Dick’s sudden, startled cry interrupted. “What was that at the window!”
“I didn’t see anything,” whispered Sandy.
“Sure you weren’t imagining something?” said the trader.
“I know I saw a face right there a moment ago,” Dick insisted, pointing to a window in the rear of the long store. “It seemed to be an Indian’s face which was covered with hideous scars.”
MacLean walked back and pulled the curtains shut over the window. He returned and went on explaining the location of the cache and the route to be taken to Fort Dunwoody.
Once started, Dick and Sandy were not long in preparing for the trip down the river to Mackenzie’s Landing. They cleaned and oiled their 30.30 Ross rifles, packed a canoe with flour, beans, bacon, coffee, salt, sugar and camp utensils, and saw that they were well supplied with ammunition.
On their last trip to the canoe from the storehouse, Sandy, too, had a singular surprise. But he did not cry out. Instead, he called softly to Dick, who was a little ahead of him.
“I saw the same face you saw behind those boxes over there on the landing,” Sandy said tensely. “Make believe we didn’t notice anything. Then we’ll pick up our rifles and walk down the river till we get where we can see behind the boxes.”
“All right,” Dick replied cooly, his dark eyes gleaming as they always did at the promise of excitement.
“Don’t shoot. Capture him,” Dick added, as they deposited their packs into the canoe, picked up their rifles and started off down the river bank, their eyes bent to the left.
When they had advanced far enough to see behind the boxes, they turned and looked. The face was gone! There was no one behind the packing boxes.
Sandy scratched his head. “Blame it, I know I saw somebody watching us.”
“Come on, we’ll look closer.” Dick led the way forward and they examined all the boxes, but found each one empty.
“Those Indians can disappear mighty suddenly,” Sandy said. “Let’s tell Mr. MacLean.”
They hurried back to the store. The trader plainly was deeply concerned over what they had to tell. “I tell you, boys, I hadn’t ought to let you make this trip,” he said, pacing back and forth. “Henderson has men here that I know nothing about. They say he has secret operatives all over the northern frontier. Sandy’s uncle never would forgive me if anything happened to you fellows. But I don’t see what else I can do. The mounted police must be notified.”