"Here are some footprints in the snow," came from Messmer. "We didn't make those."
"Those are the footprints of some animal!" cried Dave. "Maybe there's a bear here after all." He smiled as he made the remark.
"Looks to me more like the tracks of a horse," answered Henshaw. "Maybe somebody came over here from the shore on horseback."
"You want to be careful—it may be a wild beast after all," observed Shadow, nervously.
At that moment came a queer sound from outside of the cabin, which caused all of the lads to start. Messmer, who had the best of the torches, dropped it, leaving them almost in darkness.
"Why, I declare——" began Dave, when a form darkened the doorway and the next instant a big, bony mule entered the old cabin and stood among them. Some of the boys were frightened and started to retreat.
"It's only a mule!" cried Dave. "I don't think he'll hurt anybody. But how in the world did he get here?"
"His halter is broken," declared Roger. "He must have run away from somewhere."
"I know that mule," declared Shadow. "He belongs to Mike Marcy."
The man he mentioned was a farmer, living in the Oakdale district. Marcy was a close-fisted fellow who never wanted the schoolboys to have any of his fruit, and Dave, through no fault of his own, had once had considerable trouble with the fellow.