How long would the man be gone? Was there any one left on the raft?
These were the questions that came into the boy's mind. There was no
sign of life on the _Venture_, and by running a short distance up the
trail Winn became convinced that the man had gone at least as far as
the edge of the timber. Would he ever again have so good a chance of
recovering his father's property? Besides, what a fine thing it would
be for him to recapture the raft alone, without the aid of Billy
Bracket! or any one else. This latter thought decided the boy, and
caused him to hastily retrace his steps.
Never had Winn been so excited! As he sprang aboard the raft and tried
to cast off its fastenings he momentarily expected to hear a shout from
the bank or a gruff demand from the interior of the "shanty" as to what
he was about. Perhaps the summons would take the form of a
pistol-shot, for men who would steal a raft and destroy a thousand
dollars' worth of wheat would not be likely to hesitate at anything.
At this last thought Winn seemed to feel the deadly sting of a bullet,
and in his nervousness only made more intricate the knot he was trying
to untie. At length he whipped out his jack-knife and cut the rope.
Now to head the raft out into the stream. He picked up a long
set-pole, thrust one end into the bank, braced himself, and began to
push.
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