the others proceeded to get the camp to rights for the night. Bert, whose turn it was to cook, started the oil stove, and began opening canned stuff. Tom looked to see if there was a good supply of wood for the campfire, for, though they did not really need it, they always lighted one for the sake of the cheerfulness.

“I say,” called Bert, as he went about collecting the various items he needed for the meal. “What did you do with that piece of bacon, Tom?”

[96]

[96]

“What piece?”

“The one partly sliced off. I laid it in this box, but it’s gone now.”

“Is that so?” asked Tom, and there was a curious note in his voice. “That’s queer. I remember seeing it there when we started off. We’ll have a look.”

“Oh, take another piece, and don’t delay the meal,” suggested Dick with a laugh.

“It isn’t that,” said Tom. “If things begin to disappear from camp we want to know about it, and find out who is taking them.”

Together with Bert he examined the place where the bacon had been put. This was in a box, fastened about four feet above the ground, in a tree. It was a sort of cupboard, thus raised, in which to keep stuff that was not protected by tins, so that prowling rats, squirrels or chipmunks could not get in. There was a door to it, fastened with a wire.

“Was the door opened when you went to get the bacon?” asked Tom.

“Yes,” answered Bert, “and I’m sure it was closed when we went away.”

Tom stooped down, and began examining the soft ground at the foot of the tree. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.

“What is it?” asked Bert, eagerly.

“There’s been some animal here,” declared[97] Tom. “A fox maybe. I can see the footprints, but I’m not enough of a naturalist to tell what made ’em.”

[97]

“A bear,” suggested Dick.

“I don’t believe there are any in these woods, though there may be. It’s wild enough.”

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