"Let's go in and take a look around," suggested Shep. It was his delight to poke around in new and odd places.
"We don't want to lose time," was his chum's reply. "It will be dark before you know it."
"Oh, it won't take long to look," answered Shep.
The old cabin was surrounded by weeds and bushes, and they had to fairly work their way to the doorway.
"Somebody has been here, that's certain," cried the doctor's son.
"Here are eggshells and newly picked chicken feathers."
"Hello, in there!" cried Whopper, poking his head into the small doorway. He could not see, for the cabin inside was dark.
Scarcely had the word been uttered when a most surprising thing happened. Something whizzed through the air, directly between the heads of the two boy hunters. It was a good-sized chunk of wood, and it struck a rock outside with a thud.
"Why—-why—-stop that!" stammered Whopper, and fell back, and Shep did the same.
"Evidently somebody doesn't want visitors," was the comment of the doctor's son. "I say," he called out, "what do you mean by heaving that wo——-"
Crash! From the interior of the cabin came another chunk of wood, a gnarled root, just grazing Shep's shoulder. Then a stone followed, striking Whopper a glancing blow on the hip. Both lads retreated in confusion.