It was early the following morning. Bob was busy frying flap jacks and the Indian and Rex were rolling the bedding. Jack asked the question after he made a thorough search of the camp.
“Where’d you leave it?” Bob asked.
“I’m not sure but I thought I placed it right beside my bed.”
“Well, you know what thought did. You’ll probably find it right where you left it if you look long enough.”
“It’s mighty funny,” Jack mused as he made another search. “Come to think of it I’m dead certain I put it there.”
Just then Bob called that breakfast was ready and as soon as the meal was over all joined in the search for the rifle. But they failed to locate it.
“Now what do you know about that?” Jack asked after he had looked under his bed of boughs for the fourth time.
“Heap queer. Rifle she gone.”
“You’re right it’s heap queer and then some,” Bob agreed. “But who’s seen Sicum this morning?”
“Sicum heap gone too,” Kernertok said, a look of puzzled amazement on his stoical face.