told the girl, little fear of any attack developing that
night, and this anticipation proved to be the correct one. The still,
dead hours passed in quietness, and when the grey day broke, he
cautiously opened the cabin-door and looked out. Nothing stirred
anywhere, either in the forest or lakewards. He turned and looked at
his companion who had just emerged from her sleeping place.

"I think we have our little world to ourselves again."

"Whoever made the attack may be lurking in the woods!" said Helen.

"That of course is more than possible, but I do not think it is likely.
It is extremely cold and a night in the open would be anything but
desirable. The attacker or attackers, if from the Indian encampment,
probably returned there. They must know that we can't leave here, and
they will probably try to lull us into a feeling of security, and then
attempt a surprise. Anyway after breakfast we'll beat the neighbouring
coverts, I don't fancy being kept indoors by an enemy who may prove to
be very contemptible."

When breakfast was finished and the necessary morning tasks finished,
Stane, who had been in and out of the hut frequently and had kept a
careful watch on the wood and lake, looked at Helen.

"Do you feel equal to facing the possible danger, Miss Yardely?"

"I am not afraid," answered Helen quickly, "and if I were I wouldn't
own it--or show it, I hope."

"I don't believe you would," replied Stane with a smile. "We will go
out, first on the lake where we can survey the shore; and then along
the path in the woods where we saw that man yesterday."

"About that man," said Helen slowly. "There was something that I meant
to tell you yesterday, but I forgot it again in the excitement of Mr.
Anderton's arrival."

"What was that?" asked Stane pausing in the act of slipping on his fur
parka.

"Well, I had an odd fancy that he was not an Indian."

"You thought he was a white man?"

"Yes," answered Helen, "that idea occurred to me when you spoke of
Indians. The man may have been a native, but in the fleeting glimpse I
had of him he did not give me that impression. Of course I may be
utterly mistaken."

"But what white man would run away from us?" asked Stane, thoughtfully.
"What could possibly be his reason for avoiding us?"

"I don't know," answered Helen, with a quick laugh. "And as it may be
no more than my fancy, the question of the man's racial identity is not
worth worrying over. I merely thought I woul