He stood and thought for a minute or two, but aside from the coincidence, Wilbur could not see that there was anything strange in that. They worked busily for a few moments, girdling the infected trees, and also girdling some small useless trees near by, because, as the hunter explained, when the beetles flew out seeking a new tree to destroy, they would prefer one that was dying, as a tree from which all the bark has been cut away all round always does, and then these trees could be burned.
"Have you noticed wheel tracks around here?" asked the hunter thoughtfully.
"I did think so," said Wilbur, "near that dead tree, but I s'posed, of course, I was wrong. What would a wagon be doing up here?"
Suddenly the Ranger dropped his ax as though he had been stung. He turned to the boy, his eyes flashing.
"Boy!" he said, "did you see the stump of that dead tree!"
"I didn't notice," said Wilbur wonderingly.
The old woodsman picked up his ax, and led the way back to the dead tree.
Wilbur looked at the base of the tree.
"It isn't a windfall," he said; "it's been cut."
"Where's the stump?" asked Rifle-Eye.