They struck off along the valley, moving rapidly over the snow in the direction indicated by the cryptogram.
"Hello!" exclaimed Sam, suddenly. "Smoke—rising above that copse of trees—see it?"
"Right you are," returned Bob. "What do you think, now, 'Hatchet'?"
"Tell you later," grinned John, not in the least abashed.
Between the trees, a glimpse of a cabin was caught, and when the boys reached a clearing, they saw before them a substantial log structure, with a single window. From a stovepipe issued a whirling column of smoke.
"Hurrah!" cried Bob. "We didn't get left after all."
As he spoke, the door of the cabin was thrown open, and a tall, wiry-looking man, with a tawny moustache and stubby beard, appeared on the threshold.
"Powerful glad to see you, boys!" he exclaimed, heartily. "Honest Injun, though—never thought you know'd enough or would take the trouble ter git here. I'm John Yardsley, hunter an' trapper, at your service."