“A bear,” suggested Dick.
“I don’t believe there are any in these woods, though there may be. It’s wild enough.”
“Those aren’t bear tracks,” declared Bert. “I know, for a fellow with a dancing bear once went past our house, and it was just after a rain. I noticed the tracks, and they were as big as a ham. This isn’t a bear.”
Tom had arisen and was looking at the door of the cupboard.
“The wire fastening has been pulled out of place,” he said. “And look! Here are the marks of sharp claws. The wood is all splintered. Some wild beast took our bacon all right!”
[CHAPTER XIII]
A SHOT IN TIME
Tom looked around at his chums. From the tent Jack poked his head, having limped from his cot at the sound of Tom’s exclamation.
“Do you really think it was some sort of a ‘varmint critter?’” asked Jack.