Part 3 (1/2)

”Yes, do make yourself at home,” Hicks said now. ”I am glad you took the boys with you to St. Paul. It is a bit lonesome for them here, and I have to be away a good deal.”

Next morning Hicks walked along the prairie road with Barker, and the trapper knew that Hicks had something to say to him.

When they were no longer within sight of the shack, Hicks began:

”It would suit me just as well, Barker, if you wouldn't take those lads away from my place. I'm their guardian and I reckon I can look after them.”

”I'm glad to hear you say that, Mr. Hicks. I always thought the boys ought to have a guardian. But I want to tell you that, in my opinion, you have done blessed little guarding.”

”Just the same,” Hicks replied, his Southern accent becoming more p.r.o.nounced, ”it would suit me just as well if you and yours wouldn't meddle in my business.”

”Now look here, Hicks,” the trapper turned on him with his gray eyes flas.h.i.+ng, ”this isn't a matter of business at all. You claim to be the friend or guardian of these two boys, and you not only neglect them, but you expose them to great danger.”

”Where's the danger, and what...?” Hicks started, his anger plainly rising.

”Hicks,” the trapper cut him short, ”don't pretend to me that you don't know. You know as well as I do that a storm is brewing here and that the Indians may break into murder and war almost any day. It would not have surprised me if they had broken out before the _f.a.n.n.y Harris_ had reached La Crosse.”

”All the same,” retorted Hicks, trying to straighten his lank and stooped body, ”you and yours will let those boys alone in the future.”

Barker felt this was a threat. ”Good,” he replied. ”If that's your trump card, I'll play mine. Hicks, if any harm comes to those lads, I'll hunt you down and make you pay for it. Remember that! Your duty is to take those lads home to Vicksburg and you can come back with a load of rum, if you want to. We're through. Good morning.”

The two men stood facing each other a moment. A whirling gust blew off the old gray hat of Hicks, and he hurriedly caught it and put it on again. Then, without a word, he turned and with a slouching gait started to go back.

Something about Hicks had startled Barker. For a moment he stood thinking. Had he not seen this man years ago? Then he leaned against an old gnarly bur-oak. Hicks turned as if he would come back, but when he saw the trapper watching him, he changed his mind.

”No, Hicks,” the trapper thought, ”your game won't work on me. You can't plug me in the back and bury me in the brush in the ravine.”

But where had he met this man before? He lit his pipe and thought. Now it flashed upon him. Ten years ago, when he had been trapping and hunting wild turkeys in the valley of the Wabash, in Indiana, he had met a man he had never forgotten. The man was under arrest for murder and the sheriff stopped over night with him in Barker's cabin. The next day he broke away and had never been heard from. He had black hair then, dark eyes, and a small red scar stood out sharply on his white forehead.

”That man was Hicks!” the trapper exclaimed. ”I never forgot that scar.”

”Why has he brought those boys into the Indian Country?” Barker asked himself. ”How could any parents trust their boys to a man of his kind?”

But Hicks could be very pleasant, and he was a good talker. He had made many friends among both Whites and Indians. He seemed to have some money and was a liberal spender. Nevertheless, after turning over in his mind all he knew about Hicks, Barker could not make up his mind why Hicks and the boys were here and why Hicks so absolutely neglected the boys he had evidently promised to look after.

A week later Barker met the boys at a slough, where both he and the lads sometimes went for a mess of wild ducks and the trapper decided to see what he could find out about Cousin Hicks. The boys being asked, told freely what they knew.

Cousin Hicks was some distant relative of their mother. He had lived at Vicksburg about a year and had often visited at their home and had sat many hours chatting with their father in his little store. The boys had gone north with him, so they could squat on some good land, and because Tim was often sick at Vicksburg. As soon as their parents could sell their store, they would also come north, because they had heard and read about the boom in Minnesota lands and what big crops of wheat it would raise. The boys liked it in Minnesota, only Tim got homesick at times.

Cousin Hicks was not mean to them, only he didn't work and didn't stay at home, but he never worked much in Vicksburg, either.

There had been some trouble and a lawsuit between their two grandfathers in Tennessee and the boys had never been to see them.

That was all the boys knew. It did not help Barker much, but he felt more sure than ever that Hicks was playing some crooked game and he decided to watch things, no matter what might be the outcome.

When fall came, the boys had eaten all the corn in their garden and in order to have something to live on during the winter, they went to a large slough to gather wild rice in the way they had learned of the Indians.

As the winter pa.s.sed, bad news came for the lads from the South. Their father wrote that the war was getting worse and that on account of it he could not hope to sell his store, but that the boys might as well stay in Minnesota.