“You ain’t heard of it likely,” he said. “You wouldn’t. But this Lupo killed my partner on the Force, an’ I asked the Inspector to let me go after him myself. I followed him in from Dawson an’ lost his trail several days ago. Now, well—”
MacDonald averted his face, rose and walked down towards the lake shore, and the others respected his evident desire to be alone and did not follow.
“Out after Lupo single-handed,” whispered Frank. “And the desperado surrounded by all his men, too.”
Farnum nodded.
“That means nothing to the Mounted,” said he.
CHAPTER VIII.—FIRST BLOOD.
So tired were all members of the party after their unexpected exertions of moving camp and trekking on, coming at the end of a day filled with fatiguing labor, that now a haven had been reached and they had relaxed from their tension, they were ready to go to sleep at once. First, however, preparations had to be made not only to keep guard but to keep watch also for Dick and Art. Although the latter did not know definitely, of course, where they were encamped, yet it would not be difficult for them to follow the trail at least to the shore of the lake.
“Look here,” said MacDonald, returning to join the conference, “I’m not near as tired as the rest of you. I’ll keep watch for your friends for a couple of hours while the rest of you get some sleep.”
“All right,” said Farnum, gratefully, “that is, if you promise to wake me at the end of two hours. I can use a little sleep right now.”
“Turn in, then,” said MacDonald. “These spruces give you enough shade. And, anyway, I guess you don’t need much inducement to go to sleep.”