“Come on in, boys!”
The other three appeared, and Ballard went to meet them. Denis watched their meeting and saw that Ballard was evidently describing what he had found in the cabin. The other three men broke into strident laughter—and that was a bad sign.
Denis rose and walked to the door, pausing just outside. All four turned to gaze at him, and he held up a hand.
“Just a moment, my friends,” he called pleasantly. “Do you see that stump, twenty feet to your right?”
The stump which he indicated was small, and from one side a jagged splinter of wood stood up for six inches. It was white spruce, plain to see, only a hundred feet from the shack.
“Just watch that stump for a moment,” went on Denis.
Lifting his rifle to his shoulder, he sighted at the splinter and pressed the trigger—seemingly without an instant’s hesitation. At the crack the splinter seemed to blow away into nothing.
“Thank you for your kind attention,” smiled Denis. “That’s all.”
A moment’s silence greeted this display of shooting ability. Denis turned and went back to the bunk, seating himself as before, facing the door.
The four men conferred together. Then, with another laugh, they marched forward to the shack, Ballard in the lead. Denis waited until they came close to the doorway, then he lifted his rifle.