er, reckon ye had better
look into the shack and see what's there."

The bully did as requested. On seeing Jasper Grinder, he started back.

"Grinder!"

"Who calls?" asked the wounded man, and opened his eyes. "So it is you,
Dan Baxter. What do you want?"

"What did you desert us for, Grinder?"

"I didn't desert you. I got lost, and they found me, half starved and
frozen. Now I am wounded. Are you in possession of this camp? Where are
the Rovers?"

"Sam is here. I don't know anything about the others. Have they found
that treasure yet?"

"No. They went off to look for it." Jasper Grinder tried to go on, but
fell back exhausted and could say no more.

"Here's a queer go!" muttered the former bully of Putnam Hall. "I
suppose they shot Grinder. If they did, they ought to suffer for it. I
guess--Hullo, what's up out there?"

A scuffle outside of the shelter had reached his ears. Bill Harney had
been standing close to some firewood, and without warning Sam had rushed
at the big guide and sent him sprawling backward.

"Hi! stop him!" yelled the guide, as he started to struggle to his feet.
But before he could get up, Sam had taken time by the forelock and
disappeared into the timber skirting the pond.

CHAPTER XXX.

A SUCCESSFUL SEARCH--CONCLUSION.

When Sam escaped from big Bill Harney he had but one purpose in view,
and that was to reach Dick and the others just as soon as possible and
acquaint them with the turn affairs had taken.

He had a fairly good idea of the direction the others had taken, and
knew that their tracks in the snow would be plain to follow. The main
thing at the start was to keep out of sight of the enemy.

In doing this, he had not only to avoid Harney and Baxter, but also
Husty, providing that individual was anywhere around, which was
probable. Consequently, although he traveled as fast as the deep snow
permitted, he kept a sharp lookout on every side.

The youth soon circled the lower shore of Bear Pond, and he found the
trail he was seeking. It led directly to the westward, and he followed
it up, almost on a run.

In the meantime Dick, Tom, and John Barrow had journeyed to the third
outlet of the lake, the stream which the guide thought must be the
original of Perch River. Here, after a good deal of trouble, the party
located what looked like the stump of a tree once struck by lightning.

"We've found it at last!" cried Dick. "I feel it in my bones that we are
on the r