Bandy-legs was appearing rather uneasy. He could not forget what a tremendous pull he had received at the time he was awakened; and the very thought that they might even now be in the abiding place of the creature that had been responsible for his fright gave him new cause for shivering.

He looked up and around, as though suspecting that the aforesaid human being might be hiding close by, and watching them with ferocious eyes.

But there was no loft to the squatty cabin, and hence no place where anybody of size might lie in concealment. Still, Bandy-legs looked longingly down at his fish spear, and wished he had thought to shorten that pole, so he could always keep it handy in case of a sudden necessity.

Max even tried to find traces of footprints on the floor; but as the earth was as hard as rock he did not meet with any flattering success there.

"Anyhow, he had a fire in here, looks like, when he cooked that bird,"

Steve remarked, as he pointed to a little heap of ashes over where the chimney, that was made of hard mud and pieces of stone, stood.

Max saw that there seemed to be considerable of truth in this discovery of the quick-witted chum. There were certainly ashes there, a little heap of them, and these could not have been left behind when the former occupant of the cabin deserted his home years ago; for the winds of winter, sifting in through the partly open door, would have scattered the ashes long since.

They spoke of more recent occupancy, perhaps within the last month, or even week.

"I reckon, now, this is the cabin that boy spoke about, when they called out after us as we were leaving town?" Max said, half to himself, as he continued to look around him.

"And from the way he talked, you'd sure believe he thought it was the worst kind of a shack he'd ever struck," Owen went on to remark.

"I've been thinking that over," observed Steve, "and come to this conclusion--that they must have started to spend the night in this same cabin, and perhaps the ashes there are some from their fire. Then during the night they got their bad scare, which none of them would ever tell about, on any account. It must have come from _something_ that they saw in this same cabin; and whatever it was, it sent the whole bunch on the run for their boat. They said they nearly killed themselves as they b.u.mped into trees, fell over vines, straddled stumps; and when they came back to town they sure looked as if they had been through a fight."

"And this is that queer old cabin he said we'd run across?" ventured Bandy-legs, again turning to cast his eyes about him, this time in more of an awed manner than before, though the shack had not changed its appearance one iota meanwhile.

"But you see, boys," Max remarked, with a smile, "they started to bunk in here, and we don't mean to bother ourselves trying that, when we've got our good tents along. So, after all, I don't see why we shouldn't be able to stick it out the full week, and go back to laugh at Herb."

As he was speaking Max stepped across the interior of the deserted green-roofed cabin. Knowing that some notion had appealed to him, the others watched to see what he would do. They saw him stoop down beside the little pile of gray-looking ashes that lay in the fireplace.

"Watch him!" said Owen, beginning to suspect the truth.

Max thrust his hand down upon the heap; then he quickly moved it so as to further penetrate the ashes; after which he sprang hastily to his feet, exclaiming:

"Of course I don't pretend to say who the party was that devoured that partridge, fellows, but he must have had it for his supper _last night_; and there's been fire here up to this morning, _because the ashes are still warm!_"

CHAPTER VII.

THE MYSTERY OF THE CABIN.

Max, in whose ability to understand all such things they felt so much confidence, spoke those surprising words, the others showed more or less astonishment.

One by one they had to bend down, and put his a.s.sertion to the test, by poking a finger gingerly into the little pile of gray ashes. Even Bandy-legs would not rest satisfied until he had thus copied the example of the others.

"Warm-say, it's _hot_, fellers!" he exclaimed, as he hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed back his hand, and commenced to blow the ends of his fingers. "Anyhow, I guess I must 'a' just rooted out a live coal, for it burned like the d.i.c.kens."

"Well, we know one thing that we didn't before," a.s.serted Owen.

"Two, you'd better say, for they both sting like fun," grumbled Bandy-legs, rubbing his injured fingers vigorously.

"Yes," said Steve, "somebody's been in this old cabin, and not so very long ago, either; for they must have made a little fire about dawn, to fry a part of a partridge by. And if that's been all the poor critter had for his breakfast, I'd like to wager, now, he must be hungry yet."

"I'm glad of one thing," ventured Bandy-legs.

"That you didn't get three fingers scorched; is that it?" asked Steve.

"Naw!" answered the other, indignantly, "Tell you what it is, boys; I didn't believe much of it when they said it was ghosts up here on Catamount Island. Now we know there ain't none around."

"Well, how do you know it, Bandy-legs?" asked Max.

"Because ghosts--whoever heard of them wanting a fire, either to cook with, or else keep warm? Still, that awful howl we heard last night--I keep wonderin' what it meant, fellers?"

No one attempted to answer Bandy-legs. They believed they had about exhausted that subject while sitting around the camp fire on the previous evening, before starting to go to their blankets; and did not feel like reopening the question.

"Let's get out of this," suggested Steve, with a shiver.

"Second the motion," declared Toby, speaking straight again.

"Unless Max wants to hang around a little longer, in the hope of striking a clew that might tell us something about this queer old place, and the mysterious party that's been sleeping here," Owen followed with.

"Oh, I think I'm done looking around in here," the one mentioned remarked, with a shade of disappointment in his voice; for Max disliked to give up any object he had set out to attain.

"We might run across some tracks outside," suggested Steve.

"I meant to give that a try," Max explained; "but somehow I don't feel as if we'd have any great success there; because, when we came in I noticed that the ground was kind of poor for showing footprints--rocky, and covered with dead leaves that have drifted in here right along."

But all the same Max spent some little time hovering around, now down on his knees and closely examining the ground; again looking up at the swaying limbs of the overhanging trees, as though knowing that they could explain the mystery, if only they might speak.

"Any use, Max?" called out impatient Steve, presently; for he had been fretting at the delay for several minutes now.

"Give it up," returned the other, turning his back on the strange cabin with its green roof and lichen-covered walls.

"Which way now?" asked Steve, evidently pleased that they were going to make a move of any sort; for inaction galled him always.

"Back to camp?" queried Bandy-legs, hopefully; because he believed that was the one comfortable spot on all that island, and regretted ever having left it; though they could never have tempted him to remain in camp alone; not on that island with the evil name, at any rate.

"Well, after starting out, we ought to poke around a little farther than we've done this far, I should think," Max replied; "still, I'm ready to do whatever the majority say; three against two has always been our rule. How about it, boys?"

"G-g-go on!" exclaimed Toby, promptly.

"Same here," from Steve.

"Count me in," came from Owen, smilingly; for whatever Max thought right, his cousin could usually be depended on to back up.

"And I move we make it unanimous; because I don't just like being the only one on the other side," Bandy-legs ended up with.

"That settles it, then; so come along, and we'll keep on to the upper end of the island," Max suggested, leading off, gun in hand.

"Oh, wait, I've forgotten something!" cried Bandy-legs, running back.