With his share of the furs captured by the end of the trapping season, Indian Jake discharged his old debt with the Company.  This was not sufficient, however, to re-establish confidence in him.  There was a lurking suspicion among them, fostered by Uncle Ben Rudder of Tuggle Bight, the wiseacre and oracle of the Bay, that Indian Jake’s payment of the debt was not prompted by honesty but by some ulterior motive.

Indian Jake emptied his plate.  He refilled it with the last of the stew and again emptied it, in the interim swallowing several cups of hot tea.

“Good stew,” he remarked in appreciation and praise when his meal was finished.  “When were you gettin’ back?”

“I reached The Jug day before yesterday,” said Doctor Joe.

“Huh!” Indian Jake grunted approval, as he puffed industriously at his pipe.  “Where you goin’ now?  To see Lem Horn?”

“No,” Doctor Joe answered, “we’re going to Fort Pelican to get some things I brought in on the mail boat.”

“I been goose huntin’,” Indian Jake explained.  “Not much goose yet.  Too early.  Got four.  Goin’ to The Jug now to give Thomas a hand.  Want to start for Seal Lake soon.  Don’t want to be late.”

“Pop’s thinkin’ to start in a fortnight,” said David.

“Good!” acknowledged Indian Jake.  “Maybe we start sooner.  Start when we’re ready.  I want to go quick.  Have plenty time get there before freeze-up.”

Indian Jake had apparently finished talking.  Doctor Joe and the boys made several attempts to continue the conversation, but only receiving responsive grunts, turned to a discussion of the flag and other scout problems, while Indian Jake was absorbed in his own thoughts.  Presently he rose and proceeded to unroll his bed.

“Plenty of room in the tent,” Doctor Joe invited.  “Better come in with us, Jake.”

“Goin’ early.  Sleep here,” he declined, as he spread a caribou skin upon the ground to protect himself from the damp earth.  Then he produced a Hudson’s Bay Company blanket, once white but now of uncertain shade, and rolling himself in the blanket, with his feet toward the fire, was soon snoring peacefully.

“We won’t trouble to douse the fire,” Doctor Joe suggested presently.  “He wants to sleep by it, and he’ll look after it.  Let’s turn in.”

And with the front of the tent open that they might enjoy the air and profit by the firelight, they were soon snug in their sleeping-bags and as sound asleep as Indian Jake.

“High-o!”

The three boys sat up.  It was broad daylight, and Doctor Joe, on his hands and knees, was looking out of the tent.

“Our visitor has gone, and there’s little wonder, for we’ve been sleeping like bears and it’s broad daylight.  Hurry, lads, or the sun’ll be well up before we get away.”

The boys sprang up and were soon dressed.  The fire had burned low, indicating that Indian Jake had been gone for a considerable time.  A fat goose was hanging from the limb of a tree.  Fastened to it was a piece of birch bark, and scribbled upon the birch bark with a piece of charcoal from the fire, these words: