“Sure it is. They don’t come out by themselves to play around in the snow. Either some one dug this one up, or some one had it and dropped it. Well, I guess the best thing we can say is that it’s part of the mystery. If we could only meet with that man who seems so afraid of meeting us, matters might be explained. As it is——” Fenn could only finish by a shrug of his shoulders.
CHAPTER XXIV
A SHOT IN TIME
For some time the young hunters discussed the curious happening, but they could arrive at no solution of the mystery. Fenn took the turtle, and put it in a box back of the stove, hardly knowing why he did so, except that he had some notion of adding it to his collection, or of giving it to Professor Long.
“Well, there’s no use talking about it any more,” decided Bart. “Let’s get ready and go off on another hunting trip. We haven’t got much longer to stay here—not more than two weeks.”
This suited his companions, and soon they were cleaning their guns, sorting cartridges and fitting them in their belts, taking care not to make the mistake Frank did, when he was treed by the wildcat; and looking to their clothing and hunting boots.
That afternoon Fenn was seen to be busy in the cook tent. He looked out now and then, disclosing a face on which were many spots of flour.
“What you up to now, Stumpy?” asked Bart, who had finished his hunting preparations. “Making something good for grub?”