hat devilment has th' Injun
been doin'? Now why did he _leave_ th' fur? 'Tis strange--wonderful
strange."

Dick noted the evidences of an open fire having been kindled upon the
earthen floor. "That fire were made since th' stove were taken," he
said. "Micmac John left th' fur an' made th' fire. He's been stoppin'
here a night after Bob left wi' th' stove. But why were Bob leavin'
wi' th' stove? An' where has he gone? An' why has th' Injun been
leavin' th' fur here an' not comin' for un again? We'll have t' be
findin' out."

They started immediately to search for some clue of the missing lad,
each taking a different direction and agreeing to meet at night in
the tilt. Everywhere they looked, but nothing was discovered, and,
weary and disheartened, they turned back with dusk. Dick returned
across the first lake above the tilt. As he strode along one of his
snow-shoes pressed upon something hard, and he stopped to kick the
snow away from it. It was a deer's antler. He uncovered it farther and
found a chain, which he pulled up, disclosing a trap and in it a
silver fox, dead and frozen stiff. He straightened up and looked at
it.

"A Christmas present for Bob an' he never got un," he said aloud. "Th'
lad's sure perished not t' be findin' his silver."

Here was a discovery that meant something. Bob had been setting traps
in that direction, and might have a string of traps farther on.
Possibly he had gone to put them in order when the storm came, and had
been caught in it farther up, and perished. Anyway it was worth
investigation. When Dick returned with the fox and the trap to the
tilt he told the others of his theory and it was decided to
concentrate their efforts in that direction in the morning.

Accordingly the next day they pushed farther to the westward across
the second lake, and at a point where a dead tree hung out over the
ice found fresh axe cuttings. A little farther on they saw one or two
sapling tops chopped off. These were in a line to the northward, and
they took that direction. Finally they came upon a marsh, and heading
in the same northerly course across it, came upon the tracks of a pack
of wolves. Looking in the direction from which these led, Dick stopped
and pointed towards a high boulder half a mile to the eastward.

"Now what be that black on th' snow handy t' th' rock?" he asked.

"'Tis lookin' t' me like a flat sled," said Ed.

"We'll have a look at un," suggested Dick, who hurried forward