"Reckon that's so, Steve."
"Do you think that he and this man were alone, Jim?" asked our hero.
"You ain't so 'cute by half as I thought yer," was the answer. "Reckon there's a band of 'em that has made Albany their station. Like as not they've wiped out a power of small trading trappers. These here chaps air their scouts."
"Then let's find the band and take a look at them. Look here, Jim, we'll make through the wood till close to the camp, and pick up the tracks of these scouts. Then we'll——"
It was comical to watch Jim as he grasped his young companion's intentions. He swept his skin cap from his head, and darted a keen look at him.
"That air 'cute," he said. "Reckon I withdraws what I've said. That air the movement for us."
Without further conversation they struck off into the forest, Steve following closely in the wake of the hunter, and neither making so much as a sound. Presently, when they judged that they were approaching their own camp, they came to a halt.
"I've been thinkin' of that 'ere gun shot," said Jim. "But these trees has made it safe. Reckon no one at this end has heard the sound. Let's divide."
A quarter of an hour later, when they came together at the same spot, Steve was able to report that he had come upon a trail in the forest, and that the marks showed plainly that it had been used by two men at least, and probably by half a dozen.