“It’s a signal!” announced Butler quietly. “Now what can it mean?”
“It means trouble for us,” spoke up Stacy. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“Who would desire to make trouble for us here?” demanded the Professor.
“I don’t know,” replied Tad. “I don’t believe that smoke has anything to do with us. It must be an Indian signal.”
“No Indian,” grunted Anvik. “Him white man smoke.”
“How do you know?” questioned the Professor sharply.
“Then perhaps you may be able to tell us whose smoke it is?”
“Him white man. Mebby same man, mebby not. White man all same. Him call other white man. Him say some along, by jink.”
“Let’s make a smoke and answer him,” suggested Ned eagerly. “That would be a joke on him, whoever he is.”