“What’s the trouble?” queried Graham, stepping hastily forward with Haverland.
“Their camping ground, that is all.”
Before them were more visible signs of the trail than they had yet witnessed. A heap of ashes were upon the ground; and, as Haverland kicked them apart, he discovered the embers still red and glowing. Sticks were broken and scattered around, and all the varied evidences of an Indian camp were to be seen.
“How long ago was this place vacated?” asked Graham.
“Not three hours.”
“We must be close upon them.”
“Rather, yes.”
“Let us hasten forward then.”
“You see by these coals that they didn’t start until daylight; and as that gal of yourn, Haverland, can’t travel very fast, of course they’ve had to take their time.”