Of course the object of the boys in leaving the cabin was to meet the Boy Scout who had signalled to them from the window. When they turned the corner of the cabin, they found a thin, pale lad in a torn and faded khaki uniform leaning against the outer wall.
"Why don't you come in?" asked Will.
"Is the miner in there yet?" asked the boy.
"Yes, he says the cabin belongs to him, and he's going to remain all night! What do you know of him?"
"Nothing at all!" replied the boy, "except that I've been following him for half a dozen miles in the hopes that he would lead me to some place where I could eat and sleep."
"Did you call out to him?" asked Will.
"No," was the answer. "I was afraid he would send me back if I did. Miners in this section are not fond of leading strangers to their claims."
"Where do you belong?" asked Sandy pointing to the Bulldog badge displayed on the boy's ragged coat.
"Bulldog Patrol, Portland," was the reply.
"How'd you get out into this country in such a plight?" asked Will.