Garry and d.i.c.k dropped off to sleep, and were only awakened some time later by hearing Phil climb into his bunk. In a moment they were wide awake.

"What news," whispered Garry.

"Go on to sleep," advised Phil in a disappointed tone. "The LeBlanc never showed up, and I've lost three hours' sleep for nothing.

Goodnight!"

CHAPTER VII

A NOCTURNAL VISITOR

It was in that dark hour that precedes the dawn, which for some reason or other is always the blackest of the night. The three boys were sleeping soundly. Suddenly Phil awoke and sniffed the air. For a moment or two he was dazed, then he gave a shout.

His cry of alarm woke the others, and they were about to leap from their beds when Phil's warning shout prevented them.

"What's the trouble, Phil?" asked Garry. "Are there snakes in the shack or are you just having a nightmare? Whew!" Garry had no need to ask any further questions.

The nocturnal visitor was nothing more nor less than a polecat, that little animal of the woods about the size of a cat, but commonly called a skunk.

Phil retained his presence of mind, and reached to the bottom of his bunk and hauled out one of his heavy shoepacks. With a well directed aim he heaved it at the unwelcome little intruder, which at that moment was near the door. The force of the blow carried the animal out into the night, and then the boys hopped out of their bunks and seized their clothes. Keeping a wary eye, they dashed through the door and out of the way. The animal by this time was scampering away.

Going back to the shack was almost out of the question, for he had left his unmistakable scent behind him.

"There goes my night's sleep all shot to pieces," exclaimed Phil in an aggravated tone. "First I go on a wild goose chase to hear a plot and hear nothing, then this comes up, and blooie, there is goodbye to rest.

Bet you I take a nap this morning. Wonder if that smell will evaporate or will we have to build a new shack. Also there is going to be a door on the next one. I don't want any more night visitors like that chap."

"Hush a minute," whispered Garry. To the ears of the boys, trained by their work in the woods to catch the slightest sound, came the soft noise as of someone walking towards the bunkhouse. In a moment Garry was flat on the ground, wiggling along as does an Indian on the war path in a manner that the boys had often practiced when they were Scouts.

He was back in about five minutes. The others were all curious to know what had made him act in such a mysterious manner.

"Someone was prowling about, and just a moment ago went into the bunkhouse. I could hear him when he dropped his shoes as he got ready to crawl into the bunk. Here's what I think. That wood p.u.s.s.y may have wandered into the shack all by his lonesome, but for my part I think it is the first event in a campaign to make things so unpleasant for us that we will cut short our visit and go away," whispered Garry.

"They couldn't have picked on anything much better to make it unpleasant," answered d.i.c.k. "What will we do now?"

By this time the first faint streaks of dawn appeared, and in a little while the camp would be astir.

"It is almost morning, and now that we are wide awake and up, we might as well stay so," answered Garry. "First thing we do this morning is to get a few more boards and fashion a door for this shack. Also I saw some heavy screening yesterday,-you notice that all the windows are screened,-and we will tack a double thickness of that over the window.

That will afford us some slight protection against the invasion of more friends such as the one that paid us an unwelcome call."

In a little while the camp was starting to come to life. First appeared the cookee who favored the boys with a knowing grin, then came the cook, who immediately started the work of getting breakfast. Finally, struggling into their clothes as they came yawning through the doors, appeared the lumberjacks.

Garry cautioned his chums to say nothing for the moment about their experience of the night. They pa.s.sed several moments in chatting with those of the lumberjacks with whom they thought they might make friends that would perhaps stand them in good stead later on. Garry was telling a funny story and at its conclusion the men burst into a roar of laughter.

The red headed cookee happened to be pa.s.sing just as the men began to laugh, and he looked sharply at the boys. While he was serving them breakfast in the smaller room,-they happened to be alone as Barrows had not yet arisen,-he remarked:

"Understand you chaps didn't sleep very well last night."

"No, we didn't," answered Garry, looking up quickly.

"Well, better luck next time," and still grinning the cookee shambled out of the room.

"Well!" exploded Garry. "If that chap didn't go and give himself clean away first shot out of the gun!"

"Looks as though your hunch about its being a part of the campaign of ruthlessness was a fact," said d.i.c.k with a laugh.

"Only question in my mind," said Phil, "is did he think of it himself as a sort of a practical joke, or was he put up to it by Barrows?"

"Looks pretty certain to me that Barrows was the instigator of the matter," answered Garry.

When Barrows appeared, the boys explained the matter to him, and asked him for the necessary lumber with which to construct a door, also some screening for the window. Barrows told them they could go to the saw mill and select whatever they wanted in the way of boards.

As they were getting the boards, an old grizzled lumberman chatted with them. He asked why they wanted a door in that kind of weather, and Garry told him the story.

"They do leave a reg'lar trail behind them, don't they?" laughed the old man. "I'll tell you what you can do, though, and it will fix things up pretty well. I always keep some sulphur on hand when I'm in the woods.

Occasionally you get a rash from the browntail moths in the woods, and the best thing for a cure is a poultice made with a little sulphur. When you put your door on, take a few extra boards and board up your window.

Then take the sulphur that I give you and put it in a pan and set it on fire with a hot coal from the kitchen range. Then you hop out and let the shack get thoroughly filled with the fumes o' the sulphur, and you'll find after a couple or three hours that you'll have your place fumigated as pretty as if you had ten boards of health do the job for you."

The boys thanked the old timer, and left with their lumber. A few minutes later he appeared on the scene with his sulphur, and the work of boarding the window and making a door being completed, they did as he had directed and went on a tour of the camp.

As they were wandering about, with Sandy at their heels, they were again approached by the man who had wanted to go on a c.o.o.n hunt. This time they accepted his invitation, and arranged to go that night.

The day pa.s.sed quickly, for there were many things about the camp to attract their attention, and they asked numerous questions of such of the lumberjacks as seemed inclined to spend a moment or two to answer them.

As soon as it got dark, the c.o.o.n hunter appeared and asked if they were ready to go. He was accompanied by one or two of his friends, and Garry noticed that one of them carried a burlap bag.

The boys secured their rifles, and were about to join the party, when one of the men, noticing the guns, said:

"You don't need your rifles, although you can carry 'em if you want. We were aiming to catch the c.o.o.n alive and see if we couldn't tame him for a sort of pet around the camp. That's what we brought the bag for."

"Good," answered Garry. "We aren't much on shooting animals just for the sake of shooting."

The trio of men led the way to where the man called Tom had said he had seen a racc.o.o.n a few days before. Sandy was eagerly sniffing at the ground, and soon he gave vent to a low growl.

"By gosh, I believe he's got the scent already," chuckled one of the men. "It may be some other kind of an animal, but I doubt it. All I've seen around here is the racc.o.o.n, although there were a few rabbits at different times. Still the racc.o.o.n is the most likely to be out prowling at this time of night."

Soon Sandy was off, with his nose close to the ground. After a few moments he had left them entirely, and they followed only by means of his occasional barks. After almost half a mile of chasing, they heard a series of wild barks, and knew that Sandy had driven something to bay.

In a few moments they had caught up to the dog, and there sure enough he had something treed and was venting his pleasure by loud and vociferous barks.

They peered up into the tree and could see nothing. In the meantime one of the men had discovered a hole at the foot of the tree.

"Now one of you fellows get some branches, dry ones of course, and we'll soon have Mr. c.o.o.n all trapped as nice as you please."

One of the men, a.s.sisted by d.i.c.k, soon gathered an armful of dry sticks.

Getting a boost from his friend, Tom soon shinnied up the tree, and stopped after he had gotten about fifteen feet up well into the branches, for it was a small tree.