Dick was conscious of a feeling of relief to learn something of the intruder’s identity. At least, he was not one of Govereau’s men. Then Dick felt Toma’s face brushing close to his own.
“No like him,” breathed the guide in a scarcely audible whisper. “Ever’body watch out. See him one time before with Govereau. He come to find out if you and Sandy here.”
Toma drew back quickly as the stranger’s gaze turned again in their direction.
Dick Kent had no reason to doubt that Toma’s stealthily imparted information concerning the true identity of Bill Watson was correct. The man had been sent by Govereau. His story of the long trek from Twin Brothers Creek was a deliberate falsehood intended to deceive Dick and his friends. He was here as a spy to carry out certain instructions from Govereau, the accomplishment of which would probably result disastrously to their expedition.
In a few minutes following Toma’s whispered warning, Dick thought swiftly. Their safety and the success of their plans depended upon immediate action. Something had to be done before Watson became aware that anyone suspected him.
The first step, of course, was to discover some way to acquaint Sandy and Raoul with the stranger’s duplicity. This, of course, must be accomplished secretly, and in a manner that would not arouse Watson’s slightest suspicion.
“If only on some pretext I could get the two of them outside,” thought Dick, “the rest would be easy. Four of us would have no difficulty in taking him prisoner. We would bind him hand and foot and then Raoul could keep him here several days while Sandy, Toma and I continued our journey with the dog team.”
Annette entered from the adjoining room at Raoul’s summons and began removing the dishes from the table, in preparation for the meal for Watson, Toma and Dick. Watson now occupied a chair at one side of the room, and sat directly facing Sandy. Raoul had moved forward and was assisting his sister with her task, while Toma, like a restless spirit, remained unseated, occasionally changing his position from sheer nervousness.
“I ain’t had very much to eat today,” Watson informed them, producing an evil-smelling pipe and lighting it with the stub of a match. “Been too busy mushing to think about it. Trail heavy all the way, too.”