"I did not see him at all, Mr. Oakes, but I ran into him, or rather he into me. I have a piece of his shirt here, sir."
The man handed something to Oakes, and together we peered at it in the dim morning light. We soon determined that it was a good-sized piece of the neck of a shirt.
Then, watching carefully the woods around, I stood on guard, while Oakes examined the inside of the hut. It was an old hunter's cabin evidently, and had not been recently used. The table was made of rough boards, and was supported by two stumps. It might have served as a place to lie upon also.
Oakes uttered an exclamation, as the guide handed him a piece of paper money that was on the floor. Nothing else was found. The lantern had gone with the men.
"One man was giving money to the other to get him away, and nearly lost his life in defense of the rest in his possession. This is a piece of a bill torn off in the struggle," said Oakes.
"Do you recognize this shirt pattern?" asked he.
"Yes, sir," said our guide; "it is like what O'Brien wears."
"Exactly!" said Oakes. "And you"—he addressed the man—"come with us to the road. Can you walk that far?"
"Yes, indeed. I am all right now, but I was finished for a few minutes."