The days following the fire at the railroad tracks were quiet, as far as any new fire scare was concerned, and the boys sallied into the woods in search of adventure.
They found many things of interest, but the most interesting of all to them was the discovery of the mouth of a cave some distance from the lodge where they were staying.
The cave could be reached by means of a narrow, tortuous path through the woods, the path so overgrown in spots with weeds and tangled underbrush that the boys were forced to mark trees and stones in order to find their way to the spot.
But the aggravating part of this discovery was that the mouth of the cave was not big enough to allow of their passing through it even though, by the throwing of the light from a flash into the black interior, they could see that, a little further along, there was ample room for them to stand almost upright.
Of course they thought of enlarging the mouth of the cave, for they became the prey of an insatiable curiosity to see what was inside this mysterious hole in the mountainside. But to do this was almost impossible. The mouth of the cave was flanked by heavy rocks and it would take many hours of work to remove these, if, indeed, the feat were possible at all. And they were too lazy—or perhaps not quite curious enough—to take the trouble.
However, they thought of the cave often and gradually it became surrounded, in their own minds at least, by an air of mystery.
Herb thought it might have been the retreat of smugglers in olden days, Jimmy had it a counterfeiters’ den and Joe even went so far as to say that it might be in use now as a hiding place for contraband liquors. And so they got a great deal of fun from the discovery of the cave, even if they could not go any further in their explorations.
When they were not wandering about the woods, they were either at the ranger station, hobnobbing with the good-natured fellows there and discussing radio with the red-headed operator, or they were at home in the lodge, sending out messages from their own radio set. They received messages also, for there was a broadcasting station not so far away but what they might catch an occasional concert and some of the talks.
They had set up their apparatus soon after arriving and not until they had the set “ready for business” did they begin to feel really “at home.”
“Never lonesome these days—even in the backwoods!” cried Joe, as he joyfully clapped on a pair of head phones. “All you have to do is listen in on a concert or two to imagine you are back in dear old Clintonia again.”