And Ralph looked in time to see the ghostly form of the Hooded Man as it slowly passed from view over the hill.
“The Hood!” exclaimed Ralph, in awestruck tones.
“Ay.”
“What’s–what’s he doin’ here?” Ralph asked, more of himself than of his brother. Then he added: “He’s on our trail.”
There was a slight pause.
“It’s somethin’ on her account,” Nick said, at last, with uneasy conviction.
As if actuated by a common thought, both turned and looked back at the hut. Nor was their uneasiness lessened when they beheld Aim-sa standing directly behind them, gazing out across the woodland hollow with eyes distended with a great fear. So absorbed was she that she did not observe the men’s scrutiny, and only was her attention drawn to them when she heard Nick’s voice addressing her. Then her lids drooped in confusion and she hastily turned back to the house. But Nick was not to be denied.
“Ye’ve seen him,” he said sharply; “him wi’ the hood?” And he made a motion with his hand which described the stranger’s headgear.
Aim-sa nodded, and Nick went on.
“We seen him up north. On the trail to the Moosefoot.”