soon be dark and we can't go on then.
Have you any idea where we are?"

"Yep; this place 'bout eighteen mile from camp," Jean nodded
confidently. "'Bout mile mebbe little more to little valley. In valley
is the little cabin. I know him. Somebody say this cabin hav' haunt.
Somebody kill 'nother man once who liv' there. Then nobody ever go near
because dead man walk aroun' there at night. Cabin mebbe not there now.
Anyhow we see, because we know dead man can't walk aroun'."

"Lead me to the cabin. The dead man may walk around there all he likes,
provided he doesn't object to our sheltering with him," declared David
with grim humor.

Floundering through dense growths of impeding bushes and crackling
underbrush, their feet sinking into a thick carpet of soggy, fallen
leaves, the two at last reached the top of a steep, rocky elevation.
From there, in the fast fading light, they could look down into a narrow
valley, formed by the precipitous slant of two hills.

"I see him." Jean pointed triumphantly to a tiny hut, seemingly wedged
into the upper end of the valley. In the October twilight the outlines
of the shack were just visible.

"It's going to be some work to get down there," observed David,
doubtfully eyeing the uninviting prospect before them.

"Up there, not very far, it is easy," assured Jean. "You follow me, then
wait. I go ahead an' fin' the way." The indefatigable old hunter took
the lead, plodding along with the same energy that had characterized the
beginning of his day's tramp. Sturdy though he was, David soon found
himself well in the rear of the tireless old man, and it was not long
until he lost sight of him in the fast falling darkness.

Peering anxiously ahead, David flashed the small electric searchlight he
carried in an effort to discern Jean. Fearing lest he might become lost
from Jean entirely, he returned it to a coat pocket, cupped his hands to
his mouth and emitted a peculiar trumpet-like call, known as the Elf's
Horn, which Tom Gray himself had taught him. Twice he sounded it, before
he had the satisfaction of hearing Jean answer him, repeating it several
times.

Guided by the sound, and with the aid of his searchlight, David stumbled
his hurried way toward Jean, who had now halted to wait for his young
friend.

"Jean, you old rascal, I thought I'd lost you for good and all," laughed
David as he brought up at the hunter's side. "You mustn't expect too
much of a tenderfoot, you know. I'm