“Anyway it’s a cinch that neither Pierre or that there Tiny, as you call him, is the leader. There’s someone with more brains behind all this. It takes brains and a lot of them to outwit Uncle Sam as long as this gang have done it, and I don’t believe either of those fellows can qualify.”
“I believe you. They run more to muscle than to grey matter. But some of these half-breeds are pretty shrewd at that.”
“Cunning rather. They know the woods but when it comes to planning out things like this it takes the brain of a white man, and, mark my word, when the puzzle is solved, you’ll find that an American of education is the power behind the throne.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Jack agreed. “But what’s the next move?”
“I don’t think we can do better than stay right here till it gets light enough to see. Then I reckon we’ll have to go back to the camp and stock up on grub. I lost two or three packages on the way up here and the larder is pretty low. By the way, I wonder why that cabin didn’t disappear. It didn’t live up to its reputation.”
“Guess we didn’t give it time. If we went back there now I’ll bet a cent we’d find it gone.”
“Perhaps. But we’ll take your word for it, that is, for the time being.”
“The one thing which I regret more than anything else about this expedition so far is that they’ve got my radio set,” Jack mourned.
“You needn’t shed any tears about that because I’ve got it in my pocket,” Bob assured him.
“Do you mean it?”