Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1918-02-15

4 a
like turtle? burden says Wild Goose
looks fine. There's gold up there
heaps of it."
''Let it stay there, then. 1 ain't
going. That's fiat" Holt turned to
adjust the damper of his stove.
"Oh, / don't know. / wouldn't say
that" drawled Bill innolently.
The man at the stove caught the
change in tone and t'lIned quickly. He
was too late. Macy had thrown him
self forward and the weight of his
body flung Holt against the wall Be
| fore the miner could recover, the other
two men were upon him. They bore
him to the floor and in spite of his
struggles tied him hand and foot.
Big Bill rose and looked down deri-
sively at his prisoner. Better change
your mind and go with us, Holt Wen
spend quiet month up at the head
quarters of Wild Goose. Say you'll
come along"
What are you going to do with
| meT" demanded Holt.
Il reckon you need church to fall
on you before you can take hint.
Didn't | mention Wild Goose creek
| three or four times?" jeered his captor.
Holt made no further protest He
was furious, but at present quite help
less. However it went against tho
grain, he might as well give in until re-
bellfon would do some good.
Ten minutes later the party was
moving silently along the trail that
led to the hills. The pack horse went
first, in charge of George Holway. The
prisoner walked next. his hands tied
behind him. Big Bill followed, and
the man he had called bud brought up
the rear
Macy had released the hands Of his
prisoner so that he might have a
chance 60 fight the mosquitoes, but he
kept wary eye upon him and never
let him move more than a few feet
from him. The trail grew sleeper as it
neared the head of che canyon till at
last 1t climbed the left wall and
emerged from the gulch to an uneven
mesa.
The leader of the party looked at
his watch. "Past midnight. Wen
camp here, George, and see if we can't
get rid of the 'skeeters."
They built smudge fires Of green
wood and on the lee side of these an
other one Of dry sticks. bud made
coffee upon this and cooked bacon.
While George chopped wood for the
fires and boughs of small frs for bed
ding, Big Bill sat with a rifle acros9
his knees just back of the prisoner.
"Gid's shifty old cuss, and l amt
taking any chances" he explained
aloud to bud.
Holt was beginning to take the out
rage philOsophically. He slept peace
fully while they took turns watching
him. Just now there would be no
chance to escape, but IN a few days
they would become careless. The
habit of feeling that they had him Sc
curely would grow upon them. Then,
reasoned Holt, his opportunity would
come. One of the guards would take
chance. 1t was not reasonable to
suppose that in the next week or two
he would not catch them mapping once
for short ten seconds.
There was, Of course, just the pos
sibility that they intended to murder
him, but Holt could not associate Self
ridge with anything so lawless. The
man was too soft of fiber to carry
through such a program, and as yet
there was need of nothing so drastic.
No, this kidnapping expedition would
not run to murder. He would be set
free in few weeks, and if he told the
true story of where he had been his
foes would spread the report that he
was insane in his hatred of Macdonald
and imagined all sorts of prosecutions.
They followed Wild Goose creek all
next day, getting always closer to it's
headwaters near the divide. On the
third day they crossed to the other
side of the ridge and descended into
little mountain park.
The country was so much a primeval
wilderness that a big bull moose
stalked almost upon their camp before
discovering the presence of strange
biped. Big Bill snatched up rifle and
took a shot which sent the intruder
scampering.
From somewhere In the distance
came a faint sound.
"What was that?" asked George.
SOUNDED like a shot. Mebbe it was
an echo," returned bud.
"Came too late for an echo," Big Bill
said.
Again family from some far corner
of the basin the sound drifted. 1t was
like the pop of scarcely heard fire.
cracker.
The men looked at one another and
at their prisoner.
"Think we better break camp and
driftY asked bud.
"No. We're in little draw here
as good hiding place as we'd be like
ly to find. Drive the horses into the
brush, George. Wen sit tight"
bud had been busy stamping out
the campfire while Holway was driv-
ing the horses into the brush.
''Mebbe you had better get the camp
things behind them big rocks" Macy
conceded.
Even as he spoke there came the