Moisture had sprung out upon Dick’s forehead. He was trembling and hot. Each tiny taper carried them farther and farther on their round of exploration. Finally, Corporal Rand stopped short and threw up his hands in an exasperated gesture.
“Shades of a purple skunk!” he cried out angrily. “There’s nothing here! Pshaw! The place is as clean and bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.”
The disappointment succeeding this announcement was keen. Dick’s shoulders slumped and his head drooped as he turned dejectedly and made his way back to the door. Toma was the only one who had anything to say.
“I tell you something, corporal. Mebbe no fur here now, but all same Murky Nichols use this place to make ’em cache. I know that.”
“He’s right,” broke forth the corporal. “Fur has been stored here. I can detect a familiar odor myself.”
“But how do you explain it?” asked Dick. “You were under the impression that Nichols had a two-year supply of stolen fur here. What has become of it?”
“Unfortunately, I’m no wizard,” Rand answered a little testily, “or I might be able to answer your question. All I know is that Nichols has been shipping fur for the last three or four years. As I told you once before, we believe that a large shipment was taken from here to Seattle by someone, who either purchased the fur in good faith or who is a confederate of Murky’s. Perhaps this person comes up here oftener than we surmised. It may be that he has just recently cleaned out this cache and will return later for the fur now being brought here by pack-train. Of only one thing am I reasonably sure, and that is that this is the place where Nichols sends his shipments.”
“If we wait here, pretty soon pack-train will come. What you think?” Toma raised questioning eyes to the mounted policeman.
“Yes,” said Rand, “the pack-train will come here. We can’t miss it.”
“But what I don’t understand,” Dick spoke hesitatingly, “is why the outlaws haven’t arrived days ago. They were ahead of us when we started. Now we’re ahead of them. How do you explain it, corporal?”
“I can think of only one explanation. The boat from Seattle may not be due here for a week or two. In the interim, the outlaws are putting up somewhere along the trail, where there are better facilities for feeding the men and caring for the dogs and ponies. We must have passed them in the dark.”