"Always was," answered the fat boy, swelling with importance.
"Come, we'll have to hurry back It will be dark before we reach camp, as it is, and the Professor will be worrying about you."
They turned about, and, heading across the burned area, started for camp. Fitful blazes were springing up here and there, but all danger had, by this time, passed, though the smoke still hung heavy and the odor of burned vegetation smote the nostrils unpleasantly.
Stacy sniffed the air suspiciously.
"Tastes like a drug store fire I smelled once in Chillicothe," he averred.
"I haven't made up my mind, yet, how that fire started, Mr. Kringle," wondered Tad.
"I have," replied the guide tersely.
"How?"
"It was set afire!"
"By whom?"