The partridges were done to a turn, and never had those hungry boys sat down to a better feast than several of their number had prepared for them that night. The old woodsman complimented Bobolink, who was the chief cook.

"I ralely thought I could cook," Tolly Tip said, "but 'tis mesilf as takes a back sate whin such a connysure is around. And biscuits is it ye mane to thry in the mornin'? I'll make it a pint to hang around long enough to take lissons, for I confiss that up till now I niver did have much success with thim things."

Again some of the scouts had to warn Bobolink that he was in jeopardy of his life if he allowed his chest to swell up, as it seemed to be doing under such compliments.

After that wonderful supper had been disposed of, Paul busied himself with his camera, for he had several things to fix before it would be ready to serve as a trap to catch the picture of Bruin in the act of stealing the honey bait.

Jud fondled his shotgun, having thoughtfully replaced the bird shells with a couple of shells containing buckshot that he had brought along in the hope of getting a deer.

"No telling what we may run across when trapsing through the woods with a lantern after nightfall," he explained to Phil Towns, who was watching his operation with mild interest, not being a hunter himself.

"What would you do if you came face to face with the bear, or perhaps a panther?" asked Phil. "Tolly Tip said he saw one of the big cats last winter."

"Well, now, that's hardly a fair question," laughed Jud. "I'm too modest a fellow to go around blowing my own horn; but the chances are I wouldn't run. And if both barrels of my gun went off the plagued beast might stand in the way of getting hurt. Figure that out if you can, Phil."

After a little while Paul arose to his feet and proceeded to light the lantern they had provided for the outing.

"I'm ready if you are, Jud," he remarked, and shortly afterwards the two left the cabin, Tolly Tip once more repeating the plain directions, so that there need be no fear that the boys would get lost in the snowy woods.

Paul was too wise a woodsman to be careless, and he took Jud directly to the spot which the bear had visited the preceding night.

"Don't see anything of the creature around, do you?" asked Jud, nervously handling his gun as he spoke.

"Not a sign as yet," replied Paul. "But the chances are he'll remember the treat he found here last night, and come trotting along before many hours. That's what Tolly Tip told me, and he ought to know."

"Strikes me a bear is a pretty simple sort of an animal after all," chuckled Jud. "He must think that honey rains down somehow, and never questions but that he'll find more where the first comb lay. Tell me what to do, Paul, and I'll be only too glad to help you."

The camera was presently fixed just where Paul had decided on his previous visit would be the best place. Long experience had taught the lad just how to arrange it so that the animal of which he wished to get a flashlight picture would be compelled to approach along a certain avenue.

When it attempted to take the bait the cord would be pulled, and the cartridge exploded, producing the flash required to take the picture.

"There!" he said finally, after working for at least fifteen minutes, "everything is arranged to a dot, and we can start back home. If Mr. Bear comes nosing around here to-night, and starts to get that honeycomb, I reckon he'll hand me over something in return in the shape of a photograph."

"Here's hoping you'll get the best picture ever, Paul!" said Jud, earnestly, for he had been deeply impressed with the clever manner in which the photographer went about his duties.

They had gone almost a third of the way over the back trail when a thrilling sound came to their ears almost directly in the path they were following. Both boys came to a sudden halt, and as Jud started to raise his gun he exclaimed:

"Unless I miss my guess, Paul, that was one of the bobcats Tolly Tip told us about."



CHAPTER XXII

WAYLAID IN THE TIMBER

"Stand perfectly still, Jud," cried Paul, hastily, fearful that his impulsive companion might be tempted to do something careless.

"But if he starts to jump at us I ought to try to riddle him, Paul, don't you think?" pleaded the other, as he drew both hammers of his gun back.

Paul carried a camp hatchet, which he had made use of to fashion the approach to the trap. This he drew back menacingly, while gripping the lantern in his left hand.

"Of course, you can, if it comes to a fight, Jud," he answered, "but the cat may not mean to attack us after all. They're most vicious when they have young kits near by, and this isn't the time of year for that."

"Huh! Tolly Tip told me there was an unusual lot of these fellows around here this season, and mighty bold at that," Jud remarked, drily, as he searched the vicinity for some sign of a creeping form at which he could fire.

"Yes, I suppose the early coming of winter has made them extra hungry," admitted the scout-master; "though there seems to be plenty of game for them to catch in the way of rabbits, partridges and gray squirrels."

"Well, do we go on again, Paul, or are you thinking of camping here for the rest of the night?" demanded Jud, impatiently.

"Oh! we'll keep moving toward the home camp," Jud was informed. "But watch out every second of the time. That chap may be lying in a crotch of a tree, meaning to drop down on us."

A minute later, as they were moving slowly and cautiously along, Jud gave utterance to a low hiss.

"I see the rascal, Paul!" he said excitedly.

"Wait a bit, Jud," urged the other. "Don't shoot without being dead sure. A wounded bobcat is nothing to be laughed at, and we may get some beauty scratches before we can finish him. Tell me where you've glimpsed the beast."

"Look up to where I'm pointing with my gun, Paul, and you can see two yellow balls shining like phosphorus. Those are his eyes and if I aim right between them I'm bound to finish him."

Jud had hardly said this when there came a loud hoot, and the sound of winnowing wings reached them. At the same time the glowing, yellow spots suddenly vanished.

"Wow! what do you think of that for a fake?" growled Jud in disgust. "It was only an old owl after all, staring down at us. But say, Paul! that screech didn't come from him let me tell you; there's a cat around here somewhere."

As if to prove Jud spoke the truth there came just then another vicious snarl.

"Holy smoke! Paul, did you hear that?" ejaculated Jud, half turning. "Comes from behind us now, and I really believe there must be a pair of the creatures stalking us on the way home!"

"They usually hunt in couples," affirmed Paul, not showing any signs of alarm, though he clutched the hatchet a little more firmly in his right hand, and turned his head quickly from side to side, as though desirous of covering all the territory possible.

"Would it pay us to move around in a half circle, and let them keep the old path?" asked Jud, who could stand for one wildcat, but drew the line at a wholesale supply.

"I don't believe it would make any difference," returned the scout-master. "If they're bent on giving us trouble any sign of weakness on our part would only encourage them."

"What shall we do then?"

"Move right along and pay attention to our business," replied Paul. "If we find that we've got to fight, try to make sure of one cat when you fire. The second rascal we may have to tackle with hatchet and clubbed gun. Now walk ahead of me, so the light won't dazzle your eyes when I swing the lantern."

The two scouts moved along slowly, always on the alert. Paul kept the light going back and forth constantly, hoping that it might impress the bold bobcats with a sense of caution. Most wild animals are afraid of fire, and as a rule there is no better protection for the pedestrian when passing through the lonely woods than to have a blazing torch in his hand, with lusty lungs to shout occasionally.

"Hold on!" exclaimed Jud, after a short time had elapsed.

"What do you see now, another owl?" asked Paul, trying to make light of the situation, though truth to tell he felt a bit nervous.

"This isn't any old owl, Paul," asserted the boy with the gun. "Besides the glaring eyes, I can see his body on that limb we must pass under. Look yourself and tell me if that isn't his tail twitching back and forth?"

"Just what it is, Jud. I've seen our tabby cat do that when crouching to spring on a sparrow. The beast is ready to jump as soon as we come within range. Are you covering him, Jud?"

"Dead center. Trust me to damage his hide for him. Shall I shoot?"

"Use only one barrel, mind, Jud. You may need the other later on. Now, if you're all ready, let go!"

There was a loud bang as Jud pulled the trigger. Mingled with the report was a shrill scream of agony. Then something came flying through the air from an entirely different quarter.

"Look out! The second cat!" yelled Paul, striking savagely with his hatchet, which struck against a flying body, and hurled it backward in a heap.

The furious wildcat instantly recovered, and again assailed the two boys standing on the defensive. Jud had clubbed his gun, for at such close quarters he did not think he could shoot with any degree of accuracy.

Indeed, for some little time that beast kept both of them on the alert, and more than once sharp claws came in contact with the tough khaki garments worn by the scouts.

After a third furious onslaught which ended in the cat's being knocked over by a lucky stroke from Jud's gunstock, the animal seemed to conclude that the combat was too unequal. That last blow must have partly tamed its fiery spirit, for it jumped back out of sight, though they could still hear its savage snarling from some point near by.

Both lads were panting for breath. At the same time they felt flushed with victory. It was not every scout who could meet with such an adventure as this when in the snowy forest, and come out of it with credit.

"If he only lets me get a glimpse of his old hide," ventured Jud, grimly, "I'll riddle it for him, let me tell you! But say! I hope you don't mean to evacuate this gory battle-ground without taking a look to see whether I dropped that other beast or not?"

"Of course not, Jud! I'm a little curious myself to see whether your aim was as good as you believe. Let's move over that way, always keeping ready to repel boarders, remember. That second cat may get his wind, and come for us again."

"I hope he will, that's what!" said Jud, whose fighting blood was now up. "I dare him to tackle us again. Nothing would please me better, Paul."

A dozen paces took them to the vicinity of the tree in which Jud had sighted the crouching beast at which he had fired.

"Got him, all right, Paul!" he hastened to call out, with a vein of triumph in his excited voice. "He fell in a heap, and considering that there were twelve buckshot in that shell, and every one hit him, it isn't to be wondered at."

"A pretty big bobcat in the bargain, Jud, and well worth boasting over. Look at his long claws, and the sharp teeth back of those short lips. An ugly customer let me tell you. I'm glad we didn't have him on our shoulders, that's all."

"I'm bound to drag the creature all the way to the cabin, to show the boys," announced the successful marksman. "Now don't say anything against it, Paul. You see I'll hold my gun under my arm ready, and at the first sign of trouble I'll let go of the game and be ready to shoot."

"That's all right, Jud, you're entitled to your trophy, though the skin is pretty well riddled with that big hole through it. Still, Tolly Tip may be able to cure it so as to make a mat for your den at home. Let's be moving."

They could still hear that low and ominous growling and snarling. Sometimes it came from one side, and then again switched around to the other, as the angry cat tried to find an avenue that would appear to be undefended.

Every step of the way home they felt they were being watched by a pair of fiery eyes. Not for a second did either of the boys dream of abating their vigilance, for the sagacity of the wildcat would enable him to know when to make the attack.

Indeed, several times Jud dropped his trailing burden and half raised his gun, as he imagined he detected a suspicious movement somewhere close by. They proved to be false alarms, however, and nothing occurred on the way home to disturb them.

When not far from the cabin they heard loud voices, and caught the flicker of several blazing torches amidst the trees.

"It's Tolly Tip and the boys," announced Paul, as soon as he caught the sounds and saw the moving lights. "They must have heard the gunshot and our shouts, and are coming this way to find out what's the trouble."

A few minutes later they saw half a dozen hurrying figures approaching, several carrying guns. As the anxious ones discovered Paul and Jud they sent out a series of whoops which the returning scouts answered. And when those who had come from the cabin saw the dead bobcat, as well as listened to the story of the attack, they were loud in their praises of the valor of the adventurous pair.



CHAPTER XXIII

THE BLIZZARD

"Whew! but it's bitter cold this morning!" shouted Sandy Griggs, as he opened the cabin door and thrust his head out.

"Looks like a few flakes of snow shooting past, in the bargain," added Bobolink. "That means that the long expected storm is upon us."

Paul turned to Jack at hearing this, for both of them were hurriedly dressing after crawling out of their comfortable bunks.

"A little snow isn't going to make us hedge on that arrangement we made the last thing before turning in, I hope, Jack?" he asked, smilingly.

"I should say not!" came the prompt reply. "Besides, if it's going to put a foot or two of the feathery on the ground, it strikes me you've just got to get that expensive camera of yours again. I'm with you, Paul, right after breakfast."

Tolly Tip was also in somewhat of a hurry, wishing to make the round of his line of traps before the storm fully set in.

So it came about that Paul and his closest chum, after a cup of hot coffee and a meagre breakfast, hurried away from the cabin.

"We can get another batch when we come back, if they save any for us, you know," the scout-master remarked, as they opened the door and passed out.

"Kape your bearin's, lads," called the old woodsman. "If so be the storm comes along with a boom it'll puzzle ye to be sure av yer way. And by the same token, to be adrift in thim woods with a howler blowin' for thray days isn't any fun."

When the scouts once got started they found that the air was particularly keen. Both of them were glad they had taken the precaution to cover up their ears, and wear their warmest mittens.

"Something seems to tell me we're in for a regular blizzard this time," Jack remarked as they trudged manfully along, at times bowing their heads to the bitter wind that seemed to cut like a knife.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that turned out to be true," Paul contented himself with saying.

They did not exchange many words while breasting the gale, for it was the part of wisdom to keep their mouths closed as much as possible. Paul had taken note of the way to the spot where the camera trap had been set in the hope of catching Bruin in the act of taking the sweet bait.

A number of times he turned around and looked back. This was because he had accustomed himself to viewing his surroundings at various angles, which is a wise thing for a scout to do. Then when he tries to retrace his steps he will not find himself looking at a reverse picture that seems unfamiliar in his eyes.

In the course of time the boys arrived at their destination.

"Don't see anything upset around here," observed Paul, with a shade of growing disappointment in his voice; and then almost instantly adding in excitement: "But the bait's gone, all right—and yes! the cartridge has been fired. Good enough!"

"Here you can see faint signs of the tracks of the bear under this new coating of snow!" declared Jack, pointing down at his feet.

Paul, knowing that he would not go for his camera until after broad daylight, had managed to so arrange it, with a clever attachment of his own construction, that an exposure was made just at the second the cord firing the flashlight was drawn taut.

It was a time exposure—the shutter remaining open for a score of seconds before automatically closing again. This was arranged so that pictures could be taken on moonlight nights as well as dark ones. He had tried it on several previous occasions, and with very good results.

Brushing the accumulated snow from his camera, he quickly had the precious article in his possession.

"Nothing else to keep us here, is there, Paul?" asked Jud.

"No, and the sooner we strike a warm gait for the cabin the better," said the scout-master. "You notice, if anything, that wind is getting sharper right along, and the snow strikes you on the cheek like shot pellets, stinging furiously. So far as I'm concerned we can't make the camp any too soon."

Nevertheless, it might have been noticed that Paul did not hurry, in the sense that he forgot to keep his wits about him. The warning given by Tolly Tip was still fresh in his ears, and even without it Paul would hardly have allowed himself to become indiscreet or careless.

Jack, too, saw that they were following the exact line they had taken in coming out. As a scout he knew that the other did not get his bearings from any marks on the ground, such as might easily be obliterated by falling snow. Trees formed the basis of Paul's calculations. He particularly noticed every peculiarly shaped tree or growth upon the right side while going out, which would bring them on his left in returning.

In this fashion the scout-master virtually blazed a path as he went; for those trees gave him his points just as well as though they represented so many gashes made with a hatchet.

"I'm fairly wild to develop this film, and see whether the bear paid for his treat with a good picture," Paul ventured to say when they were about half way to the camp.

"Do you know what I was thinking about just then?" asked Jack.

"Something that had to do with other fellows, I'll be bound," replied the scout-master. "You were looking mighty serious, and I'd wager a cookey that you just remembered there were other fellows up here to be caught in the blizzard besides our crowd."

Jack laughed at hearing this.

"You certainly seem to be a wizard, Paul, to guess what was in my mind," he told his chum. "But it's just as you say. Sim Jeffreys told us the other day that they had come up with only a small amount of food along. If they've stayed around up to now they're apt to find themselves in a pretty bad pickle."

"That's a fact, Jack, if this storm keeps on for several days, and the snow happens to block all the paths out of the woods. Let's hope they gave it up, and went back home again. We haven't seen a thing of them since then, you remember."

Jack shook his head.

"You know how pig-headed Hank Lawson always is," he told his chum. "Once he gets started in a thing, he hates everlastingly to give up. He came here to bother us, I feel sure, and a little thing like a shortage of provisions wouldn't force him to call the game off."

"Then it's your opinion, is it, Jack, they're still in that hole among the rocks Sim spoke of?"

"Chances are three to one it's that way," quickly replied Jack. "They have guns, and could get some game that way, for they know how to hunt. Then if it came to the worst perhaps Hank would try to sneak around our cabin, hoping to find a chance to steal some of our supplies."

A short time later they sighted the cabin through the now thickly falling snow, and both boys felt very glad to be able to get under shelter.

Tolly Tip did not return until some hours had passed. By that time the snow carried by a furious wind that howled madly around the corners, was sweeping past the windows of the cabin like a cloud of dust.

Everybody was glad when the old woodsman arrived. He flung several prizes down on the floor, not having taken the time to detach the pelts.

"'Tis a screecher av a blizzard we're after havin' drop in on us, by the same token," he said, with quivering lips, as he stretched out his hands toward the cheerful blaze of the fire.

Being very eager to ascertain what measure of success had fallen to him with regard to the bear episode, Paul proceeded to develop the film.

When he rejoined the other boys in the front room some time later he was holding up the developed film, still dripping with water.

"The best flashlight I ever got, let me tell you!" Paul exclaimed. At this there was a cheer and a rush to see the film.

There was the bear, looking very much astonished at the sudden brilliant illumination which must have seemed like a flash of lightning to him.

All day long the storm howled, the snow drifted and scurried around the cabin. Whenever the boys went for wood they had to be very careful lest they lose their way even in such a short distance, for it was impossible to see five feet ahead. When they went to bed that night the same conditions held good, and every one felt that they were in the grip of the greatest blizzard known for ten years.



CHAPTER XXIV

THE DUTY OF THE SCOUT

When two days had passed and the storm still raged, the scouts began to feel more anxious than ever. The snow continued to sweep past the cabin in blinding sheets. It was difficult to know whether all this came from above, or if some was snatched up from the ground and whirled about afresh.

In some places enormous drifts abounded, while other more exposed spots had been actually swept bare by the wind.

The scouts had not suffered in the least, save mentally. The cabin proved to be fairly warm, thanks to the great fire they kept going day and night; and they certainly had no reason to fear for any lack of provisions with which to satisfy their ever present appetites.

Still, from time to time, murmurs could be heard.

"One thing sure!" Sandy Griggs was saying toward noon on this third day of the blizzard, "this storm is going to upset a whole lot of our plans."

"Knock 'em into a jiffy!" added Bluff.

"We'll never be able to skate down the creek to the lake, if it's covered with two feet of snow," Sandy growled.

"Oh! for all we know," laughed Paul, "this wind has been a good friend to us, and may keep the smooth ice clear of snow. We'd better not cry until we know the milk has really been spilled."

"But any way," Bluff continued, bound to find some cause for the gloomy feelings that clung like a wet blanket, "we'll never be able to run our iceboats back home. Chances are we'll have to drag them most of the way."

"All right, then," Paul told him, "we'll make the best of a bad bargain. If you only look hard enough, Bluff and Sandy, you'll find the silver lining to every cloud. And no matter how the storm upsets some of our plans we ought to be thankful we've got such a snug shelter, and plenty of good things to eat—thanks to Mr. Garrity."

"Yes, that's what I just had in mind, Paul," spoke up Bobolink. "Now, you all needn't begin to grin at me when I say that. I was thinking more about the fellows who may be shivering and hungry, than of our own well-fed crowd."

"Oh! The Lawsons!" exclaimed Bluff. "That's a fact. While we're having such a royal time of it here they may be up against it good and hard."

Perhaps all of the boys had from time to time allowed their thoughts to stray away, and mental pictures of the Lawson crowd suffering from hunger and cold intruded upon their minds. They forgot whatever they chanced to be doing at that moment, and came around Paul.

"In one way it would serve them right if they did get a little rough experience," observed Spider Sexton, who perhaps had suffered more at the hands of the Stanhope bully and his set than any of the other scouts.

"Oh, that sort of remark hardly becomes you, Spider," Paul reminded him. "If you remember some of the rules and regulations to which you subscribed when joining the organization you'll find that scouts have no business to feel bitter toward any one, especially when the fellows they look on as enemies may be suffering."

"Excuse me, Paul, I guess I spoke without thinking," said Spider, with due humility. "And to prove it I'm going to suggest that we figure out some way we might be of help to Hank and his lot."

"That's more like it, Spider!" the scout-master exclaimed, as though pleased. "None of us fancy those fellows, because so far we've failed to make any impression on them. Several times we've tried to make an advance, but they jeered at us, and seemed to think it was only fear on our part that made us try to throw a bridge across the chasm separating us. It's going to be different if, as we half believe, they're in serious trouble."

"But Paul, what could we do to help them?" demanded Bluff.

"With this storm raging to beat the band," added Tom Betts, "it would be as much as our lives were worth to venture out. Why, you can't see ten feet away; and we'd be going around in a circle until the cold got us in the end."

"Hold on, fellows, don't jump at conclusions so fast," Paul warned them. "I'd be the last one to advise going out into the woods with the storm keeping up. But Tolly Tip told me the snow stopped hours ago. What we see whirling around is only swept by the wind, for it's as dry as powder you know. And even the wind seems to be dying down now, and is blowing in spasms."

"Paul, you're right, as you nearly always are," Jack affirmed, after he had pressed his nose against the cold glass of the little window. "And say! will you believe me when I say that I can see a small patch of blue sky up yonder—big enough to make a Dutchmen's pair of breeches?"

"Hurrah! that settles the old blizzard then!" cried Sandy Griggs. "You all remember, don't you, the old saying, 'between eleven and two it'll tell you what it's going to do?' I've seen it work out lots of times."

"Yes," retorted Jud, "and fail as often in the bargain. That's one of the exploded signs. When they come out right you believe in 'em, and when they miss, why you just forget all about it, and go on hoping. But in this case I reckon the old storm must have blown itself about out, and we can look for a week of cold, clear weather now."

"We'll wait until after lunch," said Paul, in his decided fashion that the boys knew so well; "then, if things brighten up, we'll see what we can do. Those fellows must be suffering, more or less, and it's our duty to help them, no matter whether they bother to thank us or not."

"Scouts don't want thanks when they do their duty," said Phil Towns, grandly. "But I suppose you'll hardly pick me out as one of the rescue party, Paul?"

"I'd rather have the hardiest fellows along with me, Phil," replied the scout-master, kindly; "though I'm glad to know you feel willing to serve. It counts just as much to want to go, as to be allowed to be one of the number."

Bobolink especially showed great delight over the possibility of their setting out to relieve the enemy in distress. A dozen times he went to the door and passed out, under the plea that they might as well have plenty of wood in the cabin; but on every occasion upon his return he would report the progress of the clearing skies.

"Have the sun shining right away now, boys," he finally announced, with a beaming face. "And the wind's letting up, more or less. Times are when you can see as far as a hundred feet. And say! it's a wonderful sight let me tell you."

Noon came and they sat down to the lunch that had been prepared for them, this time by Frank and Spider, Bobolink having begged off. The sun was shining in a dazzling way upon the white-coated ground. It looked like fairyland the boys declared, though but little of the snow had remained on the oaks, beeches and other forest trees, owing to the furious and persistent wind.

The hemlocks, however, were bending low with the weight that pressed upon their branches. Some of the smaller ones looked like snow pyramids, and it was plain to be seen that during the remainder of the winter most of this snow was bound to hang on.

"If we only had a few pairs of snow-shoes like Tolly Tip's here," suggested Bobolink, enthusiastically, "we might skim along over ten-foot drifts, and never bother about things."

"Yes," Jud told him, a bit sarcastically, "if we knew just how to manage the bally things, we might. But it isn't so easy as you think. Most of us would soon be taking headers, and finding ourselves upside down. It's a trick that has to be learned; and some fellows never can get the hang, I've been told."

"Well, there's no need of our talking about it," interposed Paul, "because there's only one pair of snow-shoes in the cabin, and all of us can't wear those. But Tolly Tip says we're apt to find avenues swept in the snow by the wind, where we can walk for the most part on clear ground, with but few drifts to wade through."

"It may make a longer journey av the same," the old woodsman explained; "but if luck favors us we'll git there in due time, I belave, if so be ye settle on goin'."

Nothing could hold the scouts back, it seemed. This idea of setting forth to succor an enemy in distress had taken a firm hold upon their imaginations.

Besides, those days when they were shut up in the storm-besieged cabin had been fearfully long to their active spirits, and on this account, too, they welcomed the chance to do something.

There could no longer be any doubt that the storm had blown itself out, for the sky was rapidly clearing. The air remained bitter cold, and Paul advised those whom he selected to accompany him to wrap themselves up with additional care, for he did not wish to have them take the chance of frosting their toes and their noses.

Those who were fortunate enough to be drafted for the trip were Jack, Jud, Bobolink and Tom Betts. Some of the others felt slighted, but tried to be as cheerful over their disappointment as possible.

Of course, Tolly Tip was to accompany them, for he would not have allowed the boys to set out without his guidance, under such changed and really hazardous conditions. A trained woodsman would be necessary in order to insure the boys against possible disaster in the storm-bound forest.

Well bundled up, and bearing packs on their backs consisting in the main of provisions, the six started off, followed by the cheers and good wishes of their comrades, and were soon lost to view amidst the white aisles of the forest.



CHAPTER XXV

AMONG THE SNOWDRIFTS

"This is hard work after all, let me own up!" announced Jud Elderkin, after they had been pushing on for nearly half an hour.

"To tell you the truth," admitted Tom Betts, "we've turned this way and that so often now I don't know whether we're heading straight."

"Trust Tolly Tip for that," urged Paul. "And besides, if you'd taken your bearings as you should have done when starting, you could tell from the position of the sun that right now we're going straight toward that far-off hill."

"Good for ye, Paul!" commented the guide, who was deeply interested in finding out just how much woods lore these scouts had picked up during their many camp experiences.

"Well, here's where we're up against it good and hard," observed Bobolink.

The clear space they had been following came to an abrupt end, and before them lay a great drift of snow, at least five or six feet deep.

"Do we try to flounder through this, or turn around and try another way?" asked Jud, looking as though, if the decision rested with him, he would only too gladly attack the heap of snow.

Before deciding, Tolly Tip climbed into the fork of a tree. From this point of vantage he was able to see beyond the drift. He dropped down presently with a grin on his face.

"It's clear ag'in beyant the hape av snow; so we'd better try to butt through the same," he told them. "Let me go first, and start a path. Whin I play out one av the rist av ye may take the lead. Come along, boys."

The relief party plunged into the great drift with merry shouts, being filled with the enthusiasm of abounding youth. The big woodsman kept on until even he began to tire of the work; or else guessed that Jud was eager to take his place.

In time they had passed beyond the obstacle, and again found themselves traversing a windswept avenue that led in the general direction they wished to go.

A short time afterwards Jud uttered a shout.

"Hold on a minute, fellows!" he called out.

"What ails you now, Jud—got a cramp in your leg, or do you think it's time we stopped for a bite of lunch?" demanded Bobolink.

"Here's the plain track of a deer," answered Jud, pointing down as he spoke. "And it was made only a short time ago you can see, because while the wind blows the snow some every little while, it hasn't filled the track."

"That's good scout logic, Jud," affirmed Paul; and even the old woodsman nodded his head as though he liked to hear the boy think things out so cleverly.

"Here it turns into this blind path," continued Jud, "which I'd like to wager ends before long in a big drift. Like as not if we chose to follow, we'd find Mr. Stag wallowing in the deepest kind of snow, and making an easy mark."

"Well, we can't turn aside just now, to hunt a poor deer that is having a hard enough time of it keeping life in his body," said Tom Betts, aggressively.

"No, we'll let the poor beast have his chance to get away," said the scout-master. "We've started out on a definite errand, and mustn't allow ourselves to be drawn aside. So put your best foot forward again, Jud."

Jud looked a little loth to give up the chance to get the deer, a thing he had really set his mind on. However, there would still be plenty of time to accomplish this, and equal Bobolink's feat, whereby the other had been able to procure fresh venison for the camp.

"How far along do you think we are, Tolly Tip?" asked Tom Betts, after more time had passed, and they began to feel the result of their struggle.

"More'n half way there, I'd be sayin'," the other replied. "Though it do same as if the drifts might be gittin' heavier the closer we draw to the hill. Av ye fale tired mebbe we'd better rist up a bit."

"What, me tired!" exclaimed Tom, disdainfully, at the same time putting new life in his movements. "Why, I've hardly begun to get started so far. Huh! I'm good for all day at this sort of work, I'm so fond of ploughing through the snow."

The forest seemed very solemn and silent. Doubtless nearly all of the little woods folk found themselves buried under the heavy fall of snow, and it would take time for them to tunnel out.

"Listen to the crows cawing as they fly overhead," said Jud, presently.

"They're gathering in a big flock over there somewhere," remarked Paul.

"They're having what they call a crow caucus," explained Jack. "They do say that the birds carry on in the queerest way, just as if they were holding court to try one of their number that had done something criminal."

"More likely they're getting together to figure it out where they can find the next meal," suggested Bobolink, sensibly. "This snow must have covered up pretty nearly everything. But at the worst they can emigrate to the South—can get to Virginia, where the climate isn't so severe."

As they pushed their way onward the boys indulged in other discussions along such lines as this. They were wideawake, and observed every little thing that occurred around them, and as these often pertained to the science of woodcraft which they delighted to study, they found many opportunities to give forth their opinions.

"We ought to be getting pretty near that old hill, seems to me," observed Tom, when another hour had dragged by. Then he quickly added: "Not that I care much, you know, only the sooner we see if Hank and his cronies are in want the better it'll be."

"There it is right now, dead ahead of us!" exclaimed Jud, who had a pair of wonderfully keen eyes.

Through an opening among the trees they could all see the hill beyond, although it was so covered with snow that its outlines seemed shadowy, and it was little wonder none of them had noticed it before.

"Not more'n a quarter of a mile off, I should say," declared Tom Betts, unable to hide fully the sense of pleasure the discovery gave him.

"But all the same we'll have a pretty tough time making it," remarked Jud. "It strikes me the snow is deeper right here than in any place yet, and the paths fewer in number."

"How is that, Tolly Tip?" asked Bobolink.

"Ye say, the hill shunted off some av the wind," explained the other without any hesitation; "and so the snow could drop to the ground without bein' blown about so wild like. 'Tis a fine blanket lies ahead av us, and we'll have to do some harrd wadin' to make our way through the same."

"Hit her up!" cried Tom, valiantly. "Who cares for such a little thing as snow piles?"

They floundered along as best they could. It turned out to be anything but child's play, and tested their muscular abilities from time to time.

In vain they looked about them as they drew near the hill; there was not a single trace of any one moving around. Some of the scouts began to feel very queerly as they stared furtively at the snow covered elevation. It reminded them of a white tomb, for somewhere underneath it they feared the four boys from Stanhope might be buried, too weak to dig their way out.

Tolly Tip led them on with unerring fidelity.

"How does it come, Tolly Tip," asked the curious Jud as they toiled onward, "that you remember this hole in the rocks so well?"

"That's an aisy question to answer," replied the other, with one of his smiles. "Sure 'twas some years ago that I do be having a nate little ruction with the only bear I iver kilt in this section. He was a rouser in the bargain, I'd be after tillin' ye. I had crawled into the rift in the rocks to say where it lid whin I found mesilf up aginst it."

"Oh! in that case I can see that you would be apt to remember the hole in the rocks always," commented Jud. "A fellow is apt to see that kind of thing many a time in his dreams. So those fellows happened on the old bear den, did they?"

"We're clost up to the same now, I'm plazed to till ye," announced the guide. "If ye cast an eye beyont ye'll mebbe notice that spur av rock that stands out like a ploughshare. Jist behind the same we'll strike the crack in the rocks, and like as not find it filled to the brim wid the snow."

When the five scouts and their guide stood alongside the spur of rock, looking down into the cavity now hidden by ten feet of snow, they were somehow forced to turn uneasy faces toward one another. It was deathly still there, and not a sign could they see to indicate that under the shroud of snow the four Stanhope boys might be imprisoned, almost dead with cold and hunger.



CHAPTER XXVI

DUG OUT

The boys realized that they had heavy work before them if they hoped to dig a way down through that mass of snow and reach the cleft in the rocks.

"Just mark out where we have to get busy, Tolly Tip," called out Bobolink, after they had put aside their packs, and primed themselves for work, "and see how we can dig."

"I speak for first turn with the snow shovel!" cried Jud. "It'll bring a new set of muscles into play, for one thing, and that means relief. I own up that my legs feel pretty well tuckered out."

The woodsman, however, chose to begin the work himself. After taking his bearings carefully, he began to dig the snow shovel deep down, and cast the loosely packed stuff aside.

In order to reach the cleft in the rocks they would have to cut a tunnel through possibly twenty feet or more of snow.

So impatient was Jud to take a hand that he soon begged the guide to let him have a turn at the work. Tolly Tip prowled around, and some of the boys wondered what he could be doing until he came back presently with great news.

"'Tis smoke I do be after smellin' beyant there!" he told them.

"Smoke!" exclaimed Bobolink, staring up the side of the white hill. "How can that be when there isn't the first sign of a fire?"

"You don't catch on to the idea, Bobolink," explained Paul. "He means that those in the cave must have some sort of fire going, and the smoke finds its way out through some small crevices that lie under a thin blanket of snow. Am I right there, Tolly Tip?"

"Ye sure hit the nail on the head, Paul," he was told by the guide.

"Well, that's good news," admitted Bobolink, with a look of relief on his face. "If they've got enough wood to keep even a small fire going, they won't be found frozen to death anyhow."

"And," continued Jud, who had given the shovel over to Jack, "it takes some days to really starve a fellow, I understand. You see I've been reading lately about the adventures of the Dr. Kane exploring company up in the frozen Arctic regions. When it got to the worst they staved off starvation by making soup of their boots."

"But you mustn't forget," interposed Bobolink, "that their boots were made of skins, and not of the tough leather we use these days. I'd like to see Hank Lawson gnawing on one of his old hide shoes, that's what! It couldn't be done, any way you fix it."

The hole grew by degrees, but very slowly. It seemed as though tons and tons of snow must have been swept over the crest of the hill, to settle down in every cavity it could find.

"We're getting there, all right!" declared Bobolink, after he had taken his turn, and in turn handed over the shovel to Paul.

"Oh! the Fourth of July is coming too, never fear!" jeered Jud, who was in a grumbling mood.

"Why, Tolly Tip here says we've made good progress already," Tom Betts declared, merely to combat the spirit manifested by Jud, "and that we'll soon be half-way through the pile. If it were three times as big we'd get there in the end, because this is a never-say-die bunch of scouts, you bet!"

"Oh! I was only fooling," chuckled Jud, feeling ashamed of his grumbling. "Of course, we'll manage it, by hook or by crook. Show me the time the Banner Boy Scouts ever failed, will you, when they'd set their minds on doing anything worth while? We're bound to get there."

The work went on. By turns the members of the relief party applied themselves to the task of cutting a way through the snow heap, and when each had come up for the third time it became apparent that they were near the end of their labor, for signs of the rock began to appear.

Inspired by this fact they took on additional energy, and the way the snow flew under the vigorous attack of Jud was pretty good evidence that he still believed in their ultimate success.

"Now watch my smoke!" remarked Tom Betts, as he took the shovel in his turn and proceeded to show them what he could do. "I've made up my mind to keep everlastingly at it till I strike solid rock. And I'll do it, or burst the boiler."

He had hardly spoken when they heard the plunging metal shovel strike something that gave out a positive "chink," and somehow that sound seemed to spell success.

"Guess you've gone and done it, Tom!" declared Jud, with something like a touch of chagrin in his voice, for Jud had been hoping he would be the lucky one to show the first results.

There was no slackening of their ardor, and the boys continued to shovel the snow out of the hole at a prodigious rate until every one could easily see the crevice in the rocks.

"Listen!" exclaimed Jud just then.

"Oh! what do you think you heard?" asked Bobolink.

"I don't know whether it was the shovel scraping over the rock or a human groan," Jud continued, looking unusually serious.

They all listened, but could hear nothing except the cold wind sighing through some of the trees not far away.

"Let me finish the work for you, Tom," suggested Paul, seeing that Tom Betts was pretty well exhausted from his labors.

"I guess I will, Paul, because I'm nearly tuckered out," admitted the persistent worker, as he handed the implement over, and pushed back, though still remaining in the hole.

Paul was not very long in clearing away the last of the snow that clogged the entrance to the old bears' den. They could then mark the line of the gaping hole that cleft the rock, and which served as an antechamber to the cavity that lay beyond.

"That does it, Paul," said Jack, softly; though just why he spoke half under his breath he could not have explained if he had been asked, except that, somehow, it seemed as though they were very close to some sort of tragedy.

The shovel was put aside. It had done its part of the work, and could rest. And everybody prepared to follow Paul as he pushed after the guide into the crevice leading to the cave.

The smell of wood smoke was now very strong, and all of them could catch it.

So long as the entrapped boys had a fire there was no fear that they would perish from the cold. Moreover, down under the rocks and the snow the atmosphere could hardly be anything as severe as in the open. Indeed Paul had been in many caves where the temperature remained about the same day in and day out, through the whole year.

Coming from the bewildering and dazzling snow fields it was little wonder that none of them could see plainly at the moment they started into the bears' den. By degrees, as their eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness that held sway below, they would be able to distinguish objects, and make discoveries.

Stronger grew the pungent odor of smoke. It was not unpleasant at all, and to some of the scouts most welcome, bearing as it did a message of hope, and the assurance that things had not yet come to the last stretch.

Half turning as he groped his way onward, the guide pointed to something ahead—at least Paul who came next in line fancied that Tolly Tip was trying to draw his attention to that quarter.

In turn he performed the same office for the next boy, and thus the intelligence was passed along the line, from hand to hand.

They could, by straining their eyes, discover some half huddled figures just beyond. A faint light showed where the dying fire lay; and even as they looked one of the partly seen figures was seen to stir, and after this they noticed that a little flame had started up.

Paul believed that the very last stick of wood was on the fire and nearing the end.

Bobolink could not help giving a low cry of commiseration. The sound must have been heard by those who were huddled around the miserable fire, for they scrambled to their knees. As the tiny blaze sprang up just then, it showed the scouts the four Stanhope boys looking pinched and wan, with their eyes staring the wonder they must have felt at sight of the newcomers.

Hank was seen to jab his knuckles into his eyes as though unable fully to believe what he beheld. Then he held out both hands beseechingly toward the newcomers. They would never be able to forget the genuine pain contained in his voice as he half groaned:

"Oh! have you come to save us? Give us somethin' to eat, won't you? We're starvin', starvin', I tell you!"



CHAPTER XXVII

"FIRST AID"

Possibly the case was not quite as bad as Hank declared, but for all that those four lads were certainly in a bad way.

Paul took charge of affairs at once, as became the acting scout-master of the troop.

"It's a good thing we thought to pick up some wood as we came along," he remarked. "Fetch it in, boys, and get this fire going the first thing. Then we'll make a pot of coffee to begin with."

"Coffee!" echoed the four late prisoners of the cave. "Oh, my stars! why! we went and forgot to bring any along with us. Coffee! that sounds good to us!"

"That's only a beginning," said Bobolink, as he came back with his arms filled with sticks, which he began to lay upon the almost dead fire. "We've got ham and biscuits, Boston baked beans, potatoes, corn, grits, and lots of other things. Just give us a little time to do some cooking, and you'll get all you can cram down."

Paul knew the hungry boys would suffer all sorts of tortures while waiting for the meal to be cooked. On this account he saw that they were given some crackers and cheese, to take the keen edge of their voracious appetites off.

It was a strange spectacle in that hole amidst the rocks, with the fire leaping up, Bobolink bending over it doing the cooking with his customary vim, the rest of the scouts gathered around, and those four wretched fellows munching away for dear life, as they sniffed the coffee beginning to scent the air with its fragrance.

As soon as this was ready Paul poured out some, added condensed milk, and handed the tin cup to Hank.

He was really surprised to see the rough fellow turn immediately and give it to Sid Jeffreys and hear him say:

"I reckon you need it the wust, Sid; git the stuff inside in a hurry."

Then Paul remembered that Sid had recently been injured. And somehow he began to understand that even such a hardened case as Hank Lawson, in whom no one seemed ready to place any trust, might have a small, tender spot in his heart. He could not be all bad, Paul decided.

Hank, however, did not refuse to accept the second cup, and hastily drain it. Apparently, he believed the leader should have first choice, and meant to impress this fact upon his satellites.

What to do about the four boys had puzzled Paul a little. To allow them to accompany him and his chums back to Deer Head Lodge would make the remainder of their outing a very disagreeable affair. Besides, there was really no room for any more guests under that hospitable roof; and certainly Tolly Tip would not feel in the humor to invite them.

So Paul had to figure it out in some other way. While Hank and his three cronies were eating savagely, Bobolink having finished preparing the odd meal for them, Paul took occasion to sound the one who occupied the position of chief.

"We've brought over enough grub to last you four a week," he started in to say, when Hank interrupted him.

"We sure think you're white this time, Paul Morrison, an' I ain't a-goin' to hold back in sayin' so either, just 'cause we've been scrappin' with your crowd right along. Guess you know that we come up here partly to bother you fellers. I'm right glad we ain't had a chance to play any tricks on you up to now. An' b'lieve me! it's goin' to be a long time 'fore we'll forgit this thing."

Paul was, of course, well pleased to hear this. He feared, however, that in a month from that time Hank was apt to forget the obligations he owed the scouts, and likely enough would commence to annoy them again.

"The question that bothers me just now," Paul continued, "is what you ought to do. I don't suppose any of you care to stay up here much longer, now that this blizzard has spoiled all of the fun of camping out?"

"I've had about all I want of the game," admitted Jud Mabley, promptly.

"Count me in too," added Sim Jeffreys. "I feel pretty sick of the whole business, and we can't get back home any too soon to suit me."

"Same here," muttered Bud Phillips, who had kept looking at Paul for some time in a furtive way, as though he had something on his mind that he was strongly tempted to communicate to the scout leader.

"So you see that settles it," grinned Hank. "Even if I wanted to hang out here all the rest o' the holidays, three agin one is most too much. We'd be havin' all sorts o' rows every day. Yep, we'll start fur home the fust chance we git."

That pleased Paul, and was what he had hoped to hear.

"Of course," he went on to say to Hank, "it's a whole lot shorter cutting across country to Stanhope than going around by way of Lake Tokala and the old canal that leads from the Radway into the Bushkill river; but you want to be mighty careful of your compass points, or you might get lost."

"Sure thing, Paul," remarked the other, confidently; "but that's my long suit, you ought to know. Never yet did git lost, an' I reckon I ain't a-goin' to do it now. I'll lay it all out and make the riffle, don't you worry about that same."

"We came over that way, you know," interrupted Jud Mabley, "and left blazes on the trees in places where we thought we might take the wrong trail goin' back."

"That was a wise thing to do," said Paul, "and shows that some of you ought to be in the scout movement, for you've got it in you to make good."

"Tried it once you 'member, Paul, but your crowd didn't want anything to do wi' me, so I cut it out," grumbled Jud, though he could not help looking pleased at being complimented on the woodcraft of their crowd by such an authority as the scout-master.

Paul turned from Jud and looked straight into the face of the leader.

"Hank," he said earnestly, "you know just as well as I do that Jud was blackballed not because we didn't believe he had it in him to make an excellent scout, but for another reason. Excuse me if I'm blunt about it, but I mean it just as much for your good as I did bringing this food all the way over here to help you out. Every one of you has it in him to make a good scout, if only he would change certain ways he now has."

Hank looked down at his feet, and remained silent for a brief time, during which he doubtless was having something of an inward fight.

"All right, Paul," he suddenly remarked, looking up again grimly. "I ain't a-goin' to git mad 'cause you speak so plain. If you fellers'd go to all the trouble to fight your way over here, and fetch us this food, I reckon as how I've been readin' you the wrong way."

"You have, Hank! You certainly have!" affirmed Bobolink, who was greatly interested in this effort on the part of Paul to bring about a change in the boys who had taken such malicious delight in annoying the scouts whenever the opportunity arose.

"Believe this, Hank," said Paul earnestly; "if you only chose to change your ways, none of you would be blackballed the next time you tried to join the organization. There's no earthly reason why all of you shouldn't be accepted as candidates if only you can subscribe to the iron-bound rules we work under, and which every one of us has to obey. Think it over, won't you, boys? It might pay you."

"Reckon we will, Paul," muttered Hank, though he shook his head at the same time a little doubtfully, as though deep down in his heart he feared they could never overcome the feeling of prejudice that had grown up against them in Stanhope.

"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to start back home," continued Paul, thinking he had already said enough to fulfill his duty as a scout. "In another day or so it's likely to warm up a bit, and you'll find it more comfortable on the way."

"Just what I was thinkin' myself, Paul," agreed Hank. "We've got stacks of grub now, thanks to you and your crowd, and we c'n git enough wood in places, now you've opened our dooryard fur us. Yep, we'll hang out till it feels some warmer, and then cut sticks fur home."

"Here's a rough map I made out that may be useful to you, Hank," continued the scout-master, "if you happen to lose your blazed trail. Tolly Tip helped me get it up, and as he's been across to Stanhope many times he ought to know every foot of the way."

"It might come in handy, an' I'll take the same with thanks, Paul," Hank observed, with all his customary aggressive ways lacking. There is nothing so well calculated to take the spirit out of a boy as acute hunger.

When they had talked for some little time longer, Paul decided that it was time for him and his chums to start back to the cabin. Those afternoons in late December were very short, and night would be down upon them almost before they knew it.

It was just then that Bud Phillips seemed to have made up his mind to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since he realized under what great obligations the scouts had placed him and his partners.

"Seems like I oughtn't to let you get away from here, Paul, without tellin' somethin' that I reckon might be interestin' to you all," he went on to say.

"All right, Bud, we'll be glad to hear it," the scout-master observed, with a smile, "though for the life of me I can't guess what it's all about."

"Go ahead Bud, and dish it out!" urged Bobolink, impatiently.



CHAPTER XXVIII

MORE STARTLING NEWS

Bud Phillips looked somewhat confused. Apparently, he did not figure any too well in what he felt it his duty to confess to Paul and his chums.

"I'm ashamed that I kept mum about it when the old man accused some of you fellers of startin' the fire, an' gettin' at his tight wad," he went on to say; and it can be easily understood that this beginning gave Paul a start.

"Oh! it's about that ugly business, is it?" the scout-master remarked, frowning a little, for, naturally, he instantly conceived the idea that Hank and his three reckless cronies must have had a hand in that outrage.

That Hank guessed what was flitting through the other's mind was plainly indicated by the haste with which he cried out:

"Don't git it in your head we had anything to do with that fire, Paul, nor yet with tappin' the old man's safe. I know we ain't got any too good reputations 'round Stanhope, but it's to be hoped we ain't dropped so low as that. Skip along, Bud, an' tell what you saw."

"Why, it's this way," continued the narrator, eagerly. "I chanced to be Johnny-on-the-spot that night, being 'mong the first to arrive when old Briggs started to scream that his store was afire. Never mind how it came that way. And Paul, I saw two figures a-runnin' away right when I came up, runnin' like they might be afraid o' bein' seen an' grabbed."

"Were they close enough for you to notice who they were?" asked Paul, taking a deep interest in the narration, since he and his chums had been accused of doing the deed in the presence of many of Stanhope's good people.

"Oh! I saw 'em lookin' back as they hurried away," admitted Bud. "And, Paul, they were those same two tramps we had the trouble with that day. You remember we ran the pair out o' town, bombardin' 'em with rocks."

Paul could plainly see the happening in his memory, with the two hoboes turning when at a safe distance to shake their fists at the boys. Evidently their rough reception all around had caused them to have a bitter feeling toward the citizens of Stanhope, and they had come back later on to have their revenge.

"Now that I think of it," Paul went on to say, "they had just come out of the store when you ran afoul of the pair. The chances are that Mr. Briggs treated them as sourly as he does all their class, and they were furiously mad at him."

"Yes," added Bobolink, "and while in there they must have noticed where he had his safe. Maybe they saw him putting money in it."

"I'm glad you told me this, Bud," the scout-master confessed, "because it goes part way to clear up the mystery of that fire and robbery."

"Bud was meanin' to tell all about it when we got back," said Hank. "He kept still because he heard Briggs accuse you scouts of the fire racket, and Bud just then thought it too good a joke to spoil. But we've been talkin' it over, and come to the conclusion we owed it to the community to set 'em right."

This sounded rather lofty, but Paul guessed that there must be another reason back of the determination to tell. These fellows had decided that possibly suspicion might be directed toward them, and, as they had had enough trouble already without taking more on their shoulders, it would be the part of wisdom to start the ball rolling in the right quarter.

"Well, we must be going," said Paul.

"Do you reckon on stayin' out your time up here?" queried Hank.

"We haven't decided that yet," replied the scout-master; "but the chances are we shall conclude to cut the trip short and get back home. This heavy snow has spoiled a good many plans we'd laid out; and we might be having a better time of it with the rest of the fellows at home. We're going to talk it over and by to-morrow settle on our plans."

"Here's where we get busy and start on the return hike," announced Tom Betts, just as cheerily as though he were not already feeling the effects of that stiff plunge through the deep snowdrifts, and secretly faced the return trip with more or less apprehension.

Hank and his followers came out of their den to wave a hearty farewell after their late rescuers. Just then all animosities had died in their hearts, and they could look upon the scouts without the least bitterness.

"Sounds all mighty fine, I must say," remarked Bobolink, as they pushed along, after losing sight of the quartette standing at the foot of the snowy hill, "but somehow I don't seem to feel it's going to last. That Hank's got it in him to be a tough character, and it'd be next door to a miracle if he ever changed his ways."

"Do you think he will, Paul?" demanded Jud, flatly.

"Ask me something easy," laughed the scout-master. "It all depends on Hank himself. If he once took a notion to make a man of himself, I believe he could do it no matter what happened. He's got the grit, but without the real desire that isn't going to count for much. Time alone will tell."

"Well, we've seen something like that happen right in our town, you know," Bobolink went on to say, reflectively, as he trudged along close to the heels of the one in front of him, for they were going "Indian-file," following the sinuous trail made during their preceding trip.

"I was talking with the other Jud," remarked Jud Elderkin just then, "and he gave me a pointer that might be worth something. I don't know just why he chose to confide it to me, instead of speaking out, but he did."

"Was it, too, about the fire and the robbery?" asked Tom Betts.

"It amounted to the same thing, I should say," replied Jud, "because it was connected with the hoboes."

"Go on and tell us then," urged Bobolink.

"He says they're up in this part of the country," asserted the other.

"Wow! that begins to look as if we might be running across the ugly pair after all!" exclaimed Tom Betts, his face lighting up with eagerness. "Now wouldn't it be queer if we managed to capture the yeggs and turn 'em over to the authorities? Paul, how about that now?"

"Oh! you're getting too far ahead of the game, Tom," he was told. "We must know a good deal more about this business before we could decide to take such desperate chances."

"But if the opportunity came along, wouldn't it be our duty to cage the rascals?" the persistent Tom demanded.

"Perhaps it might," Paul told him. "But Jud, did he explain to you how he came to know the tramps were up here in the woods above Lake Tokala?"

"Just what he did," replied the other, promptly. "It seems that Jud, while he was out hunting, had a glimpse of one of the ugly pair the day before this storm hit us. It gave him a chance to trail the man in order to see what he was worth in that line. And, Paul, he did his work so well that he followed the fellow all the way to where the two of them had put up."

"And that was where, Jud?" demanded the leader of the troop.

"There's an old dilapidated cabin half-way between here and the lake," explained Jud. "Maybe Tolly Tip knows about it."

"Sure that I do!" responded the woodsman. "'Twas used years ago by some charcoal burners, but has been goin' to decay this long time. Mebbe now they've patched up the broken roof, and mane to stay there awhile. It's in a snug spot, and mighty well protected from the wind in winters."

"That's the place," Jud assured them. "The hoboes are hanging out there, and seem to have plenty to eat, so Jud Mabley told me. If we concluded to take a look in at 'em on our way home it could be done easy enough, I'd think."

"We'll talk it over," decided Paul. "We must remember that in all likelihood they're a desperate pair, and well armed. As a rule scouts have no business to constitute themselves criminal catchers, though in this case it's a bit different."

"Because we've been publicly accused by Mr. Briggs of being the persons who set his old store on fire, just in spite!" declared Bobolink, briskly enough. "And say! wouldn't it be a bully trick if we could take those two tramps back with us, having the goods on them? Then we'd say to Mr. Briggs: 'There you are, sir! These are the men you want! And we'd trouble you to make your apology just as public as your hasty accusation was.'"

"Hurrah!" cried Tom Betts. "That's the ticket."

But Paul was not to be hurried into giving a decision. He wanted more time to consider matters, and settle his plan of campaign. The other scouts, however, found little reason to doubt that in the end he would conclude to look favorably on the bold proposition Jud had advanced.

Just as they had anticipated, the return journey was not anywhere nearly so strenuous an undertaking as the outward tramp had been. Even where they had to cross great drifts a passage had been broken for them, and the wind, not being high, had failed to fill up the gaps thus far.

The rescue party arrived in the vicinity of the cabin long before sundown, and could catch whiffs of the wood smoke that blew their way, which gave promise of the delightful warmth they would find once inside the forest retreat.



CHAPTER XXIX

THE WILD DOG PACK

"Well! well! what under the sun's been going on here while we've been away?"

Bobolink burst out with this exclamation the very minute he passed hastily in at the cabin door. A jolly fire blazed on the hearth, and the interior of the cabin was well lighted by the flames.

Paul, as well as all the other arrivals, stared. And well they might, for Sandy Griggs and Bluff were swathed in seemingly innumerable bandages. They looked a bit sheepish too, even while grinning amiably.

"Oh! 'tisn't as bad as it seems, fellows!" sang out Spider Sexton, cheerfully. "Phil thought it best to wash every scratch with that stuff we keep for such things, so as to avoid any danger of blood poisoning. But shucks! they got off pretty easy, let me tell you."

"What happened?" demanded Jud Elderkin, curiously. "Did they run across that old bear after all, and get scratched or bitten?"

"Or was it the other bobcat that came around to smell the pelt of his mate, and gave you something of a tussle?" asked Bobolink.

"Both away off your base," said Bluff, with a fresh grin. "It was dogs, that's all."

"Dogs!" echoed Jud, unbelievingly. "You must mean wolves, don't you? They look a heap like some kinds of mongrel dogs."

"'Tis the lad as knows what he is talkin' about, I guess," remarked Tolly Tip just then. "Sure, for these many moons now there's been a pack av thim wild dogs a-runnin' through the woods. Many a night have I listened to the same bayin' and yappin' as they trailed after a deer."

A flash of understanding came into Jud's face.

"Oh! now I see what you mean," he went on to say. "Wild dogs they were, that for some reason have abandoned their homes with people, and gone back to the old free hunting ways of their ancestors. I've heard about such things. But say! how did it happen they tackled you two?"

Bluff and his guilty companion exchanged looks, and as he scratched his head the former went on to confess.

"Why, you see, it was this way," he began. "Sandy and I began to get awful tired of staying indoors after you fellows went away. Three days of it was just too much for our active natures to stand. So we made up a plan to take a little walk around, and see if we could run across any game."

At that Sandy held up a couple of partridges.

"All we got, and all we saw," he remarked, "but they were enough to set that savage bunch of wild dogs on us. Whew! but they were hungry and reckless. But you go on and tell the story, Bluff."

"When we saw them heading our way," continued the other, "we thought they were just ordinary dogs running loose. But as they came closer both of us began to see that they were a savage looking lot. In the lead was a big mastiff that looked like a lion to us."

"But you had your guns with you, didn't you?" asked Jud.

"That's right, we did," replied Bluff. "But you see before we made up our minds the kiyi crowd was dangerous they were nearly on us, yelping and snapping like everything. That big chap in the lead gave me a shiver just to look at him; and there were three others coming full-tilt close behind him."

"We've since made up our minds," again interrupted Sandy, "that they must have scented our birds, and were crazy to get them. Though even if we'd thrown the partridges away I believe the pack would have attacked us like so many tigers."

"At the very last," Bluff went on, "I knew we ought to be doing something. So I yelled out to Sandy who had the shotgun to pepper that big mastiff before he could jump us, and that I'd take care of the next creature."

"Well, I tried to do it," Sandy affirmed, "but my first shot went wild, because Bluff here knocked my elbow just when I pulled the trigger. But I had better luck with the second barrel, for I brought one of the other dogs down flat on his back, kicking his last."

"I'd shot a second creature meanwhile," said Bluff; "and then the other two were on us. Whew! but we did have a warm session of it about that time, let me tell you, fellows! It was at close quarters, so I couldn't use my gun again to shoot; but we swung the weapons around our heads as though they were clubs."

"I made a lucky crack," declared Sandy, "and bowled the smaller cur over, but he was up like a flash and at me again, scratching and biting like a mad wolf. I never would have believed family pets could go back to the wild state again like that if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

"I suppose the big beast tackled you then, did he, Bluff?" asked Jack.

"You just b-b-bet he did!" exclaimed the other, excitedly. "And s-s-say, I had all I could do to k-k-keep him from knocking me over in a h-h-heap. Lots of t-t-times I cracked him with the b-b-butt of my rifle, and staggered him, but he only c-came at me again full tilt. Oh! but we had a g-g-glorious time of it I tell you!"

"And how did it end?" queried Jud. "Since we find you two here right-side-up-with-care we must believe that in the final wind-up you got the better of your canine enemies."

"C-c-canine d-d-don't seem to fit the c-c-crime this time, Jud," expostulated Bluff. "It sounds so mild. Well, we lathered 'em right and left, and took quite a number of s-s-scratches in return. B-b-both of us were getting pretty well winded, and I was b-b-beginning to be afraid of the outcome, when all at once I remembered that I had other b-b-bullets in my gun."

"Wise old head, that of yours, Bluff," commented Jud, with a touch of satire in his voice. "Better late than never I should say. Well, what did you do then?"

"Next chance I got I managed to turn my gun around and grip the stock," and as he said this Bluff reached over to pick up his repeating rifle to exhibit the dents, as well as the half dried blood spots on the walnut shoulder piece, all of which went to prove the truth of his story as words never could have done.

"That was the end of Mr. Mastiff then, eh?" continued Jud.

"Oh, well! I hated to do it," Bluff told them, "for he was a beaut of a beast, so strong and handsome; but then those shining teeth looked pretty ugly to me, and he was wild to get them at my throat, so there wasn't really any choice."

"I should say not!" declared Phil Towns, shuddering at the picture Bluff was drawing of the spirited encounter.

"So I shot him," said Bluff, simply. "And at that the remaining beast lit out as fast as he could, because with the fall of the leader of the pack he lost his grit. Course after that Sandy'n I couldn't think of hunting any longer. We figured that we ought to get back home and have our cuts looked after. And Paul, Phil has done a dandy job with that potash stuff."

"Glad to hear it," said the scout-master, quickly, "though I'll take a look myself to make sure. Scratches from carnivorous animals are very dangerous on account of the poison that may cling to their claws. It's always best to be on the safe side, and neutralize the danger."

"And Paul," continued Bluff, "will you accept one of these fat birds from us?"

"Not much I will!" declared the other immediately. "Why should I be favored over the rest of the crowd? You and Sandy earned the right to enjoy a feast, and we'll see to it that you have it to-morrow. Let them hang until then; game is always better for lying a few days before being eaten, you know."

Of course, those who had remained at home were curious to know whether the rescue expedition had been successful or not.

"We needn't ask if you found Hank and his crowd," declared Spider Sexton, wisely, "for as scouts we are educated to observe things, and first of all we notice that none of you has come back with the pack he took away. That tells us the story. But please go on and give the particulars, Paul."

"We managed to find them just when they had their last stick on the fire," the scout-master commenced to relate. "We had to dig a way in to them, for there was an enormous drift banked up against their exit that they hadn't even begun to cut through."

"How lucky you got there on time!" cried Frank Savage. "Once more scouts have proved themselves masters of circumstances. Bully for Stanhope Troop! I bet you they were glad to see you! Yes, and like as not told you they were sorry for ever having done anything to annoy our crowd."

"You've hit it to a dot, Frank," admitted Jud. "Hank shows some signs of meaning to turn over a new leaf, and Paul even believes there's a hope; but somehow the rest of us reckon its the old story over again. Once they get on their own stamping grounds, by degrees they'll forget all we've done for them, and be back at their old tricks again. What's bred in the bone can't easily be beaten out of the flesh, my father says."

"But it does happen once in a while," admonished Paul; "so we'll drop the subject for the present. If Hank starts in to do the right thing, though, remember that it's our duty as scouts to give him all the help we can. And now let's settle on the menu for supper, because we're all of us as hungry as wolves."

While some of the boys were busying themselves around the fire, Paul took a look at the slight injuries of the two aspiring hunters, and complimented the pleased Philip on the clever way he had attended to their necessities.



CHAPTER XXX

A CHANGE OF PLANS

That night, as the lads sat before the fire, those who had gone on the expedition of succor had to tell further particulars, for the others were curious to know about everything.

When they heard how Bud Phillips had seen the two tramps running away from the vicinity of the fire before hardly any one else was around, of course Bluff and the four other scouts were fully agreed that the mystery of the blaze had been as good as explained.

"All the same," Jud remarked, "unless we can show some clinching evidence our theory won't hold water with a lot of people who always have to be given solid proof. That brings up the subject, we talked about on the way home—should we pay a visit to that charcoal burners' cabin, and try to make prisoners of the yeggs?"

"Great scheme, I'd say!" burst out Frank Savage without any hesitation.

"B-b-bully idea, let me tell you!" added Bluff.

"Whee!" exclaimed Sandy. "Nearly takes my breath away just to hear you mention such a bold thing; but I'm game to try it if the rest are."

Paul smiled. Truth to tell he had discounted all this, knowing what an impetuous lot his followers were, and how prone to push aside all thought of personal danger when tempted to perform some act that might redound to their credit.

"Plenty of time yet to talk that over," he told them. "We needn't decide too hastily, and will let the subject rest for the present, though I don't mind saying that the chances are we'll conclude to do something along those lines when on our way home."

"Is the charcoal burners' shack far away from the creek, Tolly Tip?" questioned Bobolink, anxiously.

"By the same token I do belave it lies not more'n a quarrter av a mile off from the strame. I c'n lade ye to the same with me eyes shut," announced the woodsman, evidently just as eager to take part in the rounding up of the vagrants as any of the enthusiastic scouts; for his eye was still a little discolored from the blow he had received in the fight with the desperate tramps.

As their time was limited, Paul knew that they should plan carefully if they were to accomplish all the things they were most desirous of carrying through. On that account he had each one make up his mind just what was dearest to him, and set about accomplishing that one thing without any unnecessary delay.

As for Paul himself, he most of all regretted the fact that on account of the deep snowdrifts and the bitter cold he would probably be unable to get any more flashlight pictures.

"You see," he explained to some of the others when they were asking why he felt so disappointed, "most of the smaller animals are buried out of sight by the snow. Like the squirrels, they take time by the forelock, and have laid in a supply of food, enough to last over this severe spell, so none of them will be anxious to show up in a hurry."

"But I heard Tolly Tip giving you a real tip about the sly mink along the bank of the creek. How about it, Paul?" asked Jud.

"Well, that's really my only chance," admitted the scout-master. "It seems that minks have a perfect scorn for wintry weather around here, Tolly says, and are on the job right along, no matter how it storms. He knows of one big chap who has a regular route over which he travels nearly every night, going in and out of holes in the banks as if going visiting."

"I don't believe you've ever had a good snapshot of a live mink, have you, Paul?" inquired Bluff, showing more or less interest, though still somewhat stiff with the painful scratches he had received on the previous day.

"I've always wanted to get such a flashlight," admitted Paul, "because the mink is said to be one of the shyest of all small, fur-bearing animals, even more so than Br'er Fox, and considerably more timid than Br'er 'Coon."

"You'll have to set the trap to-night then, won't you?" asked Tom Betts.

"We've made all arrangements looking to such a thing," Tom was assured. "I'm glad that it still stays clear and cold. We may only have a couple more nights in Camp Garrity."

"But it's getting a little milder, don't you think?" inquired Bobolink.

"It's a big improvement on yesterday, and I imagine to-morrow will see a further change," the scout-master remarked.

"Then if those fellows in the cave mean to strike out for home they'll like as not find their chance by to-morrow," observed Jud. "Course they've got enough grub to keep them for a week. But it isn't much fun staying cooped up in a cave, and I reckon they've had enough of it. Sim and Jud acted that way, not to mention Bud Phillips."

"Before we make our start I'd like to take a last turn over that way," Paul observed, as though he had been thinking the matter over. "I'd just like to see if they did strike out across the timber. Their trail would tell the story, and we'd know what to expect."

"I speak to go with you then," flashed back Jud, even as Bluff opened his mouth to give utterance to the same desire.

"T-t-that's what a fellow gets for being a stutterer," grumbled Bluff. "I meant to say just those words, but Jud—hang the l-l-luck—was too speedy for me. Huh!"

"Oh! as for that," laughed Paul, "both of you can go along if you care to."

As the day dragged along the scouts busied themselves in a dozen different ways according to their liking. Some preferred to swing the axe and chop wood, though doubtless if they had been compelled to do this at home, loud and bitter would have been their lamentations.

During the afternoon several went out for a walk, carrying guns along so as to be prepared for either game, or another pack of hungry wild dogs, though Tolly Tip assured them that, so far as he knew, there had existed only the one pack, with that enormous mastiff as leader.

"If ye follow the directions I've been after givin' yees, it may be ye'll come on a bevy av pa'tridges," the woodsman told them as they were setting out. "For by the same token whin we've had a heavy snowfall I've always been able to knock down a lot av the birrds among the berry bushes. 'Tis there they must go to git food or be starved entirely. Good luck to ye, boys, an' kape yer weather eye open so ye won't git lost!"

"Remember," added Paul, "if you do lose your bearings stop right still and fire three shots in rapid succession. Later on try it again, and we'll come to you. But with such clever woodsmen along as Jack and Bobolink we don't expect anything of that kind to happen, of course."

Paul himself went with the keeper of the woods lodge to follow the frozen creek up to a certain place where there were numerous holes in the bank. Here Tolly Tip pointed out little footprints made he said by the minks on the preceding night.

"Av course," the woodsman went on to say, "ye do be knowin' a hape better nor me jist where the best place to set the trap might be. All I c'n do is to show ye the p'int where the minks is most like to travel to-night."

"That is just what I want you to do!" exclaimed Paul. "But you can help me out in fixing things, so when the mink takes the bait and pulls the string he'll be sure to crouch directly in front of my camera trap."

Between them they eventually arranged matters, and then the trapper removed all traces of their presence possible, after which they returned to the cabin.

"If the trap isn't sprung to-night I'll have another try-out," Paul affirmed, "for it may be a long while before I'll get another such chance to snap off Mr. Sly Mink in his own preserves."

"Oh! make your mind aisy on that score," said Tolly Tip, reassuringly. "I do be knowing the ways av the crature so well I c'n promise ye there'll be no hitch. That bait I set is sure to fetch him ivery time. I've sildom known it to fail."

The afternoon came to an end, and the glow of sunset filled the heavens over in the west. The hunters came trooping in, much to the satisfaction of some of the stay-at-homes, who were beginning to fear something might have happened to them.

"We heard a whole lot of shots away off somewhere," asserted Phil Towns, "so show us what you've got in the game pockets of your hunting coats to make them bulge out that way."

"I've got three fat partridges," said Jack.

"Two for me—one in each pocket!" laughed Bobolink.

Then Jack and Bobolink looked expectantly toward Jud as though expecting him to make a still better showing.

At that Jud began to unload, and before he stopped he had laid six birds on the rough deal table. At that there was much rejoicing.

"Just enough to go around!" exclaimed Sandy Griggs. "I was beginning to be sorry Bluff and I had gone and cooked our birds, but now it's all right. Here's for a bully mess to-morrow."

"We've certainly made a big hole in your partridge supply since coming up here, Tolly Tip," announced Bobolink, proudly. "And there's one deer less, too."

"Only one," said Jud, regretfully; and Paul knew he must be thinking of the stag responsible for the tracks seen on that day when they were on duty bent, and could not turn aside to do any hunting.

"Well, to-morrow may be our last day here," remarked the scout-master, "so every one of you had better wind up your affairs, to be ready to start home."



CHAPTER XXXI

GOOD-BYE TO DEER HEAD LODGE

"I think I'll sleep a whole lot better to-night," announced Bobolink, as he gave a huge yawn, and stretched his arms high above his head.

"What's the reason?" demanded Jud, quickly. "Are you happy because we're going to break camp so much sooner than we expected, owing to everything being snowed under up here in the woods?"

"Bobolink doesn't get enough to eat, I reckon," suggested Tom Betts.

"If he doesn't it's his own fault then," Jack went on to say, "because he has more to do with the cooking end of the game than any of us."

"I guess I know what he means," hinted Spider Sexton, mysteriously.

"Then get a move on you, Spider, and enlighten the rest of us," coaxed Sandy, as he cuddled a bit closer to the crackling fire, for the wind had arisen again, and parts of the cabin were chilly, despite the roaring blaze.

"Why, the fact of the matter is, Bobolink has a new girl to take to barn dances and all that this winter," said Spider, boldly. "It's that pretty Rose Dexter belonging to the new family in town. Oh! you needn't grin at me that way, Bobolink. I own up I was doing my best to cut in on you there, but you seemed to have the inside track of me and I quit. But she is a peach if ever there was one!"

"Well, do you blame me then for feeling satisfied when we talk of going home?" demanded the accused scout. "All the same you're all away off in your guesses. I'm hoping to sleep soundly to-night just because my mind is free from wondering who set that incendiary fire and tapped Mr. Briggs' safe."

"Oh! so that's the reason, is it?" laughed Paul. "I've been watching you more or less since we came up here, and I wondered if you hadn't been trying to figure that mystery out. I'm glad for your sake, as well as for some others' sakes, that we've been able to clear that thing up."

"All I hope now is that on our way back home we can stop off and pay the hoboes a little friendly visit," continued Bobolink.

"Same here," Jud added, quickly. "Even if our outing hasn't been everything we hoped for, it would even things up some if we could march into Stanhope and hand the guilty men over to the police."

Indeed, Bobolink was not the only scout who slept "like a rock" on that night. Most of the boys were very tired after the exertions of the day, and, besides, now that it had been decided to return home, they really had a load removed from their minds.

Of course, all of them could have enjoyed a much longer stay at Deer Head Lodge had the conditions been normal. That tremendous fall of snow, something like two feet on the level, Paul felt, had utterly prostrated many of their best plans, and facing a protracted siege of it did not offer a great deal of attraction.

With the coming of morning they were once more astir, and were soon as busy as a hive of bees. Each scout seemed intent on getting as much done as possible while the day lasted.

Tolly Tip alone looked sober. The quaint and honest fellow had taken a great liking to his guests, and looked forward to their speedy departure with something akin to dismay.

"Sure the rist av the winter will same a dreary time with not a hearty young voice to give me gratin' av a mornin'," he told Paul. "Indade, I don't know how I'm goin' to stand for the same at all, at all."

"I'll tell you this, Tolly Tip," replied the scout leader emphatically. "If we get off during the Easter holidays some of us may take a run up here to visit you again. And perhaps you'll find occasion to come to Stanhope in some business dealings with Mr. Garrity. In that case you must let us know. I'll call a special meeting of the scouts, and you'll be our honored guest."

The old woodsman was visibly affected by these hearty words. He led a lonely life of it, although until the coming of these merry boys it had not seemed especially so. They had aroused long buried memories of his own boyhood, and given him a "new lease of life," as he declared.

Nothing remarkable happened on this last day in camp, though numerous things took place. Paul saw to it that in the afternoon the boys got everything ready to pack so there would be little delay in the morning, and they could get an early start if the weather conditions were at all favorable.

The weather remained good. The great storm must have covered a considerable stretch of territory east of the Mississippi and the Great Lakes and cleared the atmosphere wonderfully, for again the morning dawned without a threatening cloud to give cause for anxiety.

There was considerable bustle inside the cabin and out of it about that time. Packs were being done up, though in much smaller compass than when the boys arrived at the camp, since only enough food was being taken along to serve for a couple of meals.

All the rest they only too gladly bequeathed to their genial host. Many were the silent resolves on the part of the boys as to what they would send up to Deer Head Lodge if ever the chance arrived, tobacco for Tolly Tip's pipe being of course the main idea, since he seemed to lack nothing else.

On Tolly Tip's part, he forced each of the lads to pack away a particular pelt which they were to have made into some sort of small article, just to remember the glorious outing in the snowy woods by.

At last the time came to say good-bye to the camp, and it was with unanimous agreement that the scouts clustered in a bunch, swung their hats, and gave three parting cheers for the lodge in the wilderness.

Tolly Tip had laid out their course, and on the way the main body halted while he and Paul tramped over to the foot of the hill where the cave among the rocks lay.

Paul was pleased to find the cave empty and the ashes cold where the fire had burned, thus proving that Hank and his three companions had started overland for home on the previous day.

Once more joining the others, they continued on their way.

"Next in line come our friends, the hobo yeggmen!" remarked Jud, with a grim closing of his lips.

"Listen," said Paul, impressively, "for the last time I want to caution you all to follow the directions I've given. We must try to creep up on that old shack, and find out what the tramps are doing before we show our hand."

"Well, what have scouts been learning woodcraft for if they can't do a bit of spy work?" asked Jud, boldly. "All you have to do, Paul, is to pick those you want to keep you company when you make the grand creep; while the rest hang out close by, ready to jump in at the signal and make it unanimous."

It might have been noticed, were one watching closely, that Jud said this with a complacent smile hovering about his lips. The reason was easily guessed, because Jud really had no peer among the members of Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts when it came to creeping up on game or some pretended enemy.

He had often proved his superiority in this respect, and could therefore take it for granted that the scout-master would pick him out to accompany him on an occasion like this.

"All right, Jud," said Paul, smilingly, for he understood very well how the other felt, "I'll take Jack with me, Bobolink, and Tom Betts as well—yes, and you may come along too, I guess."

Some of them snickered at this, while Jud glared haughtily around and shrugged his shoulders, looking aggrieved, until Paul took occasion to whisper in his ear:

"That was meant for a joke you understand, Jud. Of course, I couldn't think of doing this thing without your help."

Later on Tolly Tip announced that they would now leave the creek and head in the direction of the abandoned charcoal burners' shack. All the scouts felt more or less of a thrill in anticipation of what was to come.

"I only hope," Jud was heard to mutter, aggressively, "that they haven't gone and skedaddled since Bud Phillips saw 'em in the place. That'd make me feel pretty sore, let me tell you!"

"Not much chance of that happening, Jud," Jack assured the grumbler, "unless by some accident their supplies got low. And Bud said they seemed to have enough on hand to last for weeks. Everything's going to turn out as we want it, make up your mind to that."

The old woodsman knew every rod of territory around that section, and could have led his charges in a bee-line to the shack except for the snowdrifts. Of course, these caused more or less meandering, but in the end they came to a place where Tolly Tip raised a warning finger.

Every boy knew by that they must be close upon the shack. Indeed, a whiff of wood smoke floated their way just then, announcing that the goal was at hand.

They moved on for a couple of minutes. Then all could glimpse the dilapidated cabin amidst the snow piles, with smoke oozing from its disabled mud and slab chimney. Paul made a gesture that they recognized, whereupon part of the company came to a halt and hid, while the others crept on with the leader.