"They couldn't have seen the firelight," returned Dick, with a sorry shake of his head. "It beats all where they went to, doesn't it?" "I've been a-thinking that maybe they went on ahead, Dick." "Ahead? That they somehow passed us?" "Yes; while we were lookin' for 'em. They may be up at B'ar Pond now, waitin' for us." "Do you advise going up there?" "We might as well. We can put up a post here, with a message for 'em--in case they do come this way." "That's an idea, and we can put up other posts, too. Then, if they strike our trail, they'll be sure to go straight in following us." And Dick's face brightened a bit. John Barrow was already preparing breakfast, and he agreed with Dick to leave some cooked meat in a cloth tied to the top of the pole the youth erected not far from the fire. On the cloth they pinned a note, telling of the direction to Bear Pond, and asking Tom and Sam to follow and fire two shots, a minute apart, as a signal. It was a clear day and the sun, shining over the mountain tops, made the snow and ice glitter like pearls and diamonds. There was no wind, so the journey toward Bear Pond was far from unpleasant. They moved slowly, dragging the sled behind them, and searching to the right and the left for some trace of the missing Rovers. "I don't believe they came up here," said Dick after half the distance to the pond had been covered, "I don't see the least trace of any human being, although I've seen the footprints of several wild animals." "The wind might have covered the tracks during the night," was John Barrow's hopeful response. "I'd rather lose the treasure, even if it is worth thousands, than have anything happen to Sam and Tom." Just before noon they came to a point in the river where it divided into several branches. "We'll stop here and put up another sign pole," said the guide. "Remember what I said? All these streams run into the pond and into Perch River. Now, which one you want, at tudder end, I don't know." "Which is the largest branch?" "Can't say, exactly. This one an' the one yonder are about the same size, and that one aint much smaller." "Well, which do you suppose was the largest years ago?" "Can't say that neither, although that one yonder might have been, by the looks o' the banks." "Then let us start on that one. And if that fails us, we can then try the others." They skated to the stream in question and erected a pole in the middle of the ice, upon which a second note was posted. Having gone to the trouble of chopping a hole for the pole, John Barrow suggested they might try their hand at fishing. "Might as well stay here a while," he said. "If they are behind us, they may catch up." Dick was willing, and soon a line was baited and let down into the hole. It was in the water only a few seconds when the guide felt a bite and drew up a fine fish, weighing at least half a pound.