ed Lem's burden of labour during his declining years.

Eli Horn was a big, broad-shouldered, swarthy young man of few words.
For an hour after he heard his father's detailed story of Indian
Jake's visit to the cabin, he sat in sullen silence by the stove.
Suddenly he arose, lifted his rifle from the pegs upon which it rested
against the wall, dropped some ammunition into his cartridge bag, and
swinging it over his shoulder strode toward the door.

"Where you goin', Eli?" asked Lem from his bunk.

"To hunt Indian Jake," said Eli as he closed the door behind him and
passed out into the night.

CHAPTER VI

THE TRACKS IN THE SAND

A smart south-west breeze had sprung up. White caps were dotting the
Bay, and with all sails set the boat bowled along at a good speed.

David held the tiller, while Andy and Jamie busied themselves with
their handbooks. They were an hour out of Horn's Bight when David
sighted the Horn boat beating up against the wind. Drawing within
hailing distance he told them of the accident.

Mrs. Horn, greatly excited, asked many questions. David assured her
that her husband's injuries were not serious, nevertheless she was
quite certain Lem lay at death's door.

"'Tis the first time I leaves home in most a year," she lamented. "I
were feelin' inside me 'twere wrong to go and leave Lem alone. And
now he's gone and been shot and liker'n not most killed."

"'Tis too bad to make Mrs. Horn worry so. I'm wonderfully sorry,"
David sympathized, as the boats passed beyond speaking distance.
"She'll worry now till they gets home, and the way Lem ate goose I'm
thinkin' he ain't hurt bad enough to worry much about he."

"They'll get there to-night whatever," said Andy. "'Tis the way of
Mrs. Horn to worry, even when we tells she Lem's doin' fine."

"I'm wonderin' and wonderin' who 'twere shot Lem," said David.
"Whoever 'twere had un in his heart to do murder."

"Whoever 'twere looked in through the window and saw Lem with the fine
silver fox on the table and sets out to get the fox," reasoned Andy.
"The shootin' were done through the window where there's a pane of
glass broke out."

"I sees where there's a pane of glass out," said David. "'Twas not
fresh broke though."

"No, 'twere an old break," Andy agreed. "I goes to look at un, and I
sees fresh tracks under the window where the man stands when he
shoots."

"Tracks!" exclaimed David. "I never thought to look for tracks now! I
weren't thin