“I’ll get the other fellows, and then we’ll see if we can’t trail him,” mused Bart, as he neared the camp.
To his delight, just before he reached it, the snow ceased falling, and he felt that now there was a chance to trace the man by means of his footsteps, for they would not be covered by the white crystals. But there was the promise of more snow, and Bart knew they had little time to spare.
“Come on, boys!” cried Bart, when he came in sight of the tents, and saw Ned and the others sweeping away the snow from the front entrances. “Come on. I’m after him!”
“Who?” demanded Frank.
“The mysterious man! Come—no time to lose!” and Bart rapidly told what he had seen.
“Wait until I get my gun, and I’ll be with you!” cried Fenn.
“Aren’t we going to have dinner first?” asked Ned.
“We’ll eat a light lunch, and take a snack with us,” proposed Frank. “We don’t want to waste too much time.”
In a little while they were ready to start, each one with a few sandwiches, while Bart, in addition, carried a small coffee pot, and a supply of the ground material for making the beverage in the woods; water could be had by melting snow over a fire they would build.
Bart led the way toward the mud volcano, the location of which was now well fixed in the minds of the boys.