"Check."

"And not far from the same spot, Mr. Silverton or Dobbs come upon two dead birds. Check?"

"Sure," admitted Red, "but I still don't see-"

"We know someone has been using the old logging road. Well, maybe that log jam was put in the creek for a purpose."

"To make a bridge across," supplied Dan. "Whoever did it, wanted the dam to look natural."

"You think someone planned to flood the pheasant runs?" Chips asked.

"No," Brad explained patiently, "that part probably was an accident. The bridge was just a convenient means of getting into this section of the woodland."

"Then you believe someone has been stealing pheasants from Mr.

Silverton?" Red said slowly.

"Ah, the bright boy is catching on!" declared Brad.

"Your theory may sound good to you, but I'd say it's full of holes like a sieve," Red retorted.

"For instance?"

"Well, Saul Dobbs must have known about that log jam. And living on the place, how could he help but know if a strange car used the old road?"

"That's what I'm wondering myself."

Hardly knowing what to do, Brad stood staring thoughtfully up the dark, mysterious looking path. It had not been used many times, he knew, for the gra.s.s was worn thin in only a few places. Elsewhere, it merely was heavily trampled.

Though tempted to see where the trail led, he hesitated to take time to explore it. Soon it would be quite dark, and none of the Cubs had brought a flashlight.

Furthermore, with night coming on, the air was becoming chilly. In their damp clothing, the boys already were thoroughly uncomfortable.

"What do you say, Brad?" Dan asked eagerly. "Shall we find out where this path leads?"

The question stirred the Den Chief to decision.

"We might follow it a little ways," he said. "But someone ought to stay here, just in case Mack or Fred should come looking for us."

"I don't want to stay-not alone," announced Chips, as the Den Chief's gaze singled him out.

"Then you and Red wait here together," Brad directed. "Dan and I won't be gone long."

"If you hear us whistle twice, come a-running," Chips advised as the pair started off together. "Mr. Hatfield may get back any minute and want us all in a hurry."

With Dan leading the way, the two boys walked swiftly along the path. The ground sloped upward away from the general direction of the creek. All along the tunnel of bushes, Brad noticed broken branches, indicating to his observing eye that an object wider than the path itself had been carried along the trail.

"I hardly can see ahead," Dan complained. "It's sure getting dark fast."

"Since we've come this far, let's keep on a little longer," Brad urged.

"I think I see a clearing ahead."

A few yards more and the pair came to a small lean-to constructed of second-hand lumber marred by numerous knot holes. The building, low to the ground, had been set back almost out of sight amid the bushes.

"What's this?" Dan asked, for they had come to the end of the path.

"Looks a little like a tool shed, only I don't think it could be," Brad said, equally puzzled. "Let's have a look inside."

The ill-fitting door had a bolt and padlock. However, the latter hung loosely and had not been snapped shut.

Brad opened the door and peered into the dark interior.

"Nothing here," he reported, and then corrected himself. "Yes, there is too! Looks like a crate of something."

Diving into the lean-to, he pulled the crate out where they both could see it.

"Pheasants!" exclaimed Dan. "Two of them!"

"Beauties if you ask me, Dan. What kind are they?"

"This one looks like a Germain peac.o.c.k type," Dan said, identifying it from a picture he had seen in a library book. "Gray plumage eyed with metallic spots. His tail probably would spread out if he weren't cooped up."

"And the other one?"

"It might be an Impevan pheasant," Dan said doubtfully. "That green crested head and red neck feathers would make me think so."

"For all of me, it could be a grouse," Brad chuckled. "Wonder why these birds are cooped up here without any food or water, and not too much air?"

"Brad, you don't suppose-"

Dan did not finish what he had intended to say, for at that moment running footsteps pounded on the path.

"Someone's coming-but fast!" Brad muttered, shoving the crate back into the lean-to. "Hide!"

He drew Dan back deep into the bushes behind the building.

Scarcely had the two taken cover, than a bedraggled figure bounded into view. In relief, the pair saw that it was Red who had followed them.

"Brad! Dan!" he hissed in a stage whisper.

Mystified by his secrecy, the pair stepped from their hiding place.

"Quick! Duck back out of sight!" Red muttered in warning. "They're coming this way!"

"Who's coming?" Brad demanded.

"A couple of men. I don't know who they are."

"Where did you see them?" Dan asked, for as yet he heard no sound on the trail.