There was no other conclusion to be reached. This knife was mute evidence that they had not missed their guesses at the point where the trail divided. They were on the right track.
“But I still cannot understand why the trail divided and why two came this way and two went the other way,” Frank remarked.
“I believe I can,” Buster chimed in, not often given to offering solutions to such problems. The boys turned to listen to what he had to offer. “I believe Jeek and one of his pals were with those two tramps. I believe the two tramps are on this trail and that Jeek and his companion went back to Jeek’s camp on the lake.”
For a moment there was no answer to this. Finally Lanky spoke up to give his opinion:
“That sounds all right, because at Todds we saw the print of that crescent piece on the heel—must have belonged on the shoe of one of the men with Jeek.”
Frank shook his head. That was not entirely sound.
“The tramps may have come that way, too. Notice this: the tramps were here when we got here. Jeek and his pals did not come until afterward.”
This puzzled the boys for a while. Frank was right in his statements, and there was no other way out. So, quiet, thinking over it, the boys turned once more to follow the trail.
It was getting toward evening, and with the closing of the day the clouds hung lower, gray, while a wind sprang up from the northwest, a cold, piercing wind that promised to force the boys back to their camp over night.
“Let’s follow this trail to the next hill and take a good look. Of course,” said Frank, “they are maybe twelve hours ahead of us and they can go a long distance in twelve hours. But if we cannot see anything we’ll turn back to the cabin and come back here the first thing in the morning.”