“Can you!” Dick and Sandy chorused, “I should smile.”
“You know what this means,” the trader went on sternly. “Bear Henderson is a powerful man. There isn’t a doubt this runner was followed here. There may be men right here at Fort du Lac who are in sympathy with the outlaw. Henderson is plotting against the whole northern frontier held by Hudson’s Bay Company. It’s life or death.”
“We’ll do it!” Dick cried eagerly. “Tell us what to do.”
“All right then. You go by canoe down the river to Mackenzie’s Landing. Tell Mackenzie I asked him to go with you to the mounted police post at Fort Dunwoody. You know the trail that far. Malcolm knows it from the landing on. There’s a grub cache he might have forgotten. In case he has——” the boys followed MacLean behind the counter. From the strong box the trader drew a map. “Now here is our post,” the trader continued, indicating a dot on the rough map with a match end, while Dick and Sandy followed him attentively; “There’s Little Moose Portage, and further down Mackenzie’s Landing, the free trader’s post. Twenty miles further the river swings north and you leave the water and go by land. Then here’s where you strike the cache of food——”
Dick’s sudden, startled cry interrupted. “What was that at the window!”
“I didn’t see anything,” whispered Sandy.
“Sure you weren’t imagining something?” said the trader.
“I know I saw a face right there a moment ago,” Dick insisted, pointing to a window in the rear of the long store. “It seemed to be an Indian’s face which was covered with hideous scars.”
MacLean walked back and pulled the curtains shut over the window. He returned and went on explaining the location of the cache and the route to be taken to Fort Dunwoody.
Once started, Dick and Sandy were not long in preparing for the trip down the river to Mackenzie’s Landing. They cleaned and oiled their 30.30 Ross rifles, packed a canoe with flour, beans, bacon, coffee, salt, sugar and camp utensils, and saw that they were well supplied with ammunition.