“There’s only one cratur that can thrack Sunbeam through the woods, and his name is Zip,” replied Mike. “If I hadn’t seen with me own eyes what he can do, I wouldn’t belave the same. Wal, here we are!”
They had reached the little clearing in the middle of which stood the familiar cabin, as silent and devoid of all signs of life as ever. Without hesitation, Mike led the way up the path, placed his foot on the small steps, and was about to reach up to draw the latch, when he recoiled with a gasp.
“Do ye obsarve that?” he asked in a startled whisper.
The latchstring was inside!
Never since the leathern thong was first shoved through the little orifice above the tongue of iron had this occurred, by day or night.
The two boys stood for several minutes staring at the blank door, and then looked in each other’s face. Not the slightest sound was heard from within.
“What does it mean, Mike?” asked the Patrol Leader in a still lower whisper.
“It maans ‘no admittince’; this is no place for us. I can’t guess what raison Uncle Elk has for shutting ivery one out, but he’s done it, and we must respect it.”
They turned away, hurrying in the direction of Doctor Spellman’s house, and had almost reached it when they met the physician, his wife and Scout Master Hall, to whom the two boys told the astounding news. In other circumstances they would have theorized as to the cause of Uncle Elk’s unaccountable action, but there was only one theme that filled every mind.
“It shuts us off from any aid by him,” remarked the doctor; “we can only keep up the search and wait for the coming of my nephew and his dog,—but,” he added bitterly, “that may not be for days, when even he can do nothing.”