“The Skeet girl, having her own reasons for wanting to come this way from Castonia, got as far as Pogey Notch, slipped off the team, and made her way to Britt’s camp on Jerusalem to join Colin MacLeod. It’s all a put-up job, Mr. Wade, and they’ve simply done what they set out to do in the first place, when Britt and his crew followed John Barrett and me to Durfy’s. So I wouldn’t worry any more about the girl, Mr. Wade. Let her stay where she plainly wants to stay.”
Wade blurted the truth without pausing to weigh consequences. He bitterly needed an adviser. Old Christopher’s calm confidence in his own theory pricked him.
“Great God, man, it isn’t the Skeet girl! It is John Barrett’s daughter—his daughter Elva!”
For a moment Christopher gasped his amazement, without words.
“There have been strange things happening outside since we’ve been locked in here away from the news,” the young man went on, excitedly. “It is Elva Barrett, I tell you, Christopher, and she has been stolen.”
“Then it’s a part of the plot—somehow—someway,” insisted the old man. “Colin MacLeod, or some one interested for Colin MacLeod, saw that girl, and took her for the Skeet girl. I’ve never seen Elva Barrett, but you’ve told me that the Skeet girl is her spittin’ image—or words to that effect,” corrected the old guide.
“And she was dressed in Kate Arden’s clothes!” groaned Wade, remembering Nina Ide’s little scheme of deception.
“Then she’s at Britt’s camp—mistaken for the Skeet girl, as I said,” declared Straight, with conviction.
“But hold on!” he cried, grasping Wade’s arm as the young man was about to rush back into the camp, “that’s no way to go after that girl—hammer and tongs, mob and ragtag. In the first place, Mr. Wade, those men in there are in no frame of mind to be led off into the night. I know woodsmen. They’ve been talkin’ ha’nts till they’re ready to jump ten feet high if you shove a finger at ’em. This is no time for an army—an army of that caliber. They know well enough now at Britt’s camp that it isn’t Kate Arden. And I’ll bet they’re pretty frightened, now that they know who they’ve got. It’s a simple matter, Mr. Wade. I’ll go to Britt’s camp and get the young lady. I’ll go now on snow-shoes and take the moose-sled, and I’ll be back some time to-morrow all safe and happy.”
“I’ll go with you,” declared Wade.