When they were close to the forks, the creak of a wagon reached their ears, and the gas lamps showed them a loaded vehicle just pulling into the Oberon road. This was the first team they had met since leaving Jamestown.
"Say, there!" yelled a man on the wagon. "Slow up a little with that chug cart o' yourn, will ye? My hosses ain't used ter sich sights."
Black lessened the speed and came on more slowly. The wagon was at a standstill, and the horses were snorting and rearing against the pole. The car got past without causing an accident, however, and, a little after three, drew up in front of the post trader's store.
The store was at the foot of a hill which overlooked the lake, and was surrounded by the fort. As was to be expected, the store was dark, and seemed deserted.
"Benner lives in the back part," said Black. "Go around the side of the building, Matt, and knock on the door. You'll not be long getting him up. I'll wait here till I see what luck you have, and then I'll put up the car and bunk down somewhere for the rest of the night."
Matt and McGlory jumped out of their seats and followed around the plank wall of the building. Although it was dark as Egypt in the shadow of the wall, yet they succeeded in locating the door, and pounded a loud summons on its panels.
The post trader was a sound sleeper, and it took three or four minutes to develop any signs of life within the dark store building.
At last, however, they could hear some one stirring around. A light appeared in a window, and a shuffling step was heard approaching the door.
"If you're Injuns," cried an angry voice, "get out! You can come after what you want in the mornin'."
"We're not Indians," said Matt. "Are you Mr. Benner?"