kind of a hunch we won't
have to go back to the Nipissing." He looked gropingly about, without
seeing, in the manner of an old man.

"I hope your hunch is a good one," replied Dick. "Well, mush on!"

The little cavalcade had made barely a dozen steps in advance when Sam,
who was leading, came to a dead halt.

"Well, what do you make of that?" he asked.

Across the way lay the trunk of a fallen tree. It had been entirely
covered with snow, whose line ran clear and unbroken its entire length
except at one point, where it dipped to a shallow notch.

"Well, what do you make of that?" Sam inquired again.

"What?" asked Dick.

Sam pointed to the shallow depression in the snow covering the prostrate
tree-trunk.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dick looked at his companion a little bewildered.

"Why, you must know as well as I do," he said, "somebody stepped on top
of that log with snow-shoes, and it's snowed since."

"Yes, but who?" insisted Sam.

"The trapper in this district, of course."

"Sure; and let me tell you this,--that trapper is the man we're after.
That's his trail."

"How do you know?"

"I'm sure. I've got a hunch."

Dick looked sceptical, then impressed. After all, you never could tell
what a man might not learn out in the Silent Places, and the old
woodsman had grown gray among woods secrets.

"We'll follow the trail and find his camp," pursued Sam.

"You ain't going to ambush him?" inquired Dick.

"What's the use? He's the last man we have to tend to in this district,
anyway. Even if it shouldn't be Jingoss, we don't care if he sees us.
We'll tell him we're travelling from York to Winnipeg. It must be pretty
near on the direct line from here."

"All right," said Dick.

They set themselves to following the trail. As the only persistences of
it through the last storm were to be found where the snow-shoes had left
deep notches on the fallen timber, this was not an easy matter. After a
time the affair was simplified by the dogs. Dick had been breaking
trail, but paused a moment to tie his shoe. The team floundered ahead.
After a moment it discovered the half-packed snow of the old trail a
foot below the newer surface, and, finding it easier travel, held to it.
Between the partial success at this, and an occasional indication on the
tops of fallen trees, the woodsmen managed to keep the direction of the
fore-runner's travel.

Suddenly Dick stopped short in his tracks.

"Look there!" he excla