"Look here, have you been getting a whiff of it again, Bob?"
"Why, yes, several of 'em in fact, Frank," replied the other, in what seemed to be a surprised tone. "But what does that matter, when neither of us can find any fire around? I sniffed and sniffed, but although I just turned my eyes in every direction not even a tiny spark could I see. And that happened just three times, Frank."
"What! do you mean you smelled smoke three separate times since you left me?" demanded the saddle boy.
"I'm sure it must have been three, because it was between the first and second times that I tripped. Yes, and always in just the same place too, which was queer enough."
"That sounds kind of encouraging, Bob," declared Frank.
"Do you think so?" asked the other, puzzled to account for Frank's newly awakened interest. "Tell me why, won't you, please, Frank?"
"Sure, after you have answered me a question," Frank promptly remarked.
"All right, let's have it, then," his chum returned.
"Do you think you could find that exact spot again?" asked Frank.
"Meaning where I sniffed that smoke each time? Why, I guess I can, because I went back there twice, all right. Couldn't be quite satisfied that there wasn't something around there I ought to discover. But it turned out a fizzle, Frank."