"Have you any idea who it was?"

"Not the slightest. It was too dark to see anybody."

"Couldn't be any of the Ham Spink crowd?"

"No. I don't think they'd treat us in just that way."

"Maybe it's some crazy chap."

"That's more like it---some hermit like old Peter Peterson," returned Shep, referring to an old man who lived near the lakes and who rarely showed himself in any of the settlements.

"Peter Peterson wasn't crazy; he didn't heave things at folks."

"Let us see if we can get him to come out. I'd like to see what sort of a chap he is."

Keeping at what they thought was a safe distance, the two boy hunters called loudly half a dozen times. No answer was returned.

"Perhaps he's deaf," suggested Whopper.

"More likely he doesn't want to show himself."

"Maybe it's a she, Shep."

"Possibly. If it's a woman she must be a regular witch. Let us call again."

They did so. At first they heard nothing in return. Then came a strange sound from the cabin, and for one brief instant a dark, impish face showed itself at the broken window. Then the face disappeared and a stone came whizzing toward the lads' heads. They ducked just in time, or one or the other might have been seriously hurt.

"Let's get out---no use of staying here to be a target!" cried Whopper, who was growing nervous. "No telling what that fellow---or woman---may do next. Might come for us with a carving knife!"

And he hurried away, with the doctor's son beside him. They did not slacken their pace until the dilapidated cabin had disappeared from view.

"Did you see him---or her?" asked Shep.

"Just about and no more. What a dried-up, hateful face!"

"Just what I thought. I'll wager that that person, whoever he or she is, is as mad as a---a crazy person can be."

"I believe you, and I don't know as I want to go near that cabin again."

"We ought to tell the authorities about it, though. That person might kill somebody some day."

"Well, we can tell the police when we go back."

"Could it be some tramp, who is living on farmers' chickens and the like?"

"It might be. But I think it's somebody who's crazy. A tramp wouldn't find it any fun to live away out here. Why, it must be two miles, at least, to the nearest farm."

"More like three."

"Tramps like to stay near the farms and near railroads. No, that's some kind of a crazy hermit."

Discussing the happening from every point of view, the two lads trudged on. It was now growing dark rapidly, and they were anxious to reach Firefly Lake.

"Hope we haven't missed the way," said the doctor's son presently.

"Seems to me we ought to be getting to the river or the lake soon."

"Here's a rise of ground. I'm going up there and take a look,"

answered his chum.

From the small hill they made out the glint of water in the distance, and they also saw the glare of the camp fire Snap and Giant had started.

"Might as well steer straight for the camp fire," said Shep. "It will save us some walking."

When within a few hundred feet of the camp they set up a loud whistle, to which the others immediately responded. Then Snap and Giant came to meet them, and relieved them of some of the things.

A little later all were seated around the camp fire.

"So you got through all O.K., eh?" said the doctor's son, after Snap and Giant had told their story. "Well, so did we---but we had some queer things happen." And then he and Whopper told of the tumbles, and of what had occurred at the old cabin in the woods.

"Say, wish I had been along!" cried Snap. "I'd like to investigate that cabin and see who is there."

"You wouldn't want to investigate a block of wood or a stone thrown at your head, would you?" demanded Whopper sarcastically.

"Maybe we could go there when the hermit---or whatever he or she is---is asleep," went on Snap. He always believed in getting at the bottom of a mystery.

"If you go there you'll go without me," declared Whopper firmly.

"I wouldn't tempt that---er---crazy fellow again for a billion dollars! Why, he might come out and carve a chap all up with a butcher knife, or blow your head off with a gun!"

Supper was ready, and while they were talking the young hunters managed to stow away a hearty meal, after, which all felt better.

But the experiences of the day had worn them out, and each was glad enough to retire early.

"We want to be stirring early to-morrow," said the doctor's son.

"We want to go up the lake and then begin to tote the outfit over the hills to the mountains."

"How about it---going to set a guard?" asked Giant.

"Wonder if we can't put Wags on guard?" asked Snap.

"I think he'd bark if anything came to disturb us," came from Whopper.

"We'll tie him to the front tent pole," said the doctor's son. "Then he won't be able to run off, and more than likely he'll bark if anything goes wrong."

They fixed the camp fire and then tied the collie fast by a cord slipped under his collar. Evidently Wags was used to this treatment, for he did not seem to mind it in the least. The young hunters entered the tent, and in less than a quarter of an hour all were sound asleep.

Thus an hour pa.s.sed. Then, of a sudden, all the lads found themselves wide awake. Wags was barking furiously, and the hair of his body seemed to be fairly standing on end.

CHAPTER XI