He went to the door, resolved to tell Mr. Huysman at once of the attempt upon the chest, but he stopped irresolute. The low sounds of talk still came from the dining-room. He was only a boy and his was a most improbable tale. They might think he had been dreaming, though he knew full well that he had seen straight and true. And then Garay was gone, leaving no trace. No, he would not interrupt Mr. Huysman now, but he would talk it over with Tayoga. He found the Onondaga standing among the trees, gazing with rapt vision at his star. "Did Tododaho speak to you?" asked Robert. "He did," replied Tayoga earnestly. "What did he say?" "That the great war will go on, and that you and I and the Great Bear, who is away, will encounter many more perils. The rest is veiled." "And while we take our ease, Tayoga, our enemies are at work." "What does Dagaeoga mean?" "I went into the room containing the chest of drawers, the story of which you read, and found there Garay, the spy, trying to open it." "Dagaeoga does not dream?" "Oh, I thought for a moment or two that I did, but it was reality. Garay escaped through the open window, and, on the lock of the third drawer, were scratches that he left where he had been working with a sharp tool. Come, Tayoga, and look at them." The two went into the house. Robert lighted a lamp for better light, and Tayoga knelt before the drawer, giving it a long and close examination. "Garay is a very clever man," he said at last, "much cleverer, perhaps, than we gave him the credit of being." "I think so too," said Robert. "As events show, he came into this house to obtain the papers in this drawer, and you and I feel quite certain that those papers concern you. And as you saw him and the slaver together, it indicates that they have some plot against you, what I know not. But the papers here have much to do with it." "Do you think I should speak of it to Master Jacobus and Mr. Hardy now?" "I think not, Dagaeoga. Whatever is the mystery about you it is evident that they do not wish to tell you of it yet. So, being what you are, you will not ask them, but wait until such time as they see fit. I think these scratches on the lock were made by the sharp point of a hunting knife. Garay did not succeed in opening it, though it is likely that he would have done so if you had not interrupted him." "When he saw me he was gone like a flash. I did not know a man could skip through a window with so much celerity." "One has to be skillful at such things to carry on the trade of a spy. That is why he could have opened this lock, large and strong as it is, with the point of his hunting knife had he been allowed time, and that is why he flew through the window like a bird when you came upon him." He examined the window, and then laughed a little. "But he did not go without leaving further proof of himself," he said. "Here on the sill is the faintest trace of blood where he bruised his hand or wrist in his rapid flight."