Everything was apparently as he had left them. The notice was still fastened to the trunk of the tree.
The store of provisions was untouched, and he went to the water's edge.
The boat had not been launched, and this in itself was sufficient to show the small guide had not returned.
It was time he arrived, even supposing he remained over night at his home, as had been intimated, and the only reason for delay which he could imagine was that the young gentleman's parents refused to let him continue the hunting trip.
If that had been the case it seemed strange he did not come back to let Jet know he could no longer act as guide and assistant detective.
Thoroughly disheartened Jet threw himself on the ground near the front of the shanty, trying to decide what he could do; when the sound as of some person forcing his way through the underbrush caused a look of joy to come over his face.
An instant later it was replaced by one of disappointment.
Instead of seeing Jim as he had hoped, a very disreputable-looking stranger came from the direction of the upper carry, approaching Jet with a careless "Howdy?"
"Good afternoon," Jet responded.
"Out here on a fishin' trip, eh?"