They may have gotten wind of the expedition planned by the three boys; and suspicious lest it might be only a cloak to hide some clever deal of the wealthy lumberman, just because his son was in the party, Gabe may have been hired to keep an eye on their movements.
However this might be, there was no sign of any intruder in the camp, and the night passed without an alarm.
On the following morning Teddy paddled off all alone, his mission being to find the settler living near the north-eastern point of the lake, and making some arrangement with him, looking to the packing of their canoes across country.
It was going to be an all-day job, they figured; indeed they would consider themselves fortunate indeed if nightfall found them fully launched upon the stream that after numerous windings emptied into the great White Fish Bay.
The others amused themselves in various ways, Dolph having to strike off some snapshots of the lake camp. How bitterly he regretted that they would have nothing to remind them of all the strange things happening in connection with the two poachers and little Sallie—only the memory of it all, and a wretched fiddle, which Amos was tinkering with every little while, trying to get it in better shape.
When Teddy came back he was evidently in a good humor.
“All fixed, fellows!” he called out, even before landing.
“Then you found our man?” asked Dolph, quite relieved; for he yearned to set eyes on new scenes and had not fancied going back over their course, as must have been the case had a portage been found impossible.