“Let’s not judge him hastily. He has certainly been all that the most exacting could ask of a guide, and I don’t see why we should now conclude that he will act otherwise.”
That was as much as Merry could say.
Not having decided what to do with the head of the moose, it was permitted to lie on the ground in front of the tent, where Dunnerwust had put it.
Caribou had said he would be back soon, but the slow hours went by without bringing him.
“He’s up to some deviltry,” said Diamond. “I saw it in his eye when he started. Of course, I haven’t an idea what it can be, but we’ll know soon enough, I don’t doubt.”
To this Merriwell could not make a satisfactory reply. Still, he believed that John Caribou was all right, in spite of his strange actions, and so expressed himself, though he could not deny to himself that he was beginning to feel uneasy as the time passed without bringing the guide.
“There he comes,” announced Hodge, shortly before sunset.
Bart was collecting fuel for a fire. This was work devolving upon the guide, but the guide’s continued absence required them to set about preparations for getting supper themselves.
Merriwell, who was standing near him, looked in the direction indicated, where the form of a man was to be seen moving among the trees.
“Caribou’s coming,” he cried, putting his head into the tent where Diamond sat with Bruce Browning.