“It’s a man!” exclaimed Ned. “It’s a man with ragged clothes on! I’ll bet it’s the same tramp that was on the hay barge!”
Jerry was gazing intently through the opened canvas sides of the boat at the figure. Sure enough it was that of a man, and, he seemed to have just swam across the river. He climbed the bank, and, turning to take a look at the motor boat, placed himself full in the glare of the gas lamp.
“It’s our queer tramp all right!” exclaimed Jerry. “I wonder if it was he who moved the boat.”
“Must have been,” decided Ned, after a moment’s thought.
The next instant the figure, turning as if to take a last look at the boat, plunged into the underbrush and was lost to view.
The morning came without further adventures and after breakfast they walked for a mile or more through the woods, and emerged into a big field. There were no houses in sight and the boys did not know what settlement they might be near, for they were about twenty miles from home, in a part of the country they seldom visited.
“Looks like some sort of habitation over there,” said Bob, pointing to the left.
“I don’t see anything,” replied Jerry. “Where do you see a house?”
“I don’t see any house, but I see smoke,” replied Bob. “Where there’s smoke there’s fire, and where there’s fire there’s sure to be some one living.”
As they came nearer to whence the smoke arose they could see half hidden in the bushes a sort of log cabin. It was almost in ruins, and the one window was devoid of glass.