He stopped short, and looked at the snow before him. There were prints that filled him with wonder.
“What is it, Joe?” asked Fred.
“Unless I am mistaken these marks were made by the hoofs of a horse!”
“They were,” said Joel Runnell, after an examination. “Somebody has been around here on horseback.”
“Perhaps we’ve got a visitor,” suggested Harry. “Let’s hurry up and see.”
Increasing their speed they soon reached the lodge. The hoof prints were there, and they could plainly see where somebody had leaped from the horse and entered the building.
“Hope it wasn’t a thief,” said Joe.
The door was fastened just as they had left it, and inside of the lodge nothing appeared to be disturbed. But on the table was a note, pinned down by a fork stuck in the crack of the boards. The note ran as follows:
“You ain’t wanted here, and you had better clear out before Hiram Skeetles has the law on you.
“Daniel Marcy.”
“Well, listen to that!” ejaculated Joe. “What right has Dan Marcy to leave such a message as this?”