“Certainly not,” said Elmer, at the same time thrusting the queer knife into the other’s hand, eagerly stretched out to receive it.
All of them could not help but notice how his hand trembled violently from some sort of emotion as the fingers closed about the haft of the knife. Evidently there was some element about the find of Elmer that affected Amos Codling. He turned the knife over, and stared hard at the buckhorn handle as though fairly fascinated, while the other three watched him with surprise bordering on amazement.
While the trio continued to stand there gaping, Amos hastily thrust the object back into Elmer’s hand. He almost acted as though shuddering at its touch, and anxious to get it out of his possession.
“Guess—I’ll go and lie down for a bit,” he managed to say in a fairly steady voice. “I’ve overdone it in tramping to-day, and feel worn out. Don’t bother about me, boys; I’ll—be all right soon.”
With these words he stalked hurriedly into the cabin.
CHAPTER IX
THE RIGHT KIND OF PALS
“Why, whatever can be ailing Amos?” Perk said softly, immediately after the strange boy had vanished from view inside the cabin.
Elmer held up a warning finger.
“Whatever you say, speak in a whisper, boys,” he went on to remark.
“Gee whiz! but here’s another mystery looming up!” gasped Wee Willie. “Why, Elmer, he seemed to recognize that old knife, don’t you think?”