“But they might have heard of my loss——”
“No, I think it was only a bluff, Hiram. They’ll leave to-day or to-morrow, and that will be the end of it.”
“I hope they do leave,” sighed the real estate dealer. “I won’t feel safe so long as they are on the island.”
“Do you remember the place where you dropped your pocketbook?”
“Not the exact spot. I was all shook up by the storm, and had a splittin’ headache. I looked around for half a day, but it was no use.”
“Maybe the pocketbook and the papers went to the bottom of the lake.”
“I’d rather have that happen than that they should run across those papers,” answered Skeetles, with another sigh.
The spot Joel Runnell had chosen for a new camp was located not far from where Fred had been fishing. Here a clump of pines overhung a hollow several yards wide, and sloping off toward the lake shore. To the north of the hollow were a series of rocks, that, along with the pines, cut off a good portion of the wind and the snow.
“I’ll cut a few saplings, and throw them over the hollow, and over them we can place a double blanket and some pine boughs,” said Joel Runnell. “Then we can clean out the place and start a fire near the doorway, and we’ll be almost as comfortable as at the lodge.”
“They kept one of the deer on us. I think that was cheeky.”