"It's just as you say, Jack, my lad," asserted the big foreman of the truck company, warmly. "I stood all your abuse, Mr. Briggs, when it was directed against myself, but I advise you to go slow about charging any of these young chaps with setting fire to your store. All of us have seen how they worked trying to save your property, sir. It is a poor return you are making for their efforts."

Others shared this opinion, and realizing that he did not have a single friend in the crowd, Mr. Briggs had the good sense to keep his further suspicions to himself. But that he was still far from convinced of Bobolink's innocence could be seen by the malevolent glances he shot toward the boy from time to time, while the scouts stood and watched the final work of the fire-fighters.

The last spark had been extinguished, and all danger was past. Many of the townspeople began to leave for their comfortable homes, because it was bitterly cold at that hour of the night, with a coating of snow on the ground.

Paul had come up during the excitement, but somehow had failed to join the rest of the scouts until later on. The other scouts thought that doubtless he had found something to claim his attention elsewhere; but he came up to them about the time they were thinking of taking their departure.

His indignation was strong when he heard what a foolish accusation the almost distracted storekeeper had made against Bobolink. Still Paul was a sensible lad, and he realized that Mr. Briggs could hardly be held responsible for what he said at such a time.

"Better forget all about it, Bobolink," he told the other, who was still fretting under the unmerited charge. "Perhaps when he cools off and realizes what a serious thing he has said, Mr. Briggs will publicly take his words back, and will thank you fellows in the bargain."

"But how came it you were so slow in getting to the fire, Paul?" asked Tom Betts; for, as a rule, the patrol leader could be counted on to arrive with the first.

Paul laughed at that.

"I knew you'd be wondering," he said, and then went on to explain. "For once I was caught in a trap, and, much as I wanted to get out and run, I just had to hold my horses for a spell. You see, after you had gone father asked me to hold something for him while he was attending to it, and I couldn't very well drop it until he was through."

"Whew! it sure must have been something pretty important to keep Paul Morrison from running to a fire," chuckled Frank.

"It was important," came the ready reply. "In fact, it was a man's broken arm I was holding. Ben Holliday was brought in just after you boys left. He had fallen in some way and sustained a compound fracture of his left arm. Neither of the men who were along with him could be counted on to assist, so father called on me to lend a hand. And that's why I was late at the Briggs' store fire."

"You missed a great sight, Paul, let me tell you," affirmed Bluff.

"Yes, and you missed hearing a friend of yours called a fire-bug, too, in the bargain," grunted Bobolink. "And after I'd sweated and toiled like fun to drag a lot of his old junk out of reach of fire and flood! That's what makes me sore. Now, if I'd just stood around and laughed, like a lot of the fellows did, it wouldn't have been so bad."

"Listen!" said Jud Elderkin, lowering his voice, "when old Briggs got the notion that some bad boy set his store on fire in a spirit of revenge, maybe he wasn't so far wrong after all."

"Say, what are you hinting at now, Jud?" gasped Bobolink, suspiciously. "You know as well as anything I was along with the crowd every minute of the time."

"Sure I do, Bobolink," asserted the other, blandly. "I wasn't referring to you at all when I said that. There are others in the swim. You're not the only pebble on the beach, you understand."

"Now I get you, Jud!" Tom Betts exclaimed. "And let me say, I've been having little suspicions of my own leading in that same direction."

"We found Hank, Jud Mabley and Sim Jeffreys on the spot when we got here, you all remember, and they seemed tickled to death because it was the Briggs' place that was on fire," continued Jud.

Even Paul and Jack seemed impressed, though too cautious to accept the fact until there was more proof. Already the foolishness of making an unsupported accusation had been brought home to them, and the scout-master felt that it was his duty to warn Jud and Tom against talking too recklessly of their suspicion.

"Better go slow about it, fellows, no matter what you think," he told them. "The law does not recognize suspicion as counting for anything, unless you have some sort of proof to back it up. It may be those fellows are guilty, for they have been going from bad to worse of late; but until you can show evidence leading that way, button up your lips."

"Guess you're right there, Paul," admitted Jud. "Some of us are apt to be too previous when we get a notion in our heads. But Mr. Briggs is dead sure it was no accident, whether the fire was started by the Lawson crowd or some one else."

"I heard him say he suspected that his safe had been broken open," declared Tom Betts just then, "and that the fire might have been an after thought meant to hide a robbery."

"Whew! that's going some, I must say, if that Lawson gang has come down to burglary, as well as arson," observed Spider Sexton, seriously.

"You'll have to get Jud Mabley away from his cronies mighty quick then, Paul, if you hope to pull him out of the fire," commented Frank.

"Well, for one I've yet to be convinced that they had anything to do with the fire," Paul told them.

"But we know they've had trouble with Mr. Briggs plenty of times," urged another of the scouts.

"And you must remember they were here when we arrived, which looks suspicious," added Bobolink.

"Appearances are often deceitful, Bobolink, as you yourself know to your cost," the scout-master remarked. "If forced to explain their being on the spot so early perhaps they could prove an alibi as well as you. But come, since the fire is all over, and it's pretty shivery out here now, suppose we get back home."

No one offered any objection to this proposal. Indeed, several of the scouts who had worked hard enough to get into a perspiration, were moving about uneasily as though afraid of taking cold.

When the boys left the scene the crowd had thinned out very much, for the wintry night made standing around unpleasant. Besides, most of the people were disgusted with the actions of old Mr. Briggs, and cared very little what his loss might prove to be.

At the time the scouts turned away and headed for another section of the town, the old storekeeper was entering the still smoking building, desirous of examining his safe to ascertain whether it showed signs of having been tampered with.

Once again the boys stood on the corner ready to separate into several factions as their homes chanced to lie.

"There, the fire is out; that's back-taps!" said Tom Betts.

"You're off your base, Tom," Bluff disagreed, "for that's the town clock striking the hour of midnight."

"Sure enough," agreed Tom, when four and five had sounded.

They counted aloud until the whole twelve had struck.

"That means it's Sunday morning. Merry Christmas, Paul, and the rest!" cried Frank.

"The same to you, and good-night, fellows!" called out Paul, as with Jack he strode away.



CHAPTER XII

THE ICEBOAT SQUADRON

At exactly ten o'clock, on Monday morning, December 26th, Bobolink sounded the "Assembly" on his bugle. A great crowd had gathered on the bank of the frozen Bushkill. For the most part this was made up of boys and girls, but there were in addition a few parents who wanted to see the start of the scouts for their midwinter camp.

Up to this time their outings had taken place in a more genial period of the year, and not a few witnessed their departure with feelings of uneasiness. This winter had already proved its title to the stormiest known in a quarter of a century, and at the last hour more than one parent questioned the wisdom of allowing the boys to take the bold tour.

However, there were no "recalls," and as for the ten lads themselves, to look at their eager faces it could be seen that they entertained no doubts regarding their ability to cope with whatever situations arose.

The five iceboats were in line, and could be compared with so many fleet race horses fretting to make a speedy start. Each had various mysterious packages fastened securely, leaving scanty room for the pair of "trippers."

"After all we're going to have a fine day of it," remarked Tom Betts, as he gave a last look to the running gear of his new ice craft, and impatiently waited for Paul to give the word to be off.

"Luck seems to be with us in the start," admitted Bobolink, who was next in line. "I only hope it won't change and slap us too hard after we get up there in the woods."

"I heard this morning that the Lawson crowd had started overland, with packs on their backs," Phil Towns stated.

"Oh! we're bound to rub up against that lot before we're done with it," prophesied Bobolink. "But if they give us any trouble I miss my guess if they won't be sorry for it."

"Scouts can take a heap," said Tom, "but there is a limit to their forbearance; and once they set out to inflict proper punishment they know how to rub it in good and hard."

"Do you really believe there's any truth in that report we heard about Mr. Briggs' safe being found broken open and cleaned out?" asked Phil.

"There's no question about it," replied Bobolink. "Though between you and me I don't think the robbers got much of a haul, for the old man is too wise to keep much money around."

"I heard that Hank Lawson and his crowd were spending money pretty freely when they got ready early this morning to start," suggested Tom.

Jack, who had listened to all this talk, took occasion to warn his fellow-scouts, just as Paul had done on the other occasion.

"Better not say that again, Tom, because we have no means of knowing how they got the money. Some of them are often supplied with larger amounts than seem to be good for them. Unless you know positively, don't start the snowball rolling downhill, because it keeps on growing larger every time some one tells the story."

"All right, Jack," remarked Tom, cheerfully; "what you say goes. Besides, as we expect to be away a couple of weeks there isn't going to be much chance to tell tales in Stanhope."

They waited impatiently for the word to go. Paul was making a last round in order to be sure that nothing had been overlooked, for caution was strongly developed in his character, as well as boldness.

There were many long faces among the other boys belonging to Stanhope Troop, for they would have liked above all things to be able to accompany their lucky comrades. The lure of the open woods had a great attraction for them, and on previous outings every one had enjoyed such glorious times that now all felt as though they were missing a grand treat.

At last Paul felt that nothing else remained to be done, and that he could get his expedition under way without any scruple. There were many skaters on the river, but a clear passage down-stream had been made for the start of the iceboat squadron.

A few of the strongest skaters had gone on ahead half an hour back, intending to accompany the adventurous ten a portion of the way. They hoped to reach the point where the old canal connected the Bushkill river with the Radway, and a long time back known as Jackson's Creek.

Here they would await the coming of the fleet iceboats, and lend what assistance was required in making the passage of this crooked waterway.

When once again the bugle sounded the cheering became more violent than ever, for it was known that the moment of departure had arrived.

Tom Betts had been given the honor of being the first in the procession. His fellow passenger was Jack Stormways. As the new Speedaway shot from its mooring place and started down the river it seemed as though the old football days had come again, such a roar arose from human lungs, fish-horns, and every conceivable means for making a racket.

A second craft quickly followed in the wake of the leader, then a third, the two others trailing after, until all of them were heading down-stream, rapidly leaving Stanhope behind.

The cheering of the throng grew fainter as the speedy craft glided over the ice, urged on by a fair wind. There could be little doubt that the ten scouts who were undertaking the expedition were fully alive to the good fortune that had come their way.

Tom Betts was acknowledged to be the most skilful skipper, possibly barring Paul, along the Bushkill. He seemed to know how to get the best speed out of an iceboat, and at the same time avoid serious accidents, such as are likely to follow the reckless use of such frail craft.

It was thoughtful of Paul to let Tom lead the procession, when by all rights, as the scout-master, Paul might properly have assumed that position. Tom must have been considering this fact, for as he and Jack flew along, crouching under the big new sail that was drawing splendidly, he called out to his comrade:

"Let me tell you it was mighty white in Paul to assign me to this berth, Jack, when by rights everybody expected him to lead off. I appreciate it, too, I want you to understand."

"Oh! that's just like Paul," he was told. "He always likes to make other fellows feel good. And for a chap who unites so many rare qualities in his make-up Paul is the most unassuming fellow I ever knew. Why, you can see that he intentionally put himself in last place, and picked out Spider Sexton's boat to go on, because he knew it was the poorest of the lot."

"But all the same the old Glider is doing her prettiest to-day and keeping up with the procession all right," asserted Tom, glancing back.

"That's because Paul's serving as skipper," asserted Jack, proudly. "He could get speed out of any old tub you ever saw. But then we're not trying to do any racing on this trip, you remember, Tom."

"Not much," assented the other, quickly. "Paul impressed it on us that to-day we must keep it in mind that 'safety first' is to be our motto. Besides, with all these bundles of grub and blankets and clothes-bags strapped and roped to our boats a fellow couldn't do himself justice, I reckon."

"No more he could, Tom. But we're making good time for all that, and it isn't going to be long before we pass Manchester, and reach the place where that old abandoned canal creeps across two miles of country, more or less, to the Radway."

"I can see the fellows who skated down ahead of us!" announced Tom, presently.

"Yes, they're waiting to go through the canal with us," assented Jack. "Wallace Carberry said they feared we might have a bad time of it getting the iceboats over to the Radway, and he corralled a few fellows with the idea of lending a hand."

"They hate the worst kind to be left out of this camping game," remarked Tom, "and want to see the last they can of us."

A few minutes later and the skipper of the leading iceboat brought his speedy craft to a halt close to the shore, where several scouts awaited them. The other four craft soon drew up near by, thus finishing what they were pleased to call the "first leg" of the novel cruise.

It was decided to work their way through the winding creek the best way possible. In places it would be found advisable to push the boats, while now and then as an open stretch came along they might take advantage of a favorable wind to do a little sailing.

Two miles of this sort of thing would not be so bad. As Bobolink sang out, the worst was yet to come when they made the Radway, and had to ascend against a head wind that would necessitate skilful tacking to avoid an overturn.



CHAPTER XIII

ON THE WAY

"It all comes back to me again, when I see that frozen mud bank over there, fellows," called out Frank Savage, after they had been pushing their way along the rough canal for some time.

"How many times we did get stuck on just such a mud bank," laughed Paul. "I can shut my eyes even now, and imagine I see some of us wading alongside, and helping to get our motor boats out of the pickle. I think Bobolink must dream of it every once in a while, for he had more than his share of the fun."

"It was bully fun all right, say what you will!" declared the boy mentioned, "though like a good many other things that are past and gone, distance lends enchantment to the view."

"That's right," echoed Tom Betts, "you always seem to forget the discomforts when you look back to that kind of thing, and remember only the jolly good times. I've come home from hunting as tired as a dog, and vowed it would be a long while before I ever allowed myself to be tempted to go again. But, fellows, if a chum came along the next day and asked me I'd fall to the bait."

A chance to do a little sailing interrupted this pleasant exchange of reminders. But it was for a very short distance only that they were able to take advantage of a favoring breeze; then the boys found it necessary to push the boats again.

Some of them strapped on their skates and set out to draw the laden iceboats as the most logical way of making steady progress.

"What are two measly miles, when such a glorious prospect looms up ahead of us?" cried Sandy. "We ought to be at the old Radway by noon."

"Yes," added Bobolink, quickly. "And I heard Paul saying just now that as we were in no great hurry he meant to call a halt there for an hour or more. We can start a fire and have a bully little warm lunch, just to keep us from starving between now and nightfall, when a regular dinner will be in order."

Of course, this set some of the boys to making fun of Bobolink's well known weakness. The accused scout took it all as good natured joking. Besides, who could get angry when engaged in such a glorious outing as that upon which they were now fully embarked? Certainly not the even-tempered Bobolink.

From time to time the boys recognized various spots where certain incidents had happened to them when on their never-to-be-forgotten motor boat cruise of the preceding summer.

It was well on towards noon when they finally reached the place where the old connecting canal joined the Radway river. It happened, fortunately for the plans of the scouts, that both streams were rather high at the setting in of winter, which accounted for an abundance of ice along the connecting link.

"Looky there, Paul. Could you find a better place for a fire than in that cove back of the point?" demanded Bobolink, evidently bent on reminding the commander-in-chief of his promise.

"You're right about that," admitted Paul, "for the trees and bushes on the point act as a wind break. Head over that way, boys, and let's make a stop for refreshments."

"Good for you, Paul!" cried Spider Sexton, jubilantly. "I skipped the best part of my usual feed this morning, I was so excited and afraid I might get left; and I want to warn you all I'm as empty right now as a drum. So cook enough for an extra man or two when you're about it."

"Huh! you'll take a hand in that job yourself, Spider," asserted Bobolink, pretending to look very stern, though he knew there would be no lack of volunteers for preparing that first camp meal. Enthusiasm always runs high when boys first go into the woods, but later on it gets to be an old story, and some of the campers have to be drummed into harness.

A fire was soon started, for every one of the scouts knew all about the coaxing of a blaze, no matter how damp the wood might seem. The scouts had learned their lesson in woodcraft, and took pride in excelling one another on occasion.

Then a bustling ensued as several cooks busied themselves in frying ham, as well as some potatoes that had already been boiled at home. When several onions had been mixed with these, after being first fried in a separate pan, the odors that arose were exceedingly palatable to the hungry groups that stood around awaiting the call to lunch.

Coffee had been made in the two capacious tin pots, for on such a bracing day as this they felt they needed something to warm their systems. Plenty of condensed milk had been brought along, and a can of this was opened by puncturing the top in two places. Thus, if not emptied at a sitting, a can can be sealed up again, and kept over for another occasion.

"As good a feed as I ever want to enjoy!" was the way Bobolink bubbled over as he reached for his second helping, meanwhile keeping a wary eye on the boy who had warned them as to his enormous capacity for food.

"It is mighty fine," agreed Wallace Carberry, "but somehow, fellows, it seems like a funeral feast to me, because it's the last time I'll be able to join you. Never felt so bad in my life before. Shed a few tears for me once in a while, won't you?"

The others laughingly promised to accommodate him. Truth to tell, most of them did feel very sorry for Wallace and the other boys whose parents had debarred them from all this pleasure before them.

When the hour was up another start was made. This time they headed up the erratic Radway. The skaters still clung to them, bent on seeing all they could of those whom they envied so much.

Progress was sometimes very tedious, because the wind persisted in meeting them head on, and it is not the easiest task in the world to force an iceboat against a negative breeze. Tacking had to be resorted to many times, and each mile they gained was well won.

The boys enjoyed the exhilarating exercise, however, and while there were a few minor accidents nothing serious interfered with their progress.

It was two o'clock when they sighted Lake Tokala ahead of them. Shouts of joy from those in advance told the glad story to the toilers in the rear. This quickened their pulses, and made them all feel that the worst was now over.

When the broad reaches of the lake had been gained they were able to make speed once more. It was the best part of the entire trip—the run across the wide lake. And how the sight of Cedar Island brought back most vividly recollections of the happy and exciting days spent there not many months before!

Wallace and his three chums still held on. They declared they were bound to stick like "leeches" until they had seen the expedition safely across the lake. What if night did overtake them before they got back to the Bushkill again? There would be a moon, and skating would be a pleasure under such favorable conditions.

"Don't see any signs of another wild man on the island, do you, Jack?" asked Tom Betts, as the Speedaway fairly flew past the oasis in the field of ice that was crowned by a thick growth of cedars, which had given the island its name.

"Nothing doing in that line, Tom," replied the other with a laugh. "Such an adventure happens to ordinary fellows only once in a life-time. But then something just as queer may be sprung on us in the place we're heading for."

The crossing of Tokala Lake did not consume a great deal of time, for the wind had shifted just enough to make it favor them more or less much of the way over.

"I c'n see smoke creeping up at the point Paul's heading for," announced Tom Betts. "That must come from the cabin we heard had been built here since we had our outing on the lake."

"We were told that it stood close to the mouth of the creek which we have to ascend some miles," remarked Jack. "And this man is the one we think to leave our boats in charge of while away in the woods."

"I only hope then that he'll be a reliable keeper," observed Tom, seriously, "for it would nearly break my heart if anything happened to the Speedaway now. I've only tried her out a few times, but she gives promise of beating anything ever built in this section of the country. I don't believe I could duplicate her lines again if I tried."

"Don't borrow trouble," Jack told him. "We'll dismantle the boats all we can before we leave them, and the chances are ten to one we'll find them O.K. when we come out of the woods two weeks from now. But here we are at the place, and the boys who mean to return home will have to say good-bye."



CHAPTER XIV

THE RING OF STEEL RUNNERS

As the little flotilla of ice yachts drew up close to the shore, the sound of boyish laughter must have been heard, for a man was seen approaching. He came from the direction of the cabin which they had sighted among the trees, and from the mud and stone chimney of which smoke was ascending straight into the air—a promise of continued good weather.

The boys were climbing up the bank when he reached them. So far as they could see he appeared to be a rough but genial man, and Paul believed they could easily trust him to take care of the boats while away.

"I suppose you are Abe Turner, spoken of by Mr. Garrity?" was the way Paul addressed the man, holding out his hand in friendly greeting.

The other's face relaxed into a smile. Evidently he liked this manly looking young chap immediately, as most people did, for Paul had a peculiarly winning way about him.

"That's my name, and I reckon now you must be Paul," said the other.

"Why, how did you know that?" demanded Bobolink, in surprise.

"Oh! I had a letter from Mr. Thomas Garrity telling me all about you boys, and ordering me to do anything you might want. You see he owns all the country around here, an' I'm holding the fort until spring, when there's going to be some big timber cutting done. We expect to get it to market down the Radway."

The scouts exchanged pleased looks.

"Bully for Mr. Thomas Garrity!" shouted Tom Betts, "he's all to the good, if his conversion to liking boys did come late in life. He's bound to make up for all the lost time now. Three cheers, fellows, for our good friend!"

They were given with a rousing will, and the echoes must have alarmed some of the shy denizens of the snow forest, for a fox was seen to scurry across an open spot, and a bevy of crows in some not far distant oak trees started to caw and call.

"All we want you to do for us, Abe," explained Paul, "is to take good care of our five iceboats, which we will have to leave with you."

"And we might as well tell you in the beginning," added Bobolink, "that several tough chaps from our town have come up here to spend some time, just from learning of our plans."

"Yes," went on Tom Betts, the anxious one, "and nothing would tickle that Hank Lawson and his gang so much as to be able to sneak some of our boats away, or, failing that, to smash them into kindling wood with an axe."

Abe nodded his shaggy head and smiled.

"I've heard some things about Hank Lawson," he observed. "But take it from me that if he comes around my shanty trying any of his tricks he'll get a lesson he'll never forget. I'll see to it that your boats are kept safe. I've two dogs off hunting in the woods just now, but I'll fasten 'em nigh where you store the boats. I'm sorry for the boy who gets within the grip of Towser's teeth, yes, or Clinch's either."

That was good news to Tom, who smiled as though finally satisfied that there was really nothing to be feared.

"Sorry to say we'll have to be leaving you, boys," announced Wallace just then, as he started to go the rounds with a mournful face, shaking hands with each lucky scout whom he envied so much.

"Hope you have the time of your lives," called out another of those who were debarred from enjoying the outing.

These boys started away, looking back from time to time as they crossed wide Lake Tokala. Finally, with a last parting salute, they darted into the mouth of the canal and were lost to view.

There was an immediate bustle, for time was flitting, and much remained to be done. The five owners of the iceboats proceeded to dismantle them, which was not a tedious proceeding. The masts were unstepped and hidden in a place by themselves. The sails were taken into the cabin of Abe, where they would be safe.

Meanwhile, the other boys had been engaged in making up the various packs which from now on must be shouldered by each member of the expedition. Experience in such things allowed them to accomplish more in a given time than novices would have been able to do.

"Everything seems to be ready, Paul," announced Jack after a while, as they gathered around, each boy striving to fix his individual pack upon his back, and getting some other fellow to adjust the straps.

Bobolink seemed to have half again as much as any of the others, though this was really all his own doing. Besides his usual share of the luggage he had pots and pans and skillets sticking out in all directions, so that he presented the appearance of a traveling tinker.

"It's a great pity, Bobolink," said Tom Betts, with a grin, as he surveyed his comrade after helping the other load up, "that you were born about seventy-five years too late."

"Tell me why," urged the other.

"Think what a peddler you would have made! You'd have been a howling success hawking your goods around the country."

Of course they had all adjusted their skates before taking up their packs; for bending down would really have been next to a physical impossibility after those weighty burdens had been assumed.

"Hope you have a right good time, boys," said Abe Turner in parting. "And don't any of you worry about these boats. When you come back this way you'll find everything slick and neat here."

"Good for you, Abe," cried Tom Betts. "And make up your mind to it the Banner Boy Scouts never forget their friends. You're on the list, Abe. Good-bye!"

They were off at last, and it was high time, for the short December day was already getting well along toward its close. Night would come almost before they knew it, though they had no reason to expect anything like darkness, with that moon now much more than half full up there in the heavens.

Some of the boys had noticed the mouth of this creek when camping on Cedar Island the previous summer. They had been so much occupied with fishing, taking flashlight pictures of little wild animals in their native haunts, and in solving certain mysteries that came their way that none of them had had time to explore the stream.

On this account then it would prove to be a new bit of country for them, and this fact rather pleased most of the boys, as they dearly loved to prowl around in a section they had never visited before.

Strung out in a straggling procession they skated along. The creek was about as crooked as anything could well be, a fact that influenced Bobolink to shout out:

"In the absence of a better name, fellows, I hereby christen this waterway Snake Creek; any objections?"

"It deserves the name, all right," commented Spider Sexton, "for I never saw such a wiggly stream in all my born days."

"Seems as if we had already come all of five miles, and nary a sign of a cabin ahead yet that I can see," observed Phil Towns, presently, for Phil was really beginning to feel pretty well used up, not being quite so sturdy as some others among the ten scouts.

"That's the joke," laughed Paul; "and it's on me I guess more than any one else. I thought of nearly a thousand things, seems to me, but forgot to ask any one just how far it was up to the cabin from the lake by way of this scrambling creek."

"Why, I'm sure Mr. Garrity said something like six miles!" exclaimed Jack.

"Yes, but that may have meant as the crow flies, straightaway," returned the scout-master.

"At the worst then, Paul," Bobolink ventured to say, "we can camp, and spend a night in the open under the hemlocks. Veteran scouts have no need to be afraid to tackle such a little game as that, with plenty of grub and blankets along."

"Hear! hear!" said Phil Towns. "And as the sun has set already I for one wouldn't care how soon you decided to do that stunt."

"Oh! we ought to be good for another hour or so anyway, Phil," Tom told him, at which the other only grunted and struck manfully out again.

As evening closed in about them, the shadows began to creep out of the heavy growth of timber by which the skaters were surrounded.

"Look! look! a deer!" shrieked Sandy Griggs, suddenly. Thrilled by the cry the others looked ahead just in time to see a flitting form disappear in the thick fringe of shrubbery that lined one side of the creek.



CHAPTER XV

TOLLY TIP AND THE FOREST CABIN

"Oh! that's too bad!" exclaimed Spider Sexton, "I've been telling everybody we'd taste venison of our own killing while off on this trip, and there the first deer we've glimpsed gives us the merry ha-ha!"

"Rotten luck!" grumbled Jud Elderkin. "And me with a rifle gripped in my fist all the time. But I only had a glimpse of a brown object disappearing in the brush, and I never want to just wound a deer so it will suffer. That's why I didn't fire when I threw my gun up."

"With me," explained Jack Stormways, "it happened that Bluff here was just in my way when I had the chance to aim."

"Well," laughed Bobolink, "you might have shot straight through his head, because it's a vacuum. I once heard a teacher tell him so when he failed in his lessons every day for a week."

"Oh! there's bound to be plenty of deer where you can see one so easily," Paul told them, "so cheer up. Unless I miss my guess we'll have all sorts of game to eat while up here in the snow woods. Abe said it was a big season for fur and feather this year."

They kept plodding along and put more miles behind them. The moon now had to be relied on to afford them light, because the last of the sunset glow had departed from the western heavens.

Phil was beginning to feel very tired, and feared he would have to give up unless inside of another mile or two they arrived at their intended destination. Being a proud boy he detested showing any signs of weakness, and clinched his teeth more tightly together as he pressed on, keeping a little behind the rest, so that no one should hear his occasional groan.

All at once a glad cry broke out ahead, coming from Sandy Griggs, who at the moment chanced to be in the van.

"I reckon that's a jolly big fire yonder, fellows, unless I miss my guess!" he told them.

"It is a fire, sure thing," agreed Bobolink.

"Tolly Tip has been looking for us, it seems, and has built a roaring blaze out of doors to serve as a guide to our faltering steps!" announced Jud, pompously, although he could hardly have been referring to himself, for his pace seemed to be just as swift and bold as when he first set out.

"It's less than half a mile away I should say, even with this crooked stream to navigate," announced Bobolink, more to comfort Phil than anything else.

"Keep going right along, and don't bother about me, I'm all right," called the latter, cheerfully, from the rear.

In a short time the scouts drew near what proved to be a roaring fire built on the bank of the creek. They could see a man moving about, and he must have already heard their voices in the near distance for he was shading his eyes with his hand, and looking earnestly their way.

"Hello, Tolly Tip!" cried out the boisterous Bobolink. "Here we come, right-side up with care! How's Mrs. Tip, and all the little Tips?"

This was only a boyish joke, for they had already been told by Mr. Garrity that the keeper of the hunting lodge was a jolly old bachelor. But Bobolink must have his say regardless of everything. They heard the trapper laugh as though he immediately fell in with the spirit of fun that these boys carried with them.

"He's all right!" exclaimed Bobolink, on catching that boisterous laugh. "Who's all right? Tolly Tip, the keeper of Deer Head Lodge, situated in Garrity Camp! For he's a jolly good fellow, which none can deny!"

Amidst all this laughter and chatter the ten scouts arrived at the spot where the welcoming blaze awaited them, to receive a warm welcome from the queer, old fellow who took care of Mr. Garrity whenever the latter chose to hide away from his business vexations up here in the woods.

The boys could see immediately that Tolly Tip was about as queer as his name would indicate. At the same time they believed they would like him. His blue eyes twinkled with good humor, and he had a droll Irish brogue that was bound to add to the flavor of the stories they felt sure he had on the end of his tongue.

"Sure, it's delighted I am to say the lot av yees this night," he said as they came crowding around, each wanting to shake his hand fiercely. "Mr. Garrity towld me in the letther he was after sindin' up with the tame that ye war a foine bunch av lads, that would be afther kapin' me awake all right. And sure I do belave 'twill be so."

"I hope we won't bother you too much while we're here," said Paul, understanding what an energetic crowd he was piloting on this excursion.

"Ye couldn't do the same if ye tried," Tolly Tip declared, heartily. "I have to be alone most all the long winther, an' it do be a great trate to hav' some lively lads visit me for a s'ason. Fetch the packs along wid ye into the cabin. I want to make ye sorry for carrying all this stuff wid ye up here."

His words mystified them until, having entered the capacious cabin built of hewn logs, with the chinks well filled with hard mortar, they were shown a wagonload of groceries which Mr. Garrity had actually taken secret pleasure in purchasing without letting the boys know anything about it.

A team had found its way across the miles of intervening woods, and delivered this magnificent present at the forest lodge. It was intended to be a surprise to the boys, and Mr. Garrity certainly overwhelmed them with his generosity.

Bobolink alone was seen to stand and gaze regretfully at the small edition of a grocery store, meanwhile shaking his head sorrowfully.

"What ails you, Bobolink?" demanded one of his chums.

"It can't be done, no matter how many meals a day we try to make way with," the other solemnly announced. "I've been calculating, and there's enough stuff there to feed us a month. Then, besides, think of what we toted along. Shucks! why didn't Nature make boys with India rubber stomachs."

"Some fellows I happen to know have already been favored in that line," hinted Tom Betts, maliciously; "but as for the rest of us, we have to get along with just the old-fashioned kind."

"Cheer up, Bobolink," laughed Paul; "what we can't devour we'll be only too glad to leave to our good friend Tolly Tip here. The chances are he'll know what to do with everything so none of it will be wasted."

"When a man who all his life has been as tightfisted as Mr. Garrity does wake up," said Phil Towns, "he goes to the other extreme, and shames a lot of people who've been calling themselves charitable."

"Oh! that's because he has so much to make up, I guess," explained Jud.

While some of the boys started in to get a good supper ready the others went around taking a look at the cabin in the snowy woods that was to be their home for the next twelve days.

It had been strongly built to resist the cold, though as a rule the owner did not come up here after the leaves were off the forest trees. A stove in one room could be used to keep it as warm as toast when foot-long lengths of wood were fed to its capacious maw. The fire in the big open hearth served to heat the other room, and over this the cooking was also done.

Several bunks gave promise of snug sleeping quarters. As these would accommodate only four it was evident that lots must be cast to see who the lucky quartette would prove to be.

"To-morrow," said Paul, when speaking of this lack of accommodations, "one of the very first things we do will be to fix other bunks, because every scout should have a decent place for his bed. There's plenty of room in here to make a regular scout dormitory of it."

"Fine!" commented Tom Betts; "and those of us who draw the short straws can manage somehow with our blankets on the floor for one night, I guess."

"We've all slept soundly on harder beds than that, let me tell you," asserted Bobolink, "and for one I decline to draw a straw. Me for the soft side of a plank to-night, you hear."

The other boys knew that Bobolink, in his generosity, really had in mind Phil and one or two more of the boys, not quite so accustomed to roughing it as others of the campers.

That supper, eaten under such novel surroundings, would long be remembered; for while these boys were old hands at camping, up to now they had never spent any time in the open while Jack Frost had his stamp on all nature, and the earth was covered with snow.

It was, all things considered, one of the greatest evenings in their lives.



CHAPTER XVI

THE FIRST NIGHT OUT

"Well, it's started in to snow!"

Jud Elderkin made this surprising statement after he had gone to the door to take a peep at the weather.

"You must be fooling, Jud," expostulated Tom, "because when I looked out not more'n fifteen minutes ago the moon was shining like everything."

"All right, that may be, but she's blanketed behind the clouds right now, and the snow's coming down like fun," asserted Jud.

"Seems that we didn't get here any too soon, then," chuckled Bluff.

"Oh! a little snow wouldn't have bothered us any," laughed Jack. "We'd never think of minding a heavy fall at home, and why should we worry now?"

"That's a fact," Bobolink went on to remark, with a look of solid satisfaction on his beaming face. "Plenty of wood under the shed near by, and enough grub to feed an army. We're all right."

After several of them had gone to verify Jud's statement, and had brought back positive evidence in the shape of snowballs, the boys again clustered around the jolly fire and continued to talk on various subjects that chanced to interest them.

"I wonder now," remarked Bobolink, finally, "if Hank took Mr. Briggs' money as well as set fire to his store."

As this was the first mention that had been made concerning this subject Tolly Tip showed considerable interest.

"Is it the ould storekeeper in Stanhope ye mane?" he asked. "Because I did me tradin' with the same the short time I was in town, and sorry a bargain did I ever sacure from Misther Briggs."

"Plenty of other people are in the same boat with you there, Tolly Tip," Sandy told him with a chuckle. "But his run of good luck has met with a snag. Somebody set fire to his store, which was partly burned down the other night."

"Yes, and the worst part of it," added Bobolink, "was that Mr. Briggs accidentally, or on purpose, let his insurance policy lapse, so that he can get no damages on account of this fire."

"And the last thing we heard before coming away," Phil Towns went on to say, "was that the safe had been broken open and robbed. Poor old Levi Briggs' cup is full to overflowing I guess. Everything seems to be coming his way in a bunch."

"I suspect that this Hank ye're tillin' me about must be a wild harum-scarum broth av a boy thin?" remarked the old woodsman, puffing at his pipe contentedly.

"He is the toughest boy in town," said Phil.

"And several others train with him who aim to beat his record if they can," Spider Sexton hastened to add as his contribution.

"There's absolutely nothing they wouldn't try if they thought they could get some fun or gain out of it," declared Jud emphatically.

"Do till!" exclaimed their host, shaking his head dolefully as though he disliked knowing that any boys could sink to such a low level.

"Why, only the other day," said Bobolink, "Jack and I saw the gang pick on a couple of tramps who had just come out of Briggs' store. So far as we knew the hoboes hadn't offered to say a word to Hank and his crowd, but the fellows ran them out of town with a shower of stones. Didn't they, Jack?"

"Yes. And we saw one tramp get a hard blow on the head from a rock, in the bargain," assented Jack.

"Wow! but they were a mad pair, let me tell you," concluded Bobolink.

"By the same token," observed Tolly Tip, "till me av one of the tramps had on an ould blue army coat wid rid linin' to the same?"

Bobolink uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"Just what he did, I give you my word!" he replied hastily.

"And was the other chap a long-legged hobo, wid a face that made ye think av the sharp idge av a hatchet?" the old trapper questioned.

"I reckon you must have seen the pair yourself, Tolly Tip!" observed Bobolink. "Were you in Stanhope, or did they happen to pass this way?"

At that the taker of furs touched his cheek just below his eye with the tip of his finger, and smiled humorously.

"'Tis the black eye they were afther giving me early this day, sure it was," he explained. "Not two miles away from here it happened, where the road cuts through the woods like a knife blade. I'd been out to look at a few traps set in that section whin I kim on the spalpeens. We had words, and the shorter chap wid the army coat ran, but the other engaged me. Before he cut stick he managed to lave the imprission av his fists on me face, bad luck to the same."

"I guess after all, Jack," remarked Bobolink, "they must be a couple of hard cases, and Hank did the town a service when he chased them off."

"It would be the first time on record then that the Lawson crowd was of any benefit to the community," Jack commented; "but accidents will happen, you know. They didn't mean to do a good turn, only have what they call fun."

"So the shorter rascal didn't have any fight in him, it seems, Tolly Tip?" Bobolink observed, as though the subject interested him considerably.

"Oh! as for that," replied the trapper, "mebbe he do be afther thinkin' discretion was the better part av valor. Ye say, he had one av his hands wrapped up in a rag, and I suspect he must have been hurt."

"That's interesting, at any rate!" declared Bobolink. "When we saw him he had the use of both hands. Something must have happened after that. I wonder what."

"You're the greatest fellow to wonder I ever knew," laughed Sandy Griggs.

"Bobolink likes to grapple with mysteries," said Jud, "and from now on he'll keep bothering his head about that tramp's injured hand, wanting to know whether he cut himself with a broken bottle, or burned his fingers when cooking his coffee in an old tomato can over the campfire."

"Let Bobolink alone, boys," said Paul. "If he chooses to amuse himself in that way what's the odds? Who knows but what he may surprise us with a wonderful discovery some day."

"Thank you, Paul," the other remarked drily.

After that the subject was dropped. It did not offer much of interest to the other scouts, but Paul, glancing towards Bobolink several times, could easily see that he was pondering over something.

After all, the snow did not last long. Before they finally went to bed they found that the moon had once more appeared through a rift in the clouds, and not more than two inches of fresh snow had covered the ground.

There was considerable skirmishing around done when the boys commenced to make their final preparations for spending the first night in their winter camp. No one would think of taking Tolly Tip's bunk when he generously offered it, and so straws were drawn for the remaining three, as well as the cot upon which Mr. Garrity slept when up at his Deer Head Lodge.

The fortunate ones turned out to be Paul, Bluff, Frank and Bobolink, though the last mentioned declared positively that he preferred sleeping on the floor as a novelty, and insisted that Phil Towns occupy his bunk.

They managed to make themselves comfortable after a fashion, though the appearance of the "dormitory" excited considerable laughter, with the boys sprawled out in every direction.

All of the boys were up early, and they were eager to take up the many plans they had laid out for the day. Breakfast was the first thing on the calendar; and while it was being prepared and dispatched the tongues of that half score of boys ran on like the water over the wheel of the old mill, with a constant clatter.

There was no necessity for all of them to remain at home to work on the new bunks, so Paul picked out several to assist him in that work. The others were at liberty to carry out such scout activities as most appealed to their fancy. Some planned to go off with the woodsman to see how he managed with his steel traps, by means of which, during the winter, he expected to lay by quite a good-sized bundle of valuable fur. Then there was wood to chop, pictures to be taken, favorable places to be found for setting the camera during a coming night so as to get a flashlight view of a fox or a mink in the act of stealing the bait, as well as numerous other pleasant duties and diversions, all of which had been eagerly planned for the preceding night as the boys sat before the crackling fire.



CHAPTER XVII

"TIP-UPS" FOR PICKEREL

Tom Betts came up from the frozen creek.

"I don't believe that little snow ought to keep us from trying the scheme we laid out between us, Jack," he said, looking entreatingly at the other.

"Why, no, there wasn't enough to hurt the skating," replied the other, readily, much to Tom's evident satisfaction.

"Bully for you, Jack!" he exclaimed. "There was more or less wind blowing at the time, and the snow was pretty dry, so it blew off the ice. We can easily make the lake in an hour I reckon, with daylight to help us. Besides, we know the way by this time, you see."

"All right!" called out Frank, who had been detailed to assist Paul in the making of the extra bunks out of some spare boards that lay near by, having been brought into the woods for some purpose, though never used.

"Remember, you two fishermen," warned Paul, "we'll all have our mouths set for pickerel to-night, so don't dare disappoint us, or there will be a riot in the camp."

"We've just got to get those fish, Jack," said Tom, with mock solemnity, "even if we have to go in ourselves after them. Our lives wouldn't be worth a pinch of salt in this crowd if they had to go pickerelless to-night."

"Oh! that'll do! Be off with you!" roared Jud Elderkin, making out to throw a frying-pan at Tom's head.

When at the lake talking to the man who had agreed to look after their iceboats during their absence, the boys had learned that there was fine fishing through the ice to be had at this season of the year.

Abe Turner had also informed them that should they care to indulge in the sport at any time, and should skate down to his cabin, he would show them just how it was done. What was more to the point, he had a store of live minnows in a spring-hole that never froze up, even in the hardest winter, he had been told.

This then was the object that drew the two scouts, both of them exceedingly fond of fishing in every way. None of the boys had ever fished through the ice, it happened, though they knew how it was done.

Accordingly, Tom and Jack set off down the creek, their skate runners sending back that clear ringing sound that is music in the ears of every lad who loves the outdoor sports of winter.

Jack carried his gun along. Not that he had any particular intention of hunting, for others had taken that upon themselves as a part of the day's routine, but then a deer might happen to cross their path, and such a chance if it came would be too good to lose.

"You see," commented Tom, after a mile or so had been placed to their credit, "the snow isn't going to bother us the least bit. And I never enjoyed skating any better than right now."

"Same here," Jack told him. "And we certainly couldn't find ourselves surrounded by a prettier scene, with every twig covered with snow."

"Listen!"

Both of them stopped when Tom called in this fashion, and strained their ears to catch a repetition of the sound Tom had heard.

"Oh! that's only a fox barking," said Jack. "I've heard them do it many a time. You know they belong to the dog family, just as the wolf and jackal and hyena do. Tolly Tip has a couple of fox pelts already, and he says they are very numerous this year. Come on, let's be moving again."

So they pursued their winding way down the straggling creek, first turning to the right and then to the left.

"It's been just an hour since we left camp," remarked Jack at length, "and there you can catch a glimpse of the lake through the trees yonder."

Abe Turner was surprised as well as pleased to find two of the boys at his door that morning.

"Didn't expect us back so soon, did you, Abe?" laughed Tom. "But in laying out the plans for to-day we found that some of the boys were fish hungry, so we decided to run down and take you up on your proposition."

"Nothing would please me better," Abe told them. "And it is about as good a day for ice fishing as anybody'd want to set eyes on. I'll go right away and get my lines. Then we'll pick up a pail, and put some of my minnows in it."

Before long they were out upon the ice of Lake Tokala, Tom carrying an axe, Jack the various lines and "tip-ups" that were to signal when a fish had been hooked, and Abe with the live bait in a tin bucket.

The day was not a bitterly cold one, and this promised to make fishing agreeable work.

"On the big lakes where they do a heap of this kind of work," explained their guide as they went toward Cedar Island, "the men build little shanties out on the ice, where they can keep fairly warm. You see sometimes the weather is terribly cold. But a day like this makes it a pleasure to be out."

Coming to a place where Abe knew from previous experience that a good haul could be made, the first hole was cut in the ice. As winter was still young this did not prove to be a hard task.

Abe had marked a dozen places where these holes were to be chopped, but the boys chose to watch him set his first line. After the novelty had worn off they would be ready to take a hand themselves.

There are many sorts of "tip-ups" used in this species of sport, but Abe's kind answered all purposes and was very simple, being possibly the original "tip-up."

He would take a branch that had a certain kind of fork as thick around as his little finger. In cutting this he left two short "feet" and one long one. To Tom's mind it looked something like an old-fashioned cannon, with the line securely tied to the short projecting muzzle.

When the fish took hold this point was pulled down, with the result that the longer "tail" shot up into the air, the outstretched legs preventing the fork from being drawn into the hole.

At the end of the long "tail" Abe had fastened a small piece of red flannel. When a dozen lines were out it often kept a man busy running this way and that to attend to the numerous calls as signaled by the upraised red flags.

"Now that we know just how it's done," said Tom, after they had seen the bait fastened to the hook and dropped into the lake, "we'll get busy cutting all those other holes. My turn next, Jack, you remember. Watch my smoke."

They had hardly finished the second hole before they heard Abe laughing, and glancing toward him discovered that he was holding up a two-pound, struggling pickerel.

"First blood for Abe!" cried Tom. "But if they keep on biting it'll be our chance soon, Jack. My stars! but that is a beaut, though. A dozen like that would make the boys stare, I tell you."

When Abe had arranged four lines he would not hear of the boys cutting any more holes.

"I'll dig out a couple to make an even half dozen," he told them. "And the way the pike are biting to-day I reckon we'll get a good mess."

"All right, then," agreed Tom, much relieved, for he wanted to be pulling in the fish rather than doing the drudgery. "I'll look after these two holes, Jack, and you skirmish around the others. And by jinks! if I haven't got one right now!"

"The same here," shouted the equally excited Jack. "Whew! how he does pull though! Must be a whopper this time. I hope I don't lose him!"

Fortune favored the ice fishermen, for both captives were saved, and they proved to be even larger than the first one taken.

So the fun went on. At times it slackened more or less, only to begin again with new momentum. The pile of fish on the ice, rapidly freezing, once they were exposed to the air, increased until at noon they had all they could think of carrying home.

"The rest of the day we'll take things easy, and lay in a stock for Abe here," suggested Tom; for the guide had told them he meant to cure as many of the fish as he could secure, since later on in the winter they would be much more difficult to catch, and it would be a long time until April came with its break-up of the ice.

The boys certainly enjoyed every minute of their stay at the lake. Jack was wise enough to know that they had better start for camp about three o'clock. It might not be quite so easy going back, as they would be tired, and the wind was against them.

They had skated for over half an hour, with their heavy packs on their backs, when again Tom called to his comrade to listen.

"And believe me it wasn't a fox that time, Jack!" he declared, "but, as sure as you live, it sounded like somebody calling weakly for help!"



CHAPTER XVIII

THE HELPING HAND OF A SCOUT

When Jack, listening, caught the same sound, he turned upon his companion with a serious expression on his face.

"Let's kick off our skates and hang our packs up in the crotch of this tree, Tom," he said.

"Then you expect to investigate, and find out what it means, do you?"

"We'd feel pretty mean if we went on our way like the Levite in the old story of the Good Samaritan," remarked Jack, busily disengaging his bundle of fish which Abe had done up in a piece of old bagging.

"I'm the last one to do such a thing," asserted Tom, "only I chanced to remember that there are some tough boys up here somewhere—Hank and his crowd—and I was wondering if this could be a trick to get us to put our fingers in a trap."

Jack chuckled, and held up his gun.

"We ought to be able to take care of ourselves with this," he told his chum.

"Right you are, Jack! So let's be on the jump. There! that sounded like a big groan, didn't it? Somebody's in a peck of trouble. Maybe a wood-chopper has had a tree fall on him or cut his foot with his axe, and is bleeding badly."

"Just what I had in mind," remarked the other, as they started into the shrubbery.

The groans continued; therefore, the two scouts had no difficulty in going directly to the spot. In a few minutes Tom clutched his chum's sleeve and pointed directly ahead.

"Ginger! it looks like Sim Jeffreys," he whispered.

"No other," added Jack.

"But what's the matter with the fellow?" continued Tom. "See how he keeps tugging away at his right leg. I bet you he's gone and got it caught in a root, and can't work it free. I've been through just such an experience."

"We'll soon find out," remarked Jack, pushing forward.

"Be mighty careful, Jack," urged the other, not yet wholly convinced that the groans were really genuine, for he knew how tricky Sim Jeffreys had always been.

By this time the other had become aware of their presence. He turned an agonized face toward them, upon which broke a gleam of wild hope. If Sim Jeffreys were playing a part then, Jack thought, he must be a clever actor.

"Oh, say! ain't I glad to see you boys," he called, holding both his hands out toward them. "Come, help me get free from this pesky old trap here!"

"Trap!" echoed Tom. "Just what do you mean by that, Sim?"

"I ain't tryin' to fool you, boys. Sure I ain't!" exclaimed the other, anxiously. "Seems to me like an old bear trap, though I never saw one before. I was out with my gun, lookin' for partridges, when all of a sudden it jumped up and grabbed me right by the leg."

Neither of the boys could believe this strange story until they had taken a look. Then they saw that it was just as Sim had declared. The trap was old and very rusty. Jack saw that it had lost much of its former fierce grip, which was lucky for poor Sim, for otherwise he might have had his leg badly injured.

Still the jaws retained enough force to hold the boy securely; though had Sim retained his presence of mind, instead of tugging wildly to break away, he might have found it possible to bear down on the weakened springs and set himself free.

Tom and Jack quickly did this service for the other, who was profuse in his expressions of gratitude, though neither of the scouts believed in his sincerity, for Sim had a reputation for being slippery and double-faced.

"Why, I might have frozen to death here to-night," he told them. "Even if I had lived till to-morrow I'd have starved sure. The bears would have got me too, or the wildcats."

"Didn't you call when you first got caught?" asked Tom.

"I should say I did, till I could hardly whisper, but nobody seemed to hear me shout," came the reply, as Sim rubbed his swollen and painful leg. "Guess I'll have to limp all the way back to the hole in the rocks where the rest of the boys are campin'."

"How far away from here is it?" asked Jack, wondering whether they ought to do anything more for Sim or let him shift for himself.

"Oh, a mile and more, due west," the boy told them. "Where that hill starts up, see? We haven't got much grub along with us, b'cause, you see, we depended on shooting heaps of game. But so far I've knocked down only one bird."

"Do you think you can make it, Sim?" persisted Jack.

The fellow limped around a little before replying.

"I reckon I kin. Though I'll be pretty sore to-morrow like as not, after this silly thing grabbin' me the way it did. I know my way home, boys, never fear, and I'll turn up there sooner or later. Much obliged for your help."

With that Sim started off as though eager to get his hard work over with. And as there was nothing more to be done, the two chums returned to the creek, shouldered their heavy packs after resuming their skates, and went on their way.

It was just about dusk when they made the cabin on the bank of Snake Creek; and as the others discovered their burdens a shout of joy went up.

"The country's safe," said Jud, "since you've brought home a stack of fine pickerel. Let's see what they look like, fellows."

At sight of the big fish the boys were loud in their congratulations.

"Wouldn't mind having a try at that fun myself one of these days," asserted Jud, enviously. "Paul, jot it down that I'm to be your side partner when you take a notion to go down to the lake."

"Some of you get busy here fixing the fish, if we mean to have them to-night," remarked Jack, who was too tired to think of doing it himself.

"Too late for that this evening. We've got supper all ready for you. The fish will have to keep till to-morrow," announced Bobolink.

"What's this I smell in the air?" demanded Tom. "Don't tell me you've bagged a deer already?"

"Just what we have!" said Bobolink, his eyes glistening so, that it required little effort to decide who the lucky hunter was.

"Why, he wasn't away from camp an hour," asserted Phil Towns, "when we heard him whooping, and in he came with a young buck on his back. I never thought Bobolink was strong enough to tote that load a mile and more."

"Huh! I'd have carried in an elephant if it had dropped to my gun, I felt that good!" declared the happy hunter.

"But all the adventures haven't fallen to you fellows who stayed here in camp or wandered about in the adjacent woods," announced Tom, mysteriously.

"What else have you been doing besides catching that dandy mess of fish?" asked the scout-master, voicing the curiosity of the entire crowd.

"Say! did you shoot some game, too—a deer, a wildcat, or maybe a big black bear?" demanded Bobolink, eagerly.

"No, the gun was never fired," continued Tom. "But we've got a right to turn our badges over for this day, because we performed a Good Samaritan act."

"Go on and tell us about it!" urged Sandy Griggs.

"We heard groans, and weak calls for help," said Tom, unable to keep back his news any longer, though he would have liked very much to continue tantalizing the others, "and after we had kicked off our skates and hung our packs in a tree, we went over into the woods and found——"

"What?" roared several of the curious scouts in unison.

"Who but our fellow townsman, Sim Jeffreys, whining and groaning to beat the band," continued the narrator. "It seems that he had got caught in a trap, and expected to be frozen to death to-night, or starve there to-morrow."

"A trap, did ye say?" asked Tolly Tip. And Paul noticed a sudden look of enlightenment come into his face.

"Tell us what sort of a trap, Tom?" urged Bobolink.

"A regular bear trap!" replied the one addressed.

"Oh, come now! you're trying to play some sort of trick on us, fellows," cried Spider Sexton. "How ever would a real bear trap come there?"

"Ask Tolly Tip," suggested Paul.

"That's right, lads, I know all about that trap," admitted the old woodsman, as he grinned at them. "I had an ole bear trap that had lost its grip and wasn't wuth much. I sot the same in the woods, but nothin' iver kim nigh it, and so I jest forgets all about the same. But bless me sowl I niver dramed it'd be afther grippin' a lad by the leg. All he had to do was to push down on the springs, and he'd been loose."

"I could see that plainly enough," admitted Jack. "The trouble was Sim fell into a panic as soon as he found himself caught, and all he could do was to squirm and pull and shout and groan. It shows the foolishness of letting a thing scare you out of your seven senses."

"But do you mean to say there are real, live bears around here, Tolly Tip?" demanded Bobolink, his eyes nearly round with excitement.

"There's one rogue av a bear that I've tried to git for this two year, but by the same token he's been too smart for the likes av me."

"That interests me a whole lot," remarked Paul; "and I mean to devote much of my spare time to trying to shoot that same bear with my camera in order to get a flashlight picture of him in his native haunts!"



CHAPTER XIX

NEWS OF BIG GAME

"Faith and would ye mind tillin' me how that same might be done?" asked Tolly Tip, showing considerable interest. "I niver knowed that ye could shoot a bear with a shmall contraption like that black box."

Some of the boys snickered, but Paul frowned on them.

"When we speak that way," he went on to explain, "we mean getting an object in the proper focus, and then clicking the trigger of the camera. We are really just taking a picture."

"Oh! now I say what ye mane," admitted the woodsman; "but I niver owned a camera in all me life, so I'm what ye'd call grane at it. Sure 'tis a harmless way av shootin' anything I should say."

"But it gives a fellow just as much pleasure to get a cracking good picture of a wild animal at home as it does a hunter to kill," Phil Towns hastened to remark. Tolly Tip, however, shook his head in the negative, as though to declare that for the life of him he could not see it that way.

"If you can show me a place that the black bear is using," Paul continued, "I'll fix my camera in such a way that when Bruin pulls at a bait attached to a cord he'll ignite the flashlight cartridge, and take his own photograph."

At that the woodsman laughed aloud, so novel did the scheme strike him.

"I'll do that same and without delay, me lad," he declared. "I've got a notion this very minute that I know where I might find my bear; and after nightfall I'll bait the ground wid some ould combs av wild honey."

"Wild honey did you say?" asked Jud, licking his lips in anticipation, for if there was one thing to eat in all the wide world Jud liked better than another it was the sweets from the hive.

"Och! 'tis mesilf that has stacks av the same laid away, and I promise ye all ye kin eat while ye stay here," the woodsman told them, at which Jud executed a pigeon-wing to express his satisfaction.

"And did you gather it yourself around here, Tolly Tip?" he inquired.

"Nawthin' else," acknowledged the old trapper. "Ye say, whin Mister Garrity do be staying down in town it's small work I have to do; and to locate a bee tree is a rale pleasure. Some time I'll till ye how we go about the thrick. Av course there's no use tryin' it afther winter sets in, for the bees stick in the hive."

"And bears just dote on honey, do they, the same as Jud here does?" asked Frank.

"A bear kin smell honey a mile away," the woodsman declared. "In fact, the very last time I glimpsed the ould varmint we've been spakin' about 'twas at the bee tree I'd chopped down. I wint home to sacure some pails, and whin I got back to the spot there the ould beast was a lickin' up the stuff in big gobs. Sure I could have shot him aisy enough, but I had made up me mind to take him in a trap or not at all, so I lit him go."

"So he got his share of the honey, did he?" asked Jud.

"Oh! I lift him all I didn't want, and set a trap to nab him, but by me word he was too smart for Tolly Tip."

"Then I hope you salt the ground to-night," remarked Paul, "and that I can set my camera to-morrow evening and see what comes of it."

It was not long before they were sitting down to the first real game supper of the excursion. Everybody spoke of it as "Bobolink's venison treat," and that individual's boyish heart swelled with pride from time to time until Spider Sexton called out:

"Next thing you know we'll have a real tragedy hereabouts."

"What do you mean?" demanded Phil Towns.

"Why," explained Spider, "Bobolink keeps on swelling out his chest like a pouter pigeon every time somebody happens to mention his deer, and I'm afraid he'll burst with vanity soon."

"And when the day's doings are written up," Bluff put in, "be sure and put in that another of our gallant band came within an ace of being terribly bitten by a savage wild beast."

"Please explain what it's all about," begged Tom. "You see Jack and I were away pretty much all day. You and Sandy went off with Tolly Tip, didn't you, to see how he managed his traps? Was it then the terrible thing happened?"

"It was," said Bluff, with a chuckle. "You see Tolly Tip kept on explaining everything as we went from trap to trap, and both of us learned heaps this morning. Finally, we came to the marsh and there a muskrat trap held a big, ferocious animal by the hind leg."

"You see," Sandy broke in, as though anxious to show off his knowledge of the art of trapping, "as a rule the rat is drowned, which saves the skin from being mangled. But this one stayed up on the bank instead of jumping off when caught in the trap. Now go on, Bluff."

"Sandy accidentally got a mite too close to the beast," continued the other. "First thing I knew I heard a snarl, and then Sandy jumped back, with the teeth of the muskrat clinging to the elbow of his coat sleeve. An inch further and our chum'd have been badly bitten. It was a mighty narrow escape, let me tell you."

"Another thing that would interest you, Paul," Bluff went on to say, "was the beaver house we saw in the pond the animals had made when they built a dam across the creek, a mile above here."

"Beavers around this section too!" exclaimed Jud, as though it almost took his breath away.

"Only wan little colony," explained Tolly Tip.

"I'd give something to get a picture of real, live beavers, at their work," Paul remarked.

"Thin ye'll have till come up this way nixt spring time, whin they do be friskin' around like young lambs," the woodsman told him. "Jist now they do be snug in their winter quarters, and ye'll not see a speck av thim. If it's the house ye want to take a picture av, the chance is yours any day ye see fit."

After supper was over Jack and Tom took a look at the new bunks.

"A bully job, fellows!" declared the latter, "and one that does you credit. Why, every one of us is now fitted with a coffin. And I see we can sleep without danger of rolling out, since you've fixed a slat across the front of each bunk."

"Taken as a whole," Frank announced, "I think the scouts have done pretty well for their first day at Camp Garrity. Don't you, fellows? Plenty of fish and venison in the locker, all these bunks built, lots of valuable information picked up, and last but not least, coals of fire poured on the head of the enemy."

They sat around again and talked as the evening advanced, for there was an endless list of interesting things to be considered. Later Paul accompanied the old woodsman on his walk to the place where he believed the bear would pass. Here they set out the honey comb that had been carried along, to serve as an attractive bait.

"Ye understand," explained Tolly Tip, as they wended their way homeward again in the silvery moonlight that made the scene look like fairyland, "that once the ould rascal finds a trate like that he'll come a sniffin' around ivery night for a week av Sundays, hopin' fortune wull be kind till him ag'in."

As the boys were very tired after such a strenuous day, they did not sit up very late.

Every lad slept soundly on this, the second night in camp. In fact, most of them knew not a single thing five minutes after they lay down until the odor of coffee brought them to their senses to find that it was broad daylight, and that breakfast was well under way.

Paul and Jud left the camp immediately after breakfast intending to go to the place where the honey comb had been left as bait. Tolly Tip, before they went, explained further.

"Most times, ye say, bears go into their winter quarters with the first hard cold spell, and hibernate till spring comes. This s'ason it has been so queer I don't know but what the bear is still at large, because I saw his tracks just the day before ye arrived in camp."

When the pair came back the others met them with eager questions.

"How about it, Paul?"

"Any chance of getting that flashlight?"

"Did you find the honey gone?"

"See any tracks around?"

Paul held up his hand.

"I'll tell you everything in a jiffy, fellows, if you give me half a chance," he said. "Yes, we found that the honeycomb had been carried off; and there in the snow were some pretty big tracks left by Bruin, the bear!"

"Good!" exclaimed Frank Savage, "then he'll be back to-night. It's already settled that you'll coax him to snap off his own picture."



CHAPTER XX

AT THE BEAVER POND

The second day in camp promised to be very nearly as full of action as that lively first one had been. Every scout had half a dozen things he wanted to do; so, acting on the advice of Paul, each made out a list, and thus followed a regular programme.

Jud, having learned that there were partridges about, set off with his shotgun to see if he could bag a few of the plump birds.

"Don't forget there are ten of us here, Jud!" called Spider Sexton, "and that each one of us can get away with a bird."

"Have a heart, can't you?" remonstrated the Nimrod, laughingly. "Cut it down to half all around, and I might try to oblige you. Think of me, staggering along under such a load of game as that. Guess you never hefted a fat partridge, Spider."

"I admit that I never ate one, if that suits you, Jud," replied the other, frankly.

Paul on his part had told Tolly Tip he would like to accompany him on his round of the traps on that particular morning.

"Of course, I've got an object in view when I say that," he explained. "It is to take a look at the beaver house you've been telling me about. I want to take my camera along, and snap off a few views of it. That will be better than nothing when we tell the story."

"Count me in on that trip, Paul," said Spider Sexton. "I always did want to see a regular beaver colony, and learn how they make the dam where their houses are built. I hope you don't object to my joining you?"

"Not a bit. Only too glad to have you for company, Spider," answered the scout-master. "Only both of us are under Tolly Tip's orders, you understand. He has his rules when visiting the traps, which we mustn't break, as that might ruin his chances of taking more pelts."

"How can that be, Paul?" demanded the other.

"Oh! you'll understand better as you go along," called out Bluff, who was close by and heard this talk. "Sandy Griggs and I learned a heap yesterday while helping him gather his harvest of skins. And for one, I'll never forget what he explained to me, it was all so interesting."

"The main thing is this," Paul went on to say, in order to relieve Spider's intense curiosity to some extent. "You must know all these wild animals are gifted with a marvelous sense of smell, and can readily detect the fact that a human being has been near their haunts."

"Why, I never thought about that before, Paul," admitted Spider; "but I can see how it must be so. I've hunted with a good setter, and know what a dog's scent is."

"Well, a mink or an otter or a fox is gifted even more than the best dog you ever saw," Paul continued, "and on that account it's always up to the trapper to conceal the fact that a human being has been around, because these animals seem to know by instinct that man is their mortal enemy."

"How does he do it then?" asked Spider.

"You'll see by watching Tolly Tip," the scout-master told him. "Sometimes trappers set their snares by means of a skiff, so as not to leave a trace of their presence, for water carries no scent. Then again they will wade to and from the place where the trap is set."

"But in the winter-time they couldn't do that, could they?" protested Spider.

"Of course not, and to overcome that obstacle they sometimes use a scent that overpowers their own, as well as serves to draw the animal to the fatal trap."

"Oh! I remember now seeing some such thing advertised in a sporting magazine as worth its weight in gold to all trappers. And the more I hear about this the stronger my desire grows to see into it. Are we going to start soon, Paul?"

"There's Tolly Tip almost ready to move along, so get your gun, and I'll look after my camera, Spider."

At the time they left Camp Garrity it presented quite a bustling picture. There was Bobolink lustily swinging the axe and cutting some wood close by the shed where a winter's supply of fuel had been piled up. Tom Betts was busying himself cleaning some of the fish taken on the preceding day. Jack was hanging out all the blankets on several lines for an airing, as they still smelled of camphor to a disagreeable extent. Several others were moving to and fro engaged in various duties.

As the two scouts trotted along at the heels of the old woodsman they found many things to chat about, for there was no need of keeping silent at this early stage of the hike. Later on when in the vicinity of the trap line it would be necessary to bridle their tongues, or at least to talk in whispers, for the wary little animals would be apt to shun a neighborhood where they heard the sound of human voices.

"One reason I wanted to come out this morning," explained Paul, "was that there seems to be a feeling in the air that spells storm to me. If we had a heavy fall of snow the beaver house might be hidden from view."

"What's that you say, Paul—a storm, when the sun's shining as bright as ever it could? Have you had a wireless from Washington?" demanded Spider, grinning.

"Oh! I seem to feel it in my bones," laughed Paul. "Always did affect me that way, somehow or other. And nine times out of ten my barometer tells me truly. How about that, Tolly Tip? Is this fine weather apt to last much longer?"

The guide seemed to be amused at what they were saying.

"Sure and I'm tickled to death to hear ye say that same, Paul," he replied. "By the powers I'm blissed wid the same kind av a barometer in me bones. Yis, and the signs do be tilling me that inside of forty-eight hours, mebbe a deal less nor that, we're due for a screecher. It has been savin' up a long while now, and whin she breaks loose—howly smoke, but we'll git it!"

"Meaning a big storm, eh, Tolly Tip?" asked Spider, looking a bit incredulous.

"Take me worrd for the same, lads," the woodsman told them.

"Well, if your prediction comes true," said Spider, "I must try to find out how to know what sort of weather is coming. I often watch the predictions of the Weather Bureau tacked up at the post office, but lots of times it's away off the track. Bobolink was saying only this morning that he expected we'd skip all the bad weather on this trip."

At mention of Bobolink's name, the trapper chuckled.

"'Tis a quare chap that same Bobolink sames to be," he observed. "He says such amusin' things at times. Only this same mornin' do ye know he asks me whether I could till him if that short tramp's hand had been hurted by a cut or a burrn. Just as if that mattered to us at all, at all."

Paul did not say anything, but his eyebrows went up as though a sudden thought had struck him. Whatever was in his mind he kept to himself.

When they arrived at the marsh where Tolly Tip had several of his traps set he told his companions what he wanted them to do. Under certain conditions they could approach with him and witness the process of taking out the victim, if fortune had been kind to the trapper. Afterwards they would see how he reset the trap, and then backed away, removing every possible evidence of his presence.

Both scouts were deeply interested, though Spider rather pitied the poor rats they took from the cruel jaws of the Newhouse traps, and inwardly decided that after all he would never like to be a gatherer of pelts.

Later on Tolly Tip led them to the frozen creek, where they picked up a splendid mink and an otter as well. Shrewd and sly though these little wearers of fur coats were, they had not been able to withstand the temptation of the bait the trapper had placed in their haunts, with the result that they paid the penalty of their greed with their lives.

Finally the trio reached the pond where the beaver lived. It was, of course, ice covered, but the conical mound in the middle interested the boys very much. Paul took several pictures of it, with his two companions standing in the foreground, as positive evidence that the scouts had been on the spot.

They also examined the strong dam which the cunning animals had constructed across the creek, so as to hold a certain depth of water. When the boys saw the girth of the trees the sharp teeth of the beavers had cut into lengths in order to form the dam, the scouts were amazed.

"I'd give a lot to see them at work," declared Paul. "If I get half a chance, Tolly Tip, I'm going to come up here next spring if you'll send me word when they're on the job. It would be well worth the trip on horseback from Stanhope."

Upon arriving at the camp toward noon the boys and their guide found everything running smoothly, and a great deal accomplished. Jud had not come back as yet, but several times distant shots had been heard, and the boys were indulging in high hopes of what Jud would bring back.

"You musn't forget though," Paul warned these optimists, "that we're not the only pebbles on the beach. There are others in these woods, some of them with guns, and no mean hunters at that."

"Meaning the Lawson crowd," remarked Bobolink. "Your statement is quite true, for I've seen Hank do some mighty fine shooting in times past. He likes nothing so much as to wander around day after day in the fall, with a gun in his hands, just as old Rip Van Winkle used to do."

"Yes," remarked Jack, drily, "a gun in hand has served as an excuse for a loaf in more ways than getting the family bread."

"Hey!" cried Bluff, "there comes Jud right now. And look what he's got, will you?"



CHAPTER XXI

SETTING THE FLASHLIGHT TRAP

"Jud's holding up one measly rabbit, as sure as anything!" exclaimed Bobolink, with a vein of scorn in his voice, as became the lord of the hunt, who on the preceding day had actually brought down a young buck, and thus provided the camp with a feast for supper.

"We'd soon starve to death if we had to depend on poor old Jud for our grub!" remarked Tom Betts, with a sad shake of his head.

"All that waste of ammunition, and just a lone rabbit to show for it! They say successful hunters must be born, not made!" Sandy Griggs went on to say.

Other sarcastic remarks went the rounds, while Jud just stood meekly, seeming to be very much downcast.

"Are you all through?" he finally asked, looking up with a grin. "Because before you condemn me entirely as a poor stick of a hunter I want to ask Bobolink here, and Spider Sexton to walk over to that low oak tree you can see back yonder, and fetch in what they find in the fork. I caved on the home stretch and dropped my load there."

"Good for you, Jud!" exclaimed Paul. "I suspected something of the kind when I saw the soiled condition of the game pockets in your hunting-coat, and noticed that a partridge feather was sticking to your hair. Skip along, you two, and make amends for joshing Jud so."

Of course Bobolink and Spider fairly ran, and soon came back carrying seven plump partridges between them, at sight of which a great cheer arose. Like all fickle crowds, the boys now applauded Jud just as strongly as they had previously sought to poke fun at him.

"Oh! I don't deserve much credit, boys," he told them. "These birds just tree after you scare them up, and make easy shots. If they flew off like bullets, as they do in some parts of the country, that would be a bag worth boasting of. But they'll taste mighty fine, all the same, let me tell you!"

During the afternoon the scouts found many things to interest them. Tolly Tip, of course, had to take care of the pelts he had secured that day, and his manner of doing this interested some of the boys considerably.

He had a great many thin boards of peculiar pattern to which the skins were to be attached after stretching, so that they would dry in this shape.

"Most skins ye notice are cut open an' cured that way," the old woodsman explained to his audience, as he worked deftly with his knife; "but some kinds are cased, bein' taken off whole, and turned inside out to dry."

"I suppose you lay them near the fire, or out in the sun, to cure," remarked Tom Betts. "I know that's the way the Indians dry the pemmican that they use in the winter for food."

"Pelts are niver cured that way," explained the trapper, "because it'd make thim shrink. We kape the stretcher boards wid the skins out in the open air, but in the shade where the sun don't come. Whin they git to a certain stage it's proper to stack the same away in the cabin, kapin' a wary eye on 'em right along to prevint mould."

All such things proved of considerable interest to the scouts, most of whom had very little practical knowledge along these lines. They were eager to pick up useful information wherever it could be found, and on that account asked numerous questions, all of which Tolly Tip seemed delighted to answer.

So another nightfall found them, with everything moving along nicely.

"Guess your old barometer didn't hit it far wrong after all, Paul," remarked Sandy Griggs, about the time supper was nearly ready, and the boys were going in and out of the cabin on different errands.

"It has clouded up to be sure," said the scout-master, "and may snow at any time, though I hope it will hold off until to-morrow. I mean to set my camera trap to-night, you remember, with another comb of wild bee honey for a bear lure."

"I heard Tolly Tip saying a bit ago," continued Sandy, "that he didn't believe the storm would reach us for twelve hours or more. That would give you plenty of time to get your chance with old Bruin, who loves honey so."

"Jud's promised to go out with me and help set the trap," Paul remarked. "You know it's a walk of nearly a mile to the place, and these snowy woods are pretty lonely after the dark sets in."

"If Jud backs out because he's tired from his tramp this morning, Paul, call on me, will you?"

"Bobolink said the same thing," laughed the scout-master, "so I'm sure not to be left in the lurch. No need of more than one going with me though, and I guess I can count on Jud. It's hard to tire him."

"Wow! but those birds do smell good!" exclaimed Sandy, as he sniffed the air. "And that oven of Tolly Tip's, in which he says he often bakes bread, seems to do the work all right. Looks to me like one of the kind you get with a blue flame kerosene stove."

"Just what it is," Paul told him. "But it works splendidly on a red coal fire, too. We're going to try some baking-powder biscuits to-morrow, Bobolink says. He's tickled over finding the oven here."