"Oh, I only meant to get out my newspaper again, and make another little candle," said Elmer, with a chuckle.
"Well, say what you will, boys," remarked Lil Artha, who had been thrusting his head below the level of the floor and sniffing at a great rate; "I'm glad, too, that we don't just have to drop down this ladder. It's cold and damp down there, and I tell you I don't like the smell."
"There is a queer odor comes up, now that you mention it," admitted Elmer.
At that the eyes of Chatz grew round with wonder and suspense.
"Oh, I hope you don't think—" he began, when Elmer interrupted him.
"Kind of fishy smell, don't you think?" he said.
"Well, since you speak of it I rather guess it is something like that," Lil Artha admitted.
Then Chatz breathed easy again.
"But how could fish ever get in here from the mill pond?" he demanded.
"Give it up; I pass. Ask me something easy," the tall scout hastened to say.