Now, sence we old fellers is a bit troubled with rheumertism s'pose ye shoulder ther bag o'game an' come erlong wid us.

My ole friend Dubois hes got er shack not werry far off, an' we kin hold our hungry feelin's in till we git thar.
Up she goes, boy, an' don't yer dare ter scowl at me like thet again, less ye wanter feel ther toe o' my moccasin.

Wy, I've sliced a feller's ears orf fur less'n thet.

I'm a holy terror wen I'm riled up, ain't I, Dubois ?" said Stackpole.
And this was the man whom they had entertained at their camp and given the best meal of his whole life! Eli made a note of the fact for future reference.
There would perhaps come a day of reckoning, and the account, however long, could be adjusted.
He took up the pack of meat and followed Stackpole, while Dubois walked along a little distance behind.
Perhaps it was accidental, this meeting with the two woodsmen, but Eli doubted it, preferring to believe that they had been watching him ever since he left the camp, with the idea of effecting his capture should the opportunity arise.
With such men this was not a difficult thing to do.
What puzzled him, however, was the trouble they were taking on his account.
If it was simply that coveted gun they wanted, why not turn him adrift after securing possession of the firearm, rather than make a prisoner of him; surely they could not be doing this for the mere sake of compelling him to "tote" the venison to their camp, for that would be slipping up on a point, since he must know where they held out and could carry the information to Cuthbert when released.
Now had it been the young Virginian who was captured, he could readily understand their reason, for Cuthbert had money in abundance, and would pay a round sum to be set at liberty; but who under the sun cared whether he, Eli Perkins, lumber-jack from the Michigan pine woods, were free or a prisoner, living or dead?
And poor Eli was wrestling with these puzzling questions as he trudged wearily after Stackpole; nor did he seem to get any nearer a solution, though approaching the matter from all sides.
Darkness overtook them while they were still tramping through the woods, having covered some miles since leaving the spot where the deer was shot.
And then by degrees Eli began to guess what they had in view in holding him.
It would be only natural for the two worthies to try and hide their trail when thus passing through the woods and bound for the place where according to Stackpole the other had some sort of a dugout or shack.
To the surprise of Eli not only did they fail to take any precautions in this respect but on the contrary actually seemed to leave as plain a trail as possible.
It took Eli some time to understand the meaning of this, and then it broke upon him like a thunderclap--these fellows were laying a trap, and expected Cuthbert to walk into the same just as the fly enters the web of the spider.
Of course in due time Cuthbert and Owen would feel it necessary to look him up, and as the latter was a good trailer they would follow the course now being taken by himself and his captors, follow it until the door of the trap was sprung shut, making them also prisoners.
Eli grunted his disgust when he saw all this spread out before him.
Eli was so utterly helpless to prevent it.
And while he walked he was busying his mind in the endeavor to invent some clever scheme whereby he might get the better of the twin rascals and turn the tables upon them.
But Eli did not possess a very brilliant mind and suggestions came slowly to him; all his life he had been in the habit of allowing some one else do his thinking for him, and when thrown upon his own resources he found it difficult to fully grasp the situation and conjure up any possible remedy.
At the same time he was stubborn by temperament and not given over to despair, no matter how black the circumstances seemed.
Perhaps presently things might take a turn; all he wanted was to keep his eyes about him, and his wits sharpened, so that if the occasion arose he would be in shape to reap the benefit.
Stackpole must have been joking when he said the shack was close by, or else they had purposely made a circuit in their walk, for it was a full hour before they arrived at their destination.
Whoever had originally built the cabin in the wild section where the rocks cropped up amid the stunted trees, it had evidently been abandoned many years, until of late Dubois took possession of the same.
A light through what seemed to be a window without glass was the first indication they had that they were approaching the end of the trail; Eli showed some sign of interest when he saw this, for it meant that there might be another member of the party, and his curiosity was excited.
Could it be possible that there was a regular league of these lawless rovers of the great timber belt, organized to prey upon their fellows, and eager to milk such prizes as Cuthbert Reynolds would prove to be, if once he fell into their clutches?
If so, this could hardly be their headquarters, for it was too near the Hudson Bay post; and from what he had heard about the stern old factor, he would never allow such an organization to get a footing within his territory--if he was a martinet and a stickler for fealty to the company, he was also an honest man, with a hatred for rascality that made him the terror of evil doers.
Stackpole brushed open the door and strode within.
"Follow yer leader, kid," ordered the man in the rear, and accordingly Eli passed over the threshold.
Once within, the boy was ordered to prepare supper, and knowing the folly of resistance he obeyed.
All the time he was on the watch for a chance to do something that would render the guns of the timber cruisers useless.

They were both old style rifles of the breech-loading type, and given a chance Eli knew how to fix them so that it would require the assistance of a gunsmith to place them in serviceable condition again.
Once Dubois went out and called to Stackpole, evidently desirous of conferring with his partner over something he did not wish the boy to overhear.
Eli saw his chance, and though his heart seemed to be in his mouth, he carried out his hastily formed plan.
Stackpole had taken the repeating rifle with him, as if not fully trusting the prisoner.