CHAPTER VII
At Bronson’s Cabin
Kent stirred and sat up in his sleeping bag. In the dimness of the tent he saw that Barry was not there. He heard the twins move and say something in the next tent. Then Kent seemed to remember that someone had spoken.
“Where are you, Barry?”
“Out here,” came the answer. “Somebody has been in the camp.”
Kent and the twins joined him as soon as possible. Barry was heaping more wood on the fire.
“You say somebody was in the camp?” Kent asked.
Barry pointed to the spot where the man had stood. “A man was standing there when I just came out to put more wood on the fire. I couldn’t make his face out very well, but he was a short, stocky fellow, and I just took it that he was the Frenchman you boys saw.”
“I’ll bet it was,” Tim answered. “Any of our things missing?”
Barry shook his head. “I believe not—at least I can’t see that anything is. It looked to me as if he had just arrived. What time is it, anyway?”
Mac tugged his watch out of his pocket and looked at the dial by the light of the fire. “Ten minutes past three a. m.,” he announced.