He swung round instantly. Helen Yardely was standing at the tent door with a smile on her face.
"The matter is serious enough," he explained quickly. "Some one has stolen the canoe in the night."
"Stolen the canoe!" echoed the girl.
"Yes! You can see his tracks in the grass, going up to the place where he stood and watched us. He must have come down whilst we slept."
"But who can have done such a thing?"
Stane shook his head. "I cannot think. A wandering Indian most likely.... Hard put to it, I expect. He has taken a sack of beans with him."
"Then we are stranded?" asked the girl quickly.
"In a way—yes," he agreed. "But we are not in a desperate case. We have food, I have my rifle, and it will be possible to make a raft and float down the river until we meet your uncle's people."
The girl looked at the river doubtfully. "What sort of control shall we have over a raft?"
"Well," he said, "I should make a steering oar."