CHAPTER XII THE LODGE AT PINE TREE LAKE "You had better go slow, Dale," whispered Owen, who was close behind his chum. "That man may not belong here and may be a desperate character." "Do you mean he may be a thief?" whispered Dale, in return. "Why not? There must be a good many things of value in this lodge." "I guess they take most of the things away during the winter." "Not everything. Do you see anybody?" "No. But I--hark!" Dale raised his hand, and both became silent. From a room on the other side of the lodge came a murmur of voices. "Did you see anybody around, Ducrot?" "Nobody is near de place," was the answer. "I look around verra good." "It is Baptiste Ducrot!" exclaimed Dale, in a low voice. "I am sure he is here for no good." "Who is with him?" "I don't know, but he isn't a Frenchman." Both young lumbermen left the window and took their way with the horses to a summer-house standing a short distance away. Here their steeds were tied up, out of sight of the lodge. "I am going to investigate this," said Dale. "Did you know Ducrot had left the camp?" "He got leave of absence yesterday," answered Owen. "He was to be back by next Tuesday. I heard him speaking to Mr. Paxton about it." "I'm going to carry my shot-gun," went on Dale, as they moved forward once again in the direction of the lodge. On the opposite side of the building was a mass of shrubbery growing close to several windows. Although there were no leaves on the bushes, the branches were numerous and afforded a fairly good place of concealment. "There is an open window," whispered Owen. "We can hear something from under that." They crawled to the spot he indicated, and listened intently. Two men were in the room beyond--Ducrot and the stranger, a good-for-nothing hunter and trapper named Link Axton, who had been under arrest more than once for killing game out of season. "The caretaker is taken care of," Link Axton was saying. "He won't be back here for two days," and he gave a self-satisfied chuckle. "We take de t'ings away to-morrow mornin' at seex o'clock," came from Baptiste Ducrot. "I haf de boat waitin' at de river an' you geet de wagon. Den we make de big money." And he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "You're a good one, Bap!" laughed Link Axton. "And the folks over to the camp think you are as honest as the day is long, too!" He uttered another chuckle. "Are you going back after this little job is over?" "I go back to geet my money," answered the French-Canadian. "Den I tell Paxton I have de udder job, ha! ha!" "And we'll have a good time over to Sandybay," went on Link Axton. "Is that where you sold that hoss of Larson's?" "Dat de place, Link. But you not say anyt'ing 'bout him some more," said Ducrot, with a warning shake of his finger.