“Might as well. No telling what game we’ll see on our way back, and going in. We’ll fix up the camp so if we have to stay away over night it will be all right, though I don’t imagine any one will bother it.”
“Unless it’s that mysterious man,” said Ned, significantly. “He may come snooping around.”
“Well, if he does we can’t help it,” replied Bart, “only I’d like to catch him.”
“And I’d like to get back Mrs. Long’s diamond bracelet!” exclaimed Frank, with a flash of his dark eyes. “It’s not pleasant to be considered a thief!”
“Nobody really believes we took it,” declared Fenn.
“Well, don’t let’s talk about it,” declared Bart. “We will try to have a good time in town—that is, if Fenn’s arm doesn’t get any worse.”
“Oh, I don’t believe it will,” answered the injured lad, pluckily. But the sore was very painful.
Preparations for leaving camp were soon under way. The chums had an early breakfast the next morning—their last breakfast of the year, as Ned laughingly remarked—and then, with Fenn’s arm well wrapped up, so he would not take cold in it, and each of the other lads carrying a gun, they started off for the town of Cannistota.
The weather was pleasant, though a bit cold, and the sun was shining brightly on the snow which still covered the ground. The going at first was heavy, for it was through the woods, over a trail hard to discern, but when they struck the lumber road, leading into Cannistota, the traveling was easier.
They saw no game, save some rabbits, and a few squirrels, but they would not shoot at these. They could not make very good time, and it was nearly noon when they came in sight of the town, which lay in a valley, surrounded on all sides by hills.