“Me for that,” Jack agreed. “But you wake me up if you hear anything.”
“I will,” Bob promised as he tumbled into bed.
But if any ghost came around that night he was very quiet about it for none of them was disturbed and the sun was shining in at the window when Bob awoke.
It was Sunday and breakfast was an hour later than usual so he decided to let Jack sleep. Kernertok’s bed was empty and Sicum was not in the room.
“Guess they’ve gone out for an early morning walk,” he thought as he began to dress.
It was only six o’clock and he knew that the old Indian was an early riser so he felt no alarm at his absence.
“It’s a peach of a morning,” he said half aloud as he stepped out and softly closed the door behind him.
For a moment he stood just outside drawing into his lungs great draughts of the crisp air heavily laden with the mingled scent of spruce and pine. Then he walked slowly toward the lake. As soon as he came around the corner of the big cabin he saw Kernertok and Sicum standing on the end of the wharf gazing out over the lake.
“She heap fine body of water,” the Indian said as he joined them.
“Sure is,” Bob agreed as he bent over to pat Sicum’s head. “But I hope we haven’t dragged you and Sicum up here for nothing.”