I'm thinking."

Before the words were off the boy's lips the door was pushed gently
open and Oje looked in. He made a gesture asking for silence and
went out again, softly closing the door behind him.

"That's a funny proposition!" whispered Tommy. "Why don't he come
in and get some of the supper Sandy is getting ready?"

The door opened again, then, and Antoine staggered inside. His
face was bloodless and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets.
His clothing was slit in places as if he had been attacked with a
knife, and he staggered about while searching for a chair.

Will sprang forward to the man's assistance, helped him to a chair,
and poured a cup of strong coffee, which the roan drank greedily.

The man's eyes roved wildly about the room for a second then he
turned anxiously to Will.

"Did they get it?" he asked.

"Did they get what?" asked the boy.

"What they came to search for."

Will turned inquiringly toward George.

"Did they find anything during their search?" he asked.

George shook his head.

"They hadn't concluded their search," he replied. "Then they
failed to find the Br----"

There was a movement at the window followed by a rifle shot.

Antoine sitting before the fire by George's side crumpled up and
dropped to the floor, a stream of blood oozing from his temple.

Before the lads could quite comprehend what had taken place, a
second shot came from outside. Then Oje's face appeared in the
doorway again, beckoning to those inside.

Tommy and Sandy stepped into the open air and were directed around
to the rear of the house.

There, face up in the moonlight, lay the man whom Will had
described as an East Indian. The bandage was still around his
head, but a new wound was bleeding now. His eyes were already
fixed and glassy. The bullet had entered the center of the
forehead.

"He shoot man inside!" the Indian grunted.

"And he killed him, too!" answered Tommy.

Entirely unconcerned, the Indian would have struck off into the
forest, but the boys urged upon him the necessity of partaking of
food. With a stoical exclamation of indifference, Oje finally
followed them into the cabin and seated himself before the open
fire.

Antoine was quite dead. The boys straightened his still figure
upon the floor and placed by its side the body of the man who had
been his murderer.

"We must give them decent burial in the morning," Will decided,
"and in order to do so, we must ke