detail. He repeated all that the inhabitants at Bedford had told him, but
this threw no light on the mystery. Nobody had seen the stranger come into
the place and nobody had seen him depart.

"Wonder where he did come from," mused Dave. "He certainly must have come
from somewhere."

After that the winter days passed slowly. Sam Barringford remained at the
Morris home, occasionally going out alone or with some of the others in
quest of game. He was always glad to have Dave and Henry with him, and they
were likewise delighted to go, for, as my old readers will remember, Sam
Barringford was a famous hunter and rarely came back empty-handed.

One day Henry, who had been out after wild turkeys, came back in a state of
mild excitement. He had seen hoofprints which were strange to him, and he
wanted Barringford's opinion on them.

"They looked something like a deer's," he said, "but were larger."

"Must have been an elk," answered the old frontiersman. "But I allow as how
thar ain't many of them critters around this deestrict."

Henry had come back in the evening, so that the tracks he had discovered
were not inspected by Sam Barringford until the following morning. The pair
went out accompanied by Dave, and all were armed, and supplied with
provisions enough to last two days, if necessary.

The way led up a small hill back of the house and then through a patch of
scrub timber--the best having been cut away when the new cabin was built.
Beyond the scrub timber was a small cliff of rocks and further still a