A TREE THAT BORE STRANGE FRUIT

"Max—Obed, we've got something!" almost shrieked Steve, as he now tumbled out of his odd bunk very much after the fashion of a dislodged log, landing with a bump on the floor.

And Steve was not alone in his circus stunt, for several other fellows were making a hasty and undignified exit at the same time, Bandy-legs and Toby Jucklin, for instance. Max somehow managed to get on his feet without so much scrambling; and as for Obed, as he had been sleeping on the cot closer to the fire, they could already see him hastily pulling on some clothes.

"Get dressed, and in a hurry!" cried Max, suiting his actions to the words.

"Oh! listen to him whoop it up, will you?" exclaimed Bandy-legs, as those loud calls still smote the night air, and in a way that covered the whole gamut of human utterance.

Toby wanted to say something, too, but though his jaws worked, no audible sound came forth to explain the agitated state of his mind. They had luckily prepared for such a sudden call, and had their outer clothes handy, so that in an incredibly brief space of time all of the boys managed to get something on.

Then Steve snatched up his Marlin gun. Obed had already done the same with his rifle, so that when the latter flung wide the door and they trooped forth, they were in a condition to do battle if necessary, and at least strike terror into the heart of any skulking marauder.

Max, wise general that he was, had thought of something very essential to their success. This was nothing more or less than a lantern. They had been thoughtful enough to fetch one along, a clever little contraption that took only a small amount of room, and yet afforded considerable light. Besides, Obed possessed a lantern of the ordinary type, together with a plentiful supply of oil, looking to the long winter evenings when he might want to read in order to pass away some of the spare time, that promised to drag heavily on his hands.

So they poured forth. The cries still continued, and as vociferous as ever. Indeed, if anything, there was a wilder strain to them now, as though the fellow who gave utterance to the shouts might be getting sorely alarmed at his strange condition, and feared the worst.

There was no trouble about deciding which way to go. Even if they did not have Obed to serve as guide, and pilot the expedition, they could easily have followed the loud notes of alarm.

Everybody was more or less excited, from Obed down to Max himself, and small wonder when the fact of their being aroused in the dead of the night by this fierce racket is taken into consideration.

Hastening in this manner toward the spot where the first trap had been set, they speedily discovered that the overhanging tree bore strange fruit. Something grotesque was swinging violently back and forth. It was a human figure, but hardly recognizable as such, on account of the fact that it now hung head downward, with one leg firmly gripped by the tenacious slip-noose, and the other, together with a pair of wildly flung arms, cutting all sorts of eccentric circles through the air.

Never in all their varied experiences had Max and his three comrades looked on a more remarkable spectacle than the one by which they were now greeted. The man's face could not be plainly seen on account of his coat sagging down partly over his head, so they could not immediately tell what he looked like; but he certainly possessed a bull-like voice that, properly trained for opera use might have won him a fair amount of fame and money, for it was more than usually lusty.

He seemed to divine the fact that those in the cabin must have rushed out in answer to his shouts. Perhaps he detected the light they carried with them; or it might be Steve's loud cries caught his strained hearing at such times as his own breath temporarily failed him.

"Help me, somebody, why don't yuh? I'm strangling to death, I tell yuh. All the blood's running to my head! I'm seeing a million stars already, and I'll die if yuh don't cut me down. Hurry! hurry, please do, somebody!"

Obed looked to Max to say what ought to be done, for already he seemed to have come under the magical sway of the other's leadership.

"Take hold of him, and tie his hands behind his back before you think to let him down!" was the sensible advice given by Max.

Thereupon Obed instantly produced some heavy cord and started operations. While the boy deftly worked, the man continued to plead, trying to claw at him also; but Obed managed to get his job completed notwithstanding the interruptions. He was at the same time telling the unfortunate man to keep quiet, and he would be let down presently.

Steve stood by, gun in hand. He was casting uneasy looks around as though suspecting that if the fellow had companions near by, as seemed likely, and they should, recovering from, their alarm attempt his rescue, it might be his duty to stand them off one and collectively.

Bandy-legs and Toby sprang to where the man dangled. Max was already at the side of Obed.

"All ready, Obed?" he was heard to say.

"I've spliced his hands up in good style, Max," came the reply.

"Good enough. Now, Toby and Bandy-legs, take hold of him, and lift when I give you the word. I'll slip the rope off his ankle, and you turn him right side up. Now, go to it, both of you—yo-heave-o!"

It was quickly done, and the man, upon finding himself placed once more on his feet, staggered; indeed, he was so "groggy" after his recent strange experience at swimming in thin air, that only for the supporting arm of Max he would have fallen flat.

The latter allowed him to stagger backward until he leaned against the body of the tree under which the novel man-trap had been arranged. He was breathing hard, but seemed to be recovering from his panic; at least his cries had utterly ceased, which was one good thing.

So Max flashed the light into his face, while Obed leaned forward and eagerly stared hard at him. They saw rough lineaments, seamed and hardened by exposure to the elements; but of course the face was that of an utter stranger to Max. As for Obed, he was heard to give a sigh of disappointment, as though he too had failed to recognize any one whom he had reason to know.

The man by now seemed to have recovered in part. He was looking at the boys in a peculiar way; Max could not decide on the spur of the moment whether it was wonder or shrewdness that he saw there as the predominant trait of the man's features. But at any rate, since he had recovered his breath to some extent, he should be capable of speaking, and explaining how it came about he found himself in such a predicament.

"Well, who are you, anyway?" demanded Max, throwing as much sternness into his voice as he could. "Give an account of yourself, and tell us why you were creeping about here like a thief in the night?"

"What! me a thief?" shrilled the man, as though, again excited by the very idea of such a base accusation; "I never had that name, young feller. Them that knows Jake Storms say he's an honest man, if ever there was one. I'm only a guide, and a trapper, but nobody ever yet caught me thievin' or poachin', I'd have yuh know."

"Where's your home, Jake Storms?" continued Max.

"If yuh mean whar do I hang out, it's this way," explained the other. "Last summer I was up at Paul Smith's place, workin' for the hotel. I heard some tall stories about the country around old Mount Tom, how full of fur animals it was, and so I made up my mind to spend the winter hereabouts. I built me a cabin away up on the other side of the mountain, and was agoin' to start settin' my traps when I got word that a gentleman wanted me to come down to Lathrop and git him. Yuh see, his doctor advised that he spend the winter in the mountains, and he thought of me, beca'se we'd been in the woods a heap of times in past years. So I was headin' for Lathrop by a trail I'd run across that took around the mountain, and meanin' to keep on as long as I could durin' the night, when all at once something flew up and hit me ker-slap! Say, I thought it was an earthquake, sure I did. And then I found myself hangin' upside down, with all the blood runnin' into my head. What's it mean, young fellers; I give yuh my word I don't get the hang o' it at all."

Max was not surprised to hear the man speak in this fashion. He had already made up his mind, after that one good look at the other's face, the prisoner of the barrel trap was a pretty "slick article," as Steve would have expressed it. And caught in the act, as he had been, it was to be expected that the fellow would have some kind of reasonable story to spin, in order to explain his presence there.

All the same, Max did not give the yarn the least credence. Something told him the other was deliberately lying, and the fluency with which he delivered that remarkable story announced the self-named Jake Storms an accomplished fakir, if ever there was one.

So Max, while not wishing to deliberately tell the man to his face that he was a prevaricator, set about catching him in a little trap. The others had also heard the explanation given, and were listening, with puzzled looks on their faces; at least Bandy-legs and Steve and Toby were, but Obed was shaking his head energetically, as though he put no faith in fairy tales; especially when coming from such unworthy lips.

"You said you were all alone, didn't you?" demanded Max.

"Why, yes, 'course I was," spluttered the other, uneasily eying the speaker, who was holding his light so that it shone directly on Jake's still flushed face.

"Then what did you shout so loud for, if you didn't expect any one to come to your assistance?" continued Max.

"Oh! say, yuh see, 'course I knowed thar was somebody around. I'd just discovered signs of a camp, and sniffed smoke. But before I had half a chance to make out what it meant, why something grabbed me by the leg, and threw me up like I was agoin' over the treetops. Who wouldn't a yelled, tell me? I own up I was rattled like everything. Anybody would be, wouldn't they? I couldn't understand it all; and right now I'm still agropin' in the dark. What struck me, and why does ye set such traps in the trail over on this side o' Mount Tom? Ain't the woods free for anybody to walk in? What have I ever done to any o' yuh to be treated like this, and have my head nigh jerked from my body. Tell me that, sonny?"

Max did not answer his question. While the explanation might seem to be fairly plausible, he felt positive the man was telling a downright lie; and Max believed he knew an easy way to prove it.

"Watch him, Obed, Steve!" he said to those who were alongside.

"Never fear about that, Max," snapped out Steve; "I've got him covered with my gun, and if he tries any slick game his name will be Dennis, and not Jake. Hear that, Mr. Fur Thief, do you? Well, mind how you tempt me to let fly with a charge of birdshot. I've got a quick temper, and a quicker finger in the bargain; so settle back where you are."

The man muttered between his set teeth. He was evidently feeling far from comfortable, because something told him these wideawake lads would not be so easily hoodwinked as he had fancied.

He was watching the movements of Max Hastings, who had dropped to his hands and knees, and seemed to be holding his little lantern so that the light would show him the nature of the ground. Truth to tell, Max and Obed, when last at the trap, had taken the pains to smooth the ground over, thus obliterating all previous footprints. This was done from a double object; it would conceal the fact that work had been carried on in that particular spot, in case sharp eyes were on the alert; and also gave a clear field for observation, as was happening just then.

Max quickly found what he was looking for.

"Come here, Obed," he remarked, quietly, and as the other eagerly bent over, Max went on to say: "You can see that here's another footprint, and quite different from the one made by his heavier boots. So he did have at least one companion along, perhaps two, for all we know. And that stamps his story a yarn made out of whole cloth. He came here, just as you expected, to rob you of your foxes. Killing them wouldn't have filled the bill so well, unless they made off with the pelts in the bargain. How about it, Obed?"

"Every word you say is true, Max," breathed the other, indignantly.

"Then we'll certainly not let him go free, that's a dead sure proposition," ventured Max, decidedly, and in a voice that he meant should reach the prisoner.

"Glad to hear you settle it that way, boys," remarked Steve, who had kept one eye on the prisoner and the other in the direction of his mates. "Shall I march him over to the cabin right away?"

Max gave a look around. He wondered where that other man could be just then, and whether he was watching them from some neighboring covert, having by degrees recovered from the near panic into which he had been thrown at the time his companion was snatched away from his side so mysteriously, amidst a tremendous din, caused by the shouts of the seized man, and the rattling of the stones inside the rolling barrel.

But he could see nothing. The little lantern only covered a certain amount of space with its meagre illumination, and much that was evil might lurk beyond the radius of its lighted circle.

"Yes, we'll change our base, and go back to the cabin," Max said aloud; "keep the guns ready for business, and if an attack is made shoot straight!"

Of course this admonition was delivered in a loud tone, mostly to warn the unseen party, who might be hovering near; but both gun-bearers gave evidence of meaning to profit by the advice.