my claim, if Chandler should happen to
file his papers, this would cloud my title. Besides," went on the
colonel, "Chandler is a naturalized Canadian and you know the mining laws
up here are not made to favor the outsider. A foreigner such as I am,
when he's working in these unsurveyed districts, can only stake out his
claim, wait for the survey and then buy the property. Chandler would have
it all over me if he set up the claim of a native, especially ahead of
me."

"I don't think he's gone," suggested Paul, "for he ate breakfast here
yesterday morning."

"And it's somewhere between two hundred and fifty and three hundred miles
between here and the land office," exclaimed Norman.

"It would be interesting to know whether he has gone," answered Colonel
Howell.

"Why not ask Miller or Ewen?" broke in Roy. "They might know something
about him."

Colonel Howell shook his head: "They'd better know nothing about the
letter," he answered at last. "It was written a long time ago."

"You mean they may have changed their minds?" asked Norman.

"I don't mean that," answered Colonel Howell, his face again sober, "but
they had the matter under consideration once. I don't suspect them. I'll
just keep my eyes open and say nothing. If they are all right they might
get sore and leave me."

"Do you mind," asked Roy, "if I go out and do a little investigating?
Chandler may be over to Fort McMurray."

The colonel thought a moment and then answered:

"That won't do any harm. All of you might go hunting this afternoon over
in that direction--if it isn't too cold."

Eagerly enough the boys accepted the suggestion. Protected by their heavy
clothing and carrying the camera and their skin-protected rifles, they
found the trip to the settlement only exhilarating. At Fort McMurray the
temperature, which was twenty-two below zero, did not give much trouble
so long as the wind did not blow. To those whom they met, the boys talked
of being on their way to the hills for moose. But later they determined
not to venture upon the highlands, deciding to make a detour in the
timber on their way back for a possible deer.

They had no trouble in getting trace of Chandler. In the cabin of a white
prospector, where Chandler was well known, they picked up the latest town
gossip. This was that Chandler, who yet seemed to have plenty of money,
had hired Pete Fosseneuve, a half-breed, only two days before to take him
back to his trapping camp at Po