Part 35 (1/2)

”Anything more up there?” called Dave.

”Nothing but one Grammar School boy,” d.i.c.k announced, showing himself at the edge of the simple loft. ”I'm coming down. Each of you climb up here, in turn, and see what a bully hiding place our old college chum had.”

One after another the boys inspected the place. It was small, but every inch had been made to count by the late occupant.

”Fitsey pulled the rope up after him, and stayed here sleeping mostly in the daytime,” Tom called down, when aloft. ”Say, fellows, after this, when we're on the trail of a mystery, we want to look on the other side of anything as big as a lumber pile.”

Blankets, fur robes and food were transferred to the log cabin.

”But just how much better are we than thieves?” Greg suddenly asked.

”We've just been taking things that didn't belong to us.”

For a moment or two that was a poser, for every member of d.i.c.k & Co.

tried, always, to be as open and honest as the day itself.

”Oh, well,” grunted d.i.c.k at last, ”we haven't been robbing Mr. Fits, for a man of his habits never has anything of his own. All that he has he steals from some one else.”

”Then ought we not to try to find owners for the food we've brought in from the shack?” queried Dave.

”Yes; if we can,” agreed d.i.c.k. ”But I doubt if the former rightful owners of this food stuff would know their own goods. It's just such stuff as one might find in anyone of a thousand grocery stores. We couldn't identify any of these cans, ourselves, if we found it in any one else's house. You see, these labels are all of common brands of tinned foods. On the whole, fellows, I believe we have a clear right to eat this food if we happen to need it while we're in the woods. It isn't like stuff that a former owner could remember and identify.”

The more they talked it over, the clearer this view became to the Grammar School boys.

”We've time for a couple of hours of hunting, now, if any of you care to go,” d.i.c.k suggested. ”We'll have daylight that long. But it won't do, with any chance of Mr. Fits being about, for all of us to go at once. We must leave at least two of the fellows, and they must close the shutters and keep the bar on the door. The two fellows who stay behind can also begin to get things ready against the supper hour. I'll be one of the two to stay. Who'll be the other.”

”No, you won't, d.i.c.k Prescott,” retorted Greg. ”You've been taking first tricks at all the hard work. You've worked like a horse in this camp.

To-day you'll take the first trick at having some of the fun. I'll be one of the two to stay in camp.”

Dan also volunteered. Thereupon the other four, Harry carrying the air rifle, started off into the woods, jogging along over the solid crust.

Though the air was keenly cold, to the boys it was all delightful. They were warmly clad, even their feet being protected by heavy overshoes.

With caps drawn down over their ears, and warm mittens on their hands, why should they mind if the mercury stood somewhat below zero?

Three of them were out on a trip of exploration. Hazelton, however, was the young Nimrod. He wanted to bag a rabbit! Yet, seeing no game, Harry finally persuaded Tom Reade to carry the rifle.

Then at last, all unexpectedly, Hazelton caught sight of a rabbit. The little animal had hopped briskly over the snow, coming within sight of the Grammar School boys. Ears pointing straight up, the rabbit sat on its haunches, curiously gazing at these humans.

”Tom! Psst! ps-st! Halt!” called Harry hoa.r.s.ely over the snow.

”Hey?” answered Reade, and all four came to a halt.

”There's a rabbit,” called Harry softly, pointing.

”Bless me, so there is,” agreed Tom.

”Well, why don't you shoot it? What are you carrying that air rifle for?”