.

Thence he gained the cover of thick bushes, and made a spurt over the ridge.

No shot followed him. Indeed, Sparwick had not intended to shoot. His object was to capture the lad. He uttered a yell of anger and started in pursuit. His quick, loping gait soon brought him in sight of Jerry.