"Here," answered Walter, with a sigh of relief.
"The captain not here yet?" asked his chum, fearfully, as he found his way to his side.
"No," said Walter sadly, "and I am sure something must have happened to him. I am off to search for him as soon as it's light enough to see."
"And I am going with you," Charley declared.
"You are not," said his chum, decidedly. "You are too weak for such a trip yet. You would only make my task harder. You have no business even to be out in this night air and dew. It may bring your fever back on you."
"I could not rest inside when I saw your bed and the captain's empty and heard the tolling in the air."
"What do you suppose it really is, Charley?" asked his chum, eagerly. "It cannot be produced by anything human. Remember the captain's saying that it had been tolling this way longer than the oldest Indian could remember back."
"It's a bell," declared his chum, a trifle uneasily. "Nothing else could produce those tones and that regular tolling."
"Charley," and Walter's voice lowered with the horror of the thought, "the captain said it tolled all night when the chief died, and now the captain himself is gone and the awful thing goes on as though it would never stop."
Charley, with an effort shook off the feeling of dread that was fast stealing over him.