“Do you remember, Dick, how many of those trappers’ shacks there were where we saw ponies?”
“Three,” answered Dick quickly.
“But we went past several where we saw none. Do you recall whether there were dogs around these places?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
Rand mumbled something which Dick did not catch. Then—
“Well, I’ve come to this conclusion: Those five or six places harbour the outlaws—all of them, every member of the pack-train. I’m convinced that if we went back there tomorrow we’d also find the fur.”
“If Murky has five or six separate caches, why did he build the warehouse?”
“Couldn’t very well get along without it. Consider his position. The boat from Seattle may on occasion be two or three days late. What is to be done with the fur? It is too valuable to be piled up on the landing wharf in all kinds of weather. The warehouse would be—”
Corporal Rand did not complete the sentence. Dick had jumped to his feet and was waving his arms about wildly.
“There it comes! There it comes!” he shouted. “The boat! It has entered the inlet. Look, corporal!”