“Then you are a worse woodsman than I thought you.”
“You might explain. Have you gone crazy?”
“Not just yet. Don’t you smell anything?”
“Um—a-h-h-h! Yes, I do. Smoke.”
“Wood smoke, Jack, and wood smoke means a fire, and fire means a human being.”
“Yes, and a human being may—mean—may mean——”
“Well?”
“A human being that may make us a lot of trouble; for instance, the man who stole that skin!”
“Cracky! It may be he! Wait right here till I creep ahead a little.”
Dodging here and there behind tree trunks, Tom stole cautiously forward. He made not a sound as he went except when now and again the snow creaked under his feet. As he moved, he was doing some rapid thinking.