Ten minutes passed.
“Wonder what’s keeping him,” he thought.
Five more minutes went by.
“If he don’t come in another five minutes I’ll go look him up,” Bob declared half out loud.
The five minutes slipped away and no Jack came.
“Hope he hasn’t got into trouble,” he thought, as he also quickly substituted moccasins for the heavy shoes.
Outside the door he stood and strained his ears. A light wind swayed the tops of the pines and spruces with a faint moaning sound, but otherwise perfect silence reigned throughout the deep forest.
“He said over by the bunk house,” he muttered, as he started off in that direction, making not the slightest sound as his moccasined feet struck the snow.
In a moment the rough side of the bunk house loomed out of the darkness directly in front of him, and again he stopped and listened. No sound came to tell him what had become of his brother.
“Mighty funny,” he thought, as he turned the corner of the building and groped his way step by step along the back.