The Boy Scouts of the Flying Squadron

"I want to own up that I'm pretty nearly all in and done for!"

"Same here, Bud. The going was tough over that frozen side of old

Stormberg mountain. Then we are carrying such loads into the bargain."

"For one, I'm glad we are nearly there, Hugh."

"Yes, another steady pull and we ought to strike the shanty. We aimed to get to it by nightfall, you remember, Bud."

"Yes, and after eating such a big Thanksgiving dinner, we've been pretty spry to accomplish all we have. Why, I haven't had a pull anything like this since we broke camp last summer up at Pioneer Lake!"

"And we never could have done it only for the lift we got from Farmer Badgely, going home from market. That put us some miles on the way. If you've rested enough, Bud, perhaps we would better be on the move again. The sun is getting close to the diving line, you notice."

"Here goes, then!"

With these words Bud Morgan, first-class scout and one of the leading boys in the Wolf Patrol, inserted his arms in the loops of the pack he was handling, and managed to heave it on to his sturdy back.

His companion did likewise, for each of them was "toting" much more than the customary amount of luggage that a scout on the hike would carry with him.

This comrade was an agile chap, about the same weight as Bud, but with a wide-awake expression on his face that let everybody know in the start that he was one of those born leaders who forge to the front through circumstances often beyond their control.

Hugh Hardin was not only leader of the Wolf Patrol. Sometimes he had been deputized to act in place of the regular scout master of the troop, when Lieutenant Denmead and Assistant Rawson chanced to be called away and could not serve. So well had Hugh carried out his task on such occasions, it was generally accepted as a foregone conclusion that in case the latter officer resigned, as he had lately given hints of doing, Hugh would be elected in his stead. There might be a few boys in the troop, now consisting of four patrols, who would prefer to see Alec Sands, leader of the Otters, placed in that elevated position, but his popularity was confined to his particular chums, while that of Hugh embraced members of every patrol.

On this day, Hugh and Bud had started from home immediately after partaking of a glorious Thanksgiving feast. As all preparations had been made for this trip up into the wilderness many miles above the home town, it was evident that they had a particular object in view; which, in fact, was the case.

Bud Morgan was rather given to conjuring up new and sometimes startling inventions. These he usually tried upon some of his mates and not always in a fashion to add to their peace of mind, either. On more than one occasion in the past they had been suddenly confronted by some innovation that for the moment rather demoralized the valiant wearers of the scout khaki.

Bud had not been very successful in his wonderful inventions. They were apt to disappoint him in the severe testing out. Theory might be all very well, but when it came to practice there was generally a screw loose in his figuring that could not be tightened; and, in consequence, trouble often perched on Bud's shoulders.

During the late summer and early autumn he had been working on some idea that seemed to have taken hold of his mind to a greater extent than any previous effort had ever done. His chums knew of it, but no one had been able to coax Bud to let them share his confidence.

When the time came that Bud could not contain his secret any longer, he had gone to the leader of his patrol and confessed. At the same time he managed to interest Hugh to such an extent that the other promised to go off with him during the few days of grace granted by the school authorities around "turkey-eating time" in late November, so as to give his new invention at least a fair trial.

And this was why they had started so soon after the annual big dinner, which fact in itself spoke volumes for the grit and determination of the two lads. Few boys would have been in condition to walk three miles during the balance of the day.

They knew one fellow at least, Billy Worth, also a Wolf scout, who was so fond of eating that doubtless at this very moment he was stretched out at full length on the sofa in his den at home, trying to figure how ever he could partake of supper after disposing of such a stupendous amount of turkey and fixings.

In the previous stories of this series, the reader who may have been fortunate enough to peruse them has come to know both Hugh and Bud pretty well. They have been followed through many adventures calculated to prove their worth as scouts, and, taken on the whole, it will be admitted that in most cases the boys carried off the honors. In the Wolf patrol, as well as among the Otters, Hawks, and Foxes, there were other lads who were also animated by the same sort of progressive spirit, and who never allowed an opportunity to improve their minds or to broaden their knowledge of Nature escape them.

After taking up their heavy burdens again, Hugh and his comrade walked on for some time through the woods. The leaves were well off the trees, though the oaks still held their brown mantle, being the very last to shed their summer coat. It had frozen quite hard for several nights previous, and some of the town boys had cherished vague hopes that there might be ice for the Thanksgiving holidays, a custom that used to prevail years before, according to the accounts given by their parents. As yet, however, only a covering an inch or so thick had settled on the ponds, and of course the running river showed no signs of congealing, so that skating would have to be postponed to a later date.

Around the two scouts there lay a complete wilderness of trees. Had they searched high and low it is doubtful whether they could have found a more lonely spot within twenty miles of home.

Stormberg Mountain, on which many of their previous adventures had taken place, reared its peak on the right; and Rainbow Lake was within two miles of their present location. In selecting this place for their little outing, Bud had probably figured that the chances of their being disturbed or spied upon by any of the curious town boys would be very slight. And, like all modest inventors, Bud was very shy about showing off until he could be certain that he had actually something worth talking about to display.

The sun had seemed to hesitate upon the horizon, but now it took a sudden dip below the earth's rim, and Bud exclaimed:

"Say, did you see the sun just slide out of sight then, as though he was ashamed to leave us in the dark? This place has all grown up since I was here last, so I hope we'll get to the shack before night really sets in."

"We will all right, Bud, so don't worry any," laughed Hugh, whose aim it seemed to be to take things as philosophically as possible, especially when they could not be changed. "Right now I'm beginning to recognize some familiar things around us. There is that chestnut that has thrown out three young suckers. When it gets big, it will make a land-mark worth talking about. I noticed it the last time I was through these woods."

"Yes, like as not," grumbled Bud, who was very tired, "if the old chestnut bug that's killing all the trees in the next county doesn't get up here next year and put the kibosh on our fine nut trees for keeps. Oh! look at that rabbit spin out of that brush pile! He's on the jump, let me tell you! Hugh, I'm beginning to recognize some things around here, too, that I remember must have been close to the shack. There's the meadow clearing that I had in my mind when choosing to come away up here to try out my latest wonder. Yes, and as sure as anything, I can hear the singing of that little waterfall just below the big spring."

"It seems to tell me that I'm thirsty enough to stop and get a drink before going on. The shack lies just back of that screen of trees and bushes, anyway," Hugh remarked, as he turned slightly aside and headed directly toward the quarter from whence that melodious song arose.

Apparently Bud was of the same mind, for he instantly followed suit. In another minute both scouts had deposited their packs on the hard ground and were kneeling at the rim of the little basin where the clear water, bubbling up from the sand, ran away in a busy stream that as yet had not felt the chilling hand of Jack Frost.

Each boy produced a collapsible metal cup with which he could dip into the sparkling spring. This is a much better way than bending down and sucking in great quantities of water, without knowing what impurities may be swallowed. Some scouts on their tramps even carry a small filtering stone such as is used in the army, and this is considered a wise precaution by thoughtful scout masters.

"Well, that tastes pretty fine," remarked Bud, after he had drunk his fill and carefully replaced his cup in its receptacle; "and now to get under cover. I reckon the very first thing we ought to attend to is getting a supply of wood indoors, so as to make the old shanty feel comfortable. I never think of a camp without seeing a camp fire as the best thing in it. It is that that binds scouts together more than any other part of the outdoor game, I think. Does it strike you that way, too, Hugh?"

"Yes, I came to that conclusion," replied the leader of the Wolf patrol, "after watching how anxious the boys always were to get plenty of fuel ready long before night came. Then you know a fire stands for grub time, too, and that always appeals to scouts who have done lots of things during the day to tire themselves out."

"That's so, I've had heaps of fun just watching Billy Worth's eyes dance while he hauled firewood into camp. With every armful he seemed to be saying, 'There, that's going to help cook our supper to-night! And we're going to have fried onions, and potatoes and ham omelette!' I had half a notion to ask Billy to come along with us on this trip, but somehow I hated to think of the fun he'd poke at me in case my wonderful invention turned out to be a fizzle, like so many of them have in the past. I knew you wouldn't give me away, Hugh, if that happened,--and if I lived to tell the tale! Well, I hope I can get my pack on my back again for the last hundred feet; but it comes harder every time. Thanks awfully for the poke, Hugh; it did the business. Now I'm in harness and ready to go on."

The two weary scouts staggered more or less as they started to push through the last barrier of trees and brush. They knew that they would speedily discover the long deserted shack there among the second growth thicket of young trees. Indeed, it was hardly half a minute later when Bud came to a sudden halt, at the same time saying in a hoarse whisper:

"Hugh, look there, will you? There's a light in the shanty! What do you think of the meanness of that? After we've come all the way up here just to keep to ourselves, then to find somebody camping on the ground! Shucks! It makes me feel as if it was a bad omen, and right in the start, too!"

The two boys stood there looking for a full minute. Hugh had discovered the presence of a light in the cabin about the same time that Bud mentioned the fact. It could be seen shining through the aperture that had once been used as a window. There was no glass in this now, and a heavy shutter, hung on rusty hinges, gave the only means of keeping out the cold air, though this had not been closed by the unknown party within.

"Whoever can it be?" muttered the disgusted Bud, doubtless begrudging that long tramp from the road where the friendly farmer had dropped them.

"Perhaps some one who's thinking of using the old shanty as headquarters while trapping this season," Hugh replied. "You know Ralph Kenyon used to take quite a lot of pelts around this region before he joined the scouts and changed his mind about that sort of thing."

"Then you don't think it could be a hobo?" queried Bud with a relieved vein in his voice.

"Well, tramps nearly always stick close to the railroads, you know," the other observed with the air of one who had made it a point to take note of such happenings; "and besides, what hobo would think of wandering away up here so far from a base of supplies? But we can settle all that easy enough, Bud."

"By going on and breaking in on him, you mean?" questioned the other eagerly.

"Yes, though perhaps first of all we'd do well to creep up and take a look in at that opening. A scout should be sure of his ground before he takes a leap. It isn't always so easy to go back again."

"All right, Hugh, let's start right in and have a squint at him.

Seems to me I get a whiff of cooking, don't you?"

"Yes, I noticed that, Bud; and also that he's got a fire burning in there. You can see it flicker, and that wouldn't happen if the light came from a lantern, or even from a torch."

"Smells good, too. That fellow knows how to cook, whoever he is," remarked the other scout, sniffing eagerly at the air as he spoke. Hours had passed since dinner-time and they had had a hard tramp.

They advanced quickly though cautiously. Their hearts were beating faster than usual, perhaps because they had been carrying heavy loads. Then again there was a chance that the moment's excitement had considerable to do with the quickening of their pulses.

Arriving alongside the wall of the lonely cabin that had been built many years before by a man who meant to start a farm up in this region, the boys hastened to glue their eyes to the opening.

What they saw astonished them and at the same time relieved their feelings. There was but a single occupant of the cabin, and he a boy about their own age, also dressed in the khaki uniform of a scout. He was busily engaged in cooking some supper, and apparently did not suspect the presence of any one near by.

"Why, it's Ralph Kenyon!" gasped Bud. "Whatever can he be doing all by himself up here?"

Hugh could give a guess. He knew that in times past the young chap in question had made it a practice to trap the little wild animals that might still be found in the woods and swamps of that region, for the sake of the money he could get for their fine furry pelts. This was before he joined the scouts, which was soon after valuable ore had been discovered on the Kenyon farm and a strip of land sold to the railroad, these transactions placing the family on a secure financial foundation.

Evidently as the cold weather came on, Ralph had been tempted to wander over to his old stamping-grounds, not to set traps as of yore or shoot any of the timid woods' animals for the sake of their warm coats, but just to revive old recollections.

He had evidently fetched his double-barrel shotgun along with him, since it stood in a corner; and he was evidently cooking a brace of fat quail which he must have managed to knock down on his trip up here.

From the way he cocked his head just then it seemed as though Ralph must have thought he had heard some strange sound. Perhaps Bud had spoken louder than he had meant to do. But then there was no need of further holding back. Ralph was a member of the same troop as themselves, and while perhaps Bud would have preferred not increasing the number of witnesses to his own triumph or rank failure, he saw that it could not be helped. And Bud was one of those who can make the best of a bad bargain. Besides, Ralph was a good fellow, and generally well liked by his companions.

Instead of calling out and telling the boy inside the shack that a couple of weary wayfarers had arrived and meant to join him, Hugh saw fit to give the recognized signal of the Wolves: "How-oo-oo!" twice repeated.

Then as Ralph sprang to the door to take away the prop with which he had secured it, Hugh and Bud pushed into the interior of the cabin.

Ralph stared at them but seemed decidedly pleased, for he instantly thrust out his hand in friendly greeting.

"Well, well, who'd think you would drop in on me as if you came from the skies?" he was saying as he worked Hugh's arm like a milkman's pump handle. "You see, I've been coming out here for several years every Thanksgiving afternoon to set my first traps of the season; and while I don't expect ever to do it again, I just couldn't keep from spending one night in the woods to revive old recollections. But I'm tickled to death at the idea of having company, for it does get mighty lonesome sometimes. Whatever are you doing up here, Hugh and Bud?"

So, as Hugh waited for his companion to explain, Bud began to tell how he had been up to his old tricks again and believed that he had invented something that was going to be a stunning success; also, that he had coaxed accommodating Hugh to go off with him in order to try it out in secret.

"Of course, since we find you in possession of the shanty where we meant to put up for one or two nights," Bud continued, with a grin, "why, I'll have to let you share my secret tomorrow when we start to try it out. Till then don't ask questions and I'll tell you no lies. And I want to inform you right now that what you're cooking for supper sets my nerves on edge, it smells so good."

"That's lucky," remarked Ralph, "for I have just four more fat juicy quail on hand. I made a double shot into a covey that got up in the brush. If you fellows say the word, I'll start right away to get them ready for the pan."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," chuckled Hugh, who, like Bud, had deposited his burden in a corner, "we're only too glad of a chance to help pluck a few feathers ourselves. It's enough that you make us a present of what you meant probably to take home to your mother."

"Oh! I can get others later on," observed Ralph, as he pointed to the little heap of brown and black feathers which marked the spot where the unused birds lay. "You see, she's not feeling very well, my mother, I mean, and somehow quail on toast always appeals to her. But while you're working there, let me make more coffee. Have you got cups and such things along in your packs, boys?"

"We have," declared the overjoyed Bud; "and this bird is just prime; never saw a fatter one, I declare. Say, Hugh, we didn't expect such a bully treat as this, did we, when we aimed to get here in time to cook supper?"

Preparations progressed rapidly. As Ralph had already stowed away quite a large quantity of wood for use during the night, that labor was spared the two late arrivals, which fact pleased Bud very much. He could work as hard as the next one when interested in what he was doing, but gathering fuel had never appealed to him in the same way it did to Billy Worth, who was all the time figuring out what splendid things the wood could be used to cook.

As the three boys sat around eating the evening meal, they chatted in a lively manner. Hugh told how he and Bud had had a fine lift by means of the farmer's wagon, and then continued:

"I suppose you started this morning, and on that account missed your Thanksgiving turkey, Ralph? But you said your mother was not feeling well; and so perhaps the feast has been postponed at your house to a more convenient time?"

"Just what it has," replied the other. "You see my married sisters are expected home on Saturday night, and so mother decided to let the big dinner go until Sunday, when we'll all be together again. I just took a snack to munch on at noon, and brought some things to cook. I got here two hours back, and had plenty of time to fix things as I wanted them for my one night out."

"Perhaps you'll make it two, if we decide to stay that long, eh, Ralph?" asked Bud, who was feeling much more warmly toward the other since partaking of the delicious quail. "You see, we've got plenty of rations along for three, and you'd be as welcome to share with us as a shower in June."

"I'll see about that to-morrow afternoon, Bud," replied the other. "But before I forget it, I want to tell you boys about a couple of queer men I happened to see while coming through the woods not more than a mile or so away from here."

"P'raps timber prospectors" suggested Hugh; "I've known of such men to come up in this region trying to spy out new fields for operating their destructive saw-mills. Somehow I hate to see the forest wiped out that way. A tree takes some hundreds of years to mature, and then it goes down in a heap, to be sawed up into boards. It seems like a shame to me every time I think of how the timber is disappearing. I believe in the work of the Forest Reserve Board. It's high time this country began to think of keeping what it's got before everything is lost. But tell us about these men that you saw. They were not tramps, Ralph?"

"Oh, no, they were dressed too well for that," replied the other quickly. "I happened to sight them in time to duck behind a tree, and they never once suspected that anybody was near. One was a tall, thin man, a German, I thought, while the other was dark and short,--fact is, I took him for a Chinese, a Japanese or a Korean from the color of his skin and his black bristling hair."

"That sounds interesting, anyway!" commented Bud. Then he added with a little amused laugh, "P'raps they've heard in some mysterious way, Hugh, how a celebrated young inventor named Bud Morgan means to try out his latest wonderful stunt, and they hope to steal the concrete result of his budding genius. But go on, Ralph. What did they do that looked suspicious?"

"Oh! their every action struck me as queer," Ralph continued. "You see they talked in a low voice, put their heads close together, looked all around as if they were afraid some one might be watching them, and then moved off, always turning to the right and to the left. You know when valuable iron ore was discovered on our farm, for a long time afterward strange men came prowling around there. It struck me these fellows might be looking for something like that."

"Perhaps they're really civil engineers, meaning to run a line across here in order to straighten the railroad and save time on through trains," Hugh suggested, leaning back after finishing his meal.

"That might account for it," Ralph admitted, "though they acted mighty strange to me. I never let out a peep till they'd disappeared from sight; and even then I thought it best to change my line of advance for fear that I might stumble on the precious pair again. Really now, I'd give a cooky to know just who and what they are, and why they've come away up here where only charcoal burners can be met as a rule."

Bud had opened his mouth to make some remark, sighing to think how he was utterly unable to eat another bite, when there was a sudden vivid flash as of lightning without that startled all the scouts; and immediately following came a tremendous roar similar to a clap of nearby thunder!

"Wow! that was a stunner all right!" exclaimed Bud. "Why, honest,

I could feel the ground shake under me when that thunder clap came!

And as I happened to be looking over there where the opening lies,

the flash nearly blinded me."

"Lightning and thunder in November is something you don't often meet," was the comment of Ralph, turning a perplexed face toward Hugh, as though depending on the leader of the Wolf patrol to solve the puzzle.

Without saying a word, Hugh jumped to his feet and went outside to take a look around. He came back almost immediately, and his face told them that his investigation instead of clearing up the mystery had only added to it.

"What did you find out, Hugh?" questioned Bud.

"Not a single cloud to be seen in all the sky!" said the other impressively.

"Whew! that seems queer, doesn't it?" faltered Bud.

"And it must be almost down to freezing, into the bargain," added the patrol leader. "I've seen lightning before, in February even, but always during a thaw. Fact is, boys, I can't believe that it was either lightning or thunder we saw and heard."

"But, Hugh, what could it have been then?" demanded Ralph.

"If we were nearer the granite quarries, I'd say they had set off an extra big blast. You know we sometimes hear a faraway boom over home. Sound travels many miles when there's a sub-strata of rock like a ledge to act as a conductor."

"Yes, but then I understood work had stopped there for the season the Saturday before Thanksgiving," volunteered Bud. "Still, they may be doing some blasting, just to keep things moving as long as the snow holds off. If that was a blast of dynamite, it must have been a stunner to make the earth quiver so much."

Hugh made no reply. Plainly he was deeply impressed with the mysterious nature of the unannounced explosion. And when once Hugh started to find out what things meant, he seldom let the matter drop until he had accomplished his purpose.

Bud also went to the door and looked out, his curiosity having been duly aroused. Hence he did not hear Ralph make a significant admission.

"Now that I come to think of it," the other remarked, "for the last two nights I can remember hearing a distant, dull sound that I thought was a heavy blast off in this quarter. I chanced to be outdoors each night about ten o'clock. It's come much earlier this time, it seems; but, anyhow, that is getting to be a regular nightly performance I wonder if they are working over in the granite quarries? I'm something of a sticker when anything bothers me like this, and for three cents I'd take a turn over that way to-morrow just to satisfy my mind."

"I was wondering whether those two men you saw could have had anything to do with that queer crash and flash?" suggested Hugh slowly.

"Ginger! I wonder now!" exclaimed Ralph, who apparently had not thought to connect the pair of strangers with the mysterious goings-on. "But they didn't seem to have anything along with them at that time. I remember seeing the taller man take something out of his pocket and examine it, Hugh; and at the time it struck me the shiny object looked mighty like one of these modern automatic pistols."

Hugh shook his head as though, try as he would, as yet he could see no way of solving the puzzle. Just then Bud came back, having fixed the door the same way he had found it, with the loose board used as a prop to keep it in position.

"Just as you said, Hugh," he announced, "it's clear as a bell, with a young moon hanging low in the western sky and the stars shining like all get-out. No siree, thunder never yet was heard on a night like this. So I guess it must have been a blast. They do say dynamite shakes the ground a heap more than powder, because its force is always directed downward. If you put a cartridge on top of a big rock and fire it, the boulder is shattered to pieces. Powder you've got to put underneath every time."

"Correct, Bud, you go up to the head of the class," laughed Hugh.

"I wanted to ask Ralph if when he used to camp around here last winter he ever knew the air to be clear enough to hear the noise of the mill over at town?"

"Why, it's a good many miles away," returned Ralph, "and I don't know that I ever did hear what you say. But what makes you ask that, Bud?"

"Oh! the atmosphere must be doing its prettiest then, to-night," came the answer. "While I was standing just outside the door I could hear the plain rattle of the machinery, though it died away quick enough. I understand that business is so good that they're running a night shift at the mills. And sounds can be heard a long way off after sunset, can't they, Hugh?"

"That's all as true as anything, Bud, though if you'd asked me my opinion before you spoke, I would have said it was foolish to think we could hear the mills so far away as this, no matter how clear the frosty air might be."

"Well, that may be," remarked the other boy doggedly; "but I did hear machinery pounding away at a right merry pace, give you my word on that. I even stepped out further and looked around, but there wasn't a thing in sight, only the stars shining up there and the little horned moon dropping down close to the horizon."

"We came up here thinking we'd be all alone and could do what we'd planned without being interrupted," observed Hugh, "but seems as though we've dropped on the queerest sort of a mystery the very first thing. And as scouts always stand to investigate what they don't understand, I reckon we'll have our hands full prying into this thing."

"But don't let it make my affairs take second place, Hugh," pleaded Bud. "What if some fellow does happen to be using up explosives by the cartload, that oughtn't to interfere with the trying out of the little invention which the brain of a Morgan has conjured up, and which, if successful, will be a blessing to science, as well as to aviators in particular."

Ralph pricked up his ears at hearing these last few words. No doubt they set him to wondering what Bud had invented now; but the latter did not take the time or trouble to let him into the secret, so Ralph just had to possess his soul in patience.

"You needn't think that I'll let anything drag me away from the first object of our trip up here, Bud," soothed the patrol leader, who knew how deeply in earnest his chum was. "But it may be that we'll find the time to look into this other business, too. If more shocks come that are as bad as that one was, we're not apt to get much sleep to-night, boys."

"Then here's hoping they'll stay away," wished Bud. "Why, a few more shocks like that would start all my joints loose, I do believe! Could that have been a meteor bursting, do you think, Hugh?"

"Well, that's a new idea," admitted the other, "and one that didn't come to me, I'll own up. A meteor can fall at any old time, day or night, though we only see them shooting after dark sets in. When one of these fragments of fused metal and slag does rush toward the earth and bury itself in the ground, it makes just such a brilliant flash. Some say there is a fearful crash when it strikes. Stranger things have happened, I take it, Bud, than to believe that was a falling meteor of a pretty good size."

"But don't shooting stars generally fall in the summer time, Hugh?" questioned Bud.

It had become a habit with most of the scouts to ask the Wolf leader any and all sorts of questions, as though he might be looked upon as a walking encyclopedia or dictionary; and it kept Hugh pretty busy accumulating information in order to be well posted for these constant demands on his time and patience.

"Yes, I believe the earth does pass through the greatest showers of meteors in August, but then there are lots of them loose at any time. I've read of some remarkable ones being dug out of the earth in various places. If this should prove to be a big meteor and we could find where it struck, it would be a feather in the caps of the scouts. Some old professor would be hustling up this way as soon as we let them know at Yale or Harvard."

"Then we'll try to find where it struck!" declared Ralph.

"It would be as bad as hunting for a needle in a haystack in all this big wilderness," ventured Bud; "though there'd be no harm in our trying,--that is, if I'm in any shape to go with you after I've had my little innings."

Again did Ralph wear a puzzled frown as he heard Bud make this significant remark. He must have wondered more than ever what it could possibly be that the other had conceived this time. On other occasions his efforts, while ambitious, had ended in smoke, and the rest of the boys often quizzed poor Bud most unmercifully on account of his shortcomings. But then, all great inventors must make a beginning. It is not expected that genius can take the saddle at one bound. Persistence counts more in such cases than anything else.

The fellow who has faith in himself is apt to get there in the end, no matter what grievous disappointments waylay him on his course; that is, if he really amounts to more than a flash in the pan. Bud sometimes comforted himself with reflections along this order. He was not easily cast down, and that counted for a good deal.

The three scouts sat in the shack crosslegged, like so many Turks, and chatted busily as time passed on. Ralph was easily induced to speak of his various experiences when he used to trap in this same neighborhood during past winters. He had run across a number of strange things that were well worth telling; and Hugh especially showed the keenest kind of interest in all he had to say.

Bud, like most promising candidates among those destined to become truly great, had a habit of forgetting that there were others present besides himself. He would fall into a reflective mood and knit his brow as though wrestling with grave problems, upon the solving of which the fate of nations depended.

Ralph knew all about the habits of foxes, mink, otter, weasels, muskrats, raccoons, 'possums and divers other small fur-bearing animals such as give up their warm coats for the purpose of keeping ladies' hands and necks comfortable during wintry blasts. He had had many amusing experiences with some of them, and as the scout patrol leader never wearied of learning interesting facts at first hand, Ralph was kept busy talking and answering questions, until considerable time had slipped by and there was Bud yawning as though threatening to dislocate his jaws.

"Guess we'd better be thinking of bunking down for the night," suggested Hugh. "Did you fetch a blanket along with you, Ralph?"

"Well, I'm too old a hand to be caught napping in the woods without thinking of the night that is coming," replied the other, laughing at the same time. "Over in the corner you'll see the bully red blanket that's hugged me tight on many a cold night when I was tending my line of traps. I feel that it is like an old friend when I get it tucked around me, and you'd think I was an Esquimo lying there, or one of those mummies they get out of Mexican catacombs."

"That's all right," Hugh declared; "I thought you were too sensible to come up here and spend a night at this time of year without something to keep you from freezing. Why, even on a summer night that starts in hot, it's apt to feel chilly along about three in the morning. I've seen the time when I'd have given a heap to have my blanket along; and the only thing I could do was to get up and start the fire booming again."

The three boys started to pick out the best spots for making their beds, each one being governed by some idea of his own. It was lucky they did not all think alike, or they must have drawn straws for first choice.

Hugh was carefully laying his blanket down so that he could crawl into it as if it were a bag, after he had taken his shoes and some of his outer clothing off, when he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve.

"Hugh!" said a soft voice in a whisper.

"What is it, Ralph?" questioned the other, going right along with what he was doing in order not to show that there was anything amiss.

"Don't act as if I was saying anything out of the common, Hugh," said the other; "but first chance you get, peep out of the tail of your eye at the broken window, and you'll find that we're being watched!"