Down to the lake the trio quickly made their way, and then, with long, swinging strides, began to skim swiftly over the frozen surface. As they approached the cabin, many eager looks were cast toward it.
"There's somebody at the door now," panted Dave Brandon.
A dark figure had appeared, and an instant later a hail reached their ears, which was answered by a lusty chorus from the skaters.
"I hope I haven't put you fellows to any inconvenience, or given you a scare," said Fulmer Robson, as the trio breathlessly approached.
"Nothing has happened, I hope?" panted Tom.
"No—nothing serious. But come inside, boys, and I'll tell you all about it."
The interior of the cabin had been made comfortable and cozy. In one corner was a stove, while several rude seats were distributed around. Against one wall stood a long table.
"Make yourselves comfortable," said Robson, drawing a stool alongside the stove, which was sending forth a pleasant heat. "I would have come over to your camp," he added, "but I have a bad headache. What I wanted you for is this. There's a pack of wolves around the neighborhood, and I thought you ought to know it."
"Wolves?" echoed Tom Clifton, paling a trifle.
"Yes! We had a sight of them yesterday afternoon—not far from here, too. A pack of the brutes were after a deer. Heydon and I had reached the top of a hill when we discovered them, and, as we had a field-glass, we saw the whole thing."