“We’ll tell Govereau that we have been visiting the factor at Fort du Lac—spending our vacation there, and that we were on our way south—to return home. How’s that?”
“That sounds all right,” Sandy responded, a little dubiously.
“No go so far east if go south from Fort du Lac,” Toma’s dark eyes blinked rapidly.
Dick thought a minute. “Then suppose we have some one at Fort Dunwoody that we want to see before we leave for home—a cousin.”
“That’s the trick,” Sandy agreed enthusiastically.
“Then we all understand what we’re to tell,” Dick resumed. “Toma, how about it?”
“I tell um,” was the taciturn reply.
“If Govereau believes our story he may let us go,” Dick concluded. “If he learns the truth he may do something worse than just hold us behind a locked door.”
All three were silent for a time while Dick paced back and forth. Upon his shoulders he realized was now the bulk of responsibility. Toma might excel him on the trail, where native woodcraft and instinctive stealth was the chief requirement, but in the present situation Toma was at best only a willing servant. And it was Sandy’s nature to depend upon his chum, himself only offering what suggestions occurred to his lower mind.
“I’ve a plan to escape, if this first scheme fails!” Dick suddenly stopped his pacing and looked about him.