The onions came, and when thanks had been offered Eli tasted his first potato.

“They is fine, now!  Wonderful fine eatin’,” he declared.

“Try an onion, now.  They’s fine, too,” Thomas urged.

Eli took an onion.

“She has a strange smell,” he observed before biting into it.

Eli took a liberal mouthful of the onion.  He began to chew it.  A strained look spread over his face.  Tears filled his eyes.  But Eli was brave, and he never flinched.

“’Tis fine, I like un wonderful fine,” Eli volunteered presently, adding, “if she didn’t burn so bad.”

“Take just a bit at a time,” advised Thomas, laughing heartily, “and eat un with bread or potaters and you won’t notice the burn of un.”

Presently Eli told of his experiences with Indian Jake, and Andy told of the tracks he had seen under the window, and all of the boys told of what had happened on the island, the theft of the boat, the tracks of the nailed boots and the discovery of the boat at Fort Pelican.

Then Eli made an announcement that again laid the burden of suspicion more strongly than ever upon Indian Jake.

“I were workin’ at the lumber camps a week this summer helpin’ they out,” said Eli.  “Whilst I were there Indian Jake comes and trades a pair of skin boots with one of the lumber men for a pair of their boots, the kind with nails in un.  He the same as says he has the fur, and ’twere he took un.”

“Injun Jake wears skin boots when he come to our camp on Flat P’int,” said David.

“Aye, ‘tis likely,” admitted Eli.  “He’d be wearin’ skin boots in the canoe, whatever.  The nailed boots would be hard on the canoe.  He uses the nailed boots trampin’ about, but he’d change un when he travels in his canoe.”

The whole question was canvassed pro and con, and due consideration given to the length of time that Indian Jake must have consumed in passing from Horn’s Bight to Flat Point.  This was alone sufficient in the mind of Thomas and the boys to lift all suspicion from Indian Jake, but Eli still held stubbornly to the opposite view.

Two days later, and on the eve of Thomas’s departure for the trails, Doctor Joe returned.  Lem had so far recovered that a further stay at Horn’s Bight was unnecessary.

Thomas and Doctor Joe quietly discussed the shooting incident.  Lem, it appeared, had later decided that he may have been shot much earlier in the afternoon than sundown.  What had occurred had fallen into the hazy uncertainty of a dream.

“What kind of a rifle does Indian Jake use?” asked Doctor Joe.

“A thirty-eight fifty-five,” said Thomas.

Doctor Joe drew from his pocket the bullet extracted from Lem’s wound.  Thomas examined it critically.

“There’s no doubtin’ ’tis a thirty-eight fifty-five,” he admitted.  “’Tis true Injun Jake gets a pair of nailed boots like the lumber folk wears.  But Injun Jake’ll tell me whether ’twere he shot Lem.  Injun Jake’ll be fair about un with me whatever.  ’Tis hard for me to believe he did un.  If he did, he’ll be gone from the Nascaupee when I gets there.  If he didn’t, I’ll find he waitin’!”