"It wasn't an Indian who did it," he decided. "No Indian would have left so valuable a weapon behind. An Indian would have robbed his victim of everything that was worth stealing, and would probably have taken his scalp. He would almost certainly have appropriated the poor chap's horse. No; it wasn't an Indian."
Dan Medlicott then asked—
"Would a white man—a Canadian—have been any more likely to leave the dagger behind as evidence against himself?"
"I don't feel sure that a white man would use such a weapon in any case," returned Silk. "He'd be much more likely to use his revolver, openly. But, even allowing that the criminal may have been a white Canadian, the dagger may not have been his own. It may have been the property of some one else, who had nothing to do with this crime, and his leaving it behind would provide a convenient false clue, drawing suspicion away from himself."
"Yes, I see," admitted Dan. And, after a pause, he added: "I expect they had a struggle—a fight—back there in the forest?"
"No. There was no struggle," Silk argued. "It was done stealthily, suddenly."
Dan Medlicott did not ask for an explanation of this theory; but he waited, knowing that one would come.
"I've figured it out this way," the sergeant presently resumed. "The two men met each other on the forest trail and decided to make camp together. They hobbled their ponies, and went on foot in among the trees to fix up their camping place. They made a fire beside a stream, boiled some water, and made tea. I saw the ashes of their fire, the tea leaves, and some bacon rind. I found a crust of bread, with teeth marks on it. They were very even teeth; not the teeth of Henri Jolicœur, which were crooked and broken."
"They seem to have been friendly enough, anyway," remarked Dan, "eating together and meaning to camp together."