"Wall, I'll be blowed!" he muttered. "I thought thar was more meat left, but that last moose j'int is almost gone, an' what's left is about all bone an' gristle. Guess I'll have to go to the store, though I hate to do so. Mebbe Bill has some on hand."
He was about to blow out the candle, when he suddenly paused.
"No, guess I'd better leave it fer the lad. He'll be back soon. Let me see: he'll wonder whar I am. Ah, that's the idee. I'll jist leave a note to tell 'im I'm at the store. I may be longer than I expect."
Finding a piece of brown paper, and unearthing a stub of a pencil from a few simple treasures kept in an old box, he painfully scrawled the brief sentence: "You'll find me at the store. Dan."
Little dreaming that this simple act would bring his partner into such serious difficulty the worthy trapper closed the cabin door, and walked rapidly toward the store.
He found Siwash Bill alone in the building, smoking an old blackened pipe. The squaw man could hardly conceal his pleasure at seeing Dan alone. He feigned surprise, however, at his early return, and questioned him as to his luck on the hills.
"Brought nuthin' back," Dan replied. "Not even a sheep. Say have ye any meat?"
"No," replied the trader. "I'm clean skinned out. Not a scrap left. I've some in the cache, though, about three miles up-stream."
"Three miles! Good Lord!" groaned the trapper, "an' I want it now."
"Why not wait till the mornin', Dan? Surely yer not so hard up as that?"