“Tracks of two Indians and one white,” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Tom Ross.  “White is Braxton Wyatt, uv course.  He’s still hangin’ about the Miami village.”

“And perhaps suspecting that we are yet in these parts.”

“Uv course.  An’ maybe thar will be trouble.”

They said no more, but each understood.  Their own trail would be left in the snow, and the sight of it would confirm all the suspicions of Wyatt and the savages.  Some such chance as this they had always expected, and now they prepared to deal with it.  They turned back into the forest, carrying with them the body of the deer, as they were resolved not to abandon it.  Both had noticed that the slight abatement of the cold was not lasting.  In an hour or two it would be as chill as ever, and once more the surface of the snow would be icy.

They stayed several hours in a dense clump of trees and bushes, and then, half walking, half sliding, they resumed their journey, but now they left no trail.  Each also had every sense alert, and nothing could come within sound or sight and not be perceived first by these two wonderful trailers, masters of their craft.  They reached the edge of the lake in the twilight, and then they sped swiftly over the ice to their island home.

“I’m thinking,” said Henry Ware, at a council a little later, “that Braxton Wyatt suspects we’re here.  He, of course, does not believe in the Indian superstitions, and maybe he’ll persuade them to search the island.”

“An’ since they kin come over the ice, we can’t beat ’em off ez easy ez we could ef they came in canoes in the water,” said Shif’less Sol.  “I see trouble ahead fur a tired man.”

Paul had been saying nothing, only sitting in a corner of the hut and listening intently to the others.  Now his face flushed and his eyes sparkled with light, as they would always do whenever a great idea suddenly came to him.

“If Braxton Wyatt undertakes to persuade them there are no ghosts,” he said, “it is for us to persuade them that there are.”

“What do you mean, Paul?” asked Henry.

“We must show the ghosts to them.”

Silence for a half minute followed.  Then Shif’less Sol spoke up.

“Meanin’ ourselves?” he said.

“Yes,” said Paul.

The others looked at his glowing face, and they were impressed.

“Just how?” said Henry.

“If the Miamis come at all, they will come in the night, and that is when ghosts should appear.  I’ll be a ghost and Jim Hart will be another.  The rest of you can lay hidden, ready to use the rifles if they are needed.”

“Well planned!” said Henry Ware.  “We’ll do it.”

CHAPTER XVIII

WHAT THE WARRIORS SAW

A few nights later a strong band of warriors left the Miami village, led by the bold chief, Yellow Panther, and the renegade, Braxton Wyatt.  The party was about thirty in number, and it included the most daring spirits among them.  They were going against the wishes of the aged Gray Beaver, who foresaw only disaster from such a desecration; but Yellow Panther favored the venture, and Braxton Wyatt had urged it for a long time.