"I might give a guess, but perhaps we'll never know," replied Paul.
"I suppose," ventured his chum, "you're thinking of that man, the fellow who stole our ham, and who came up here in that light rig?"
"Yes," said the patrol leader, seriously, "but when I was out on the mountain this morning after breakfast I thought I'd take a chance to follow that trail further. What do you think I found only a few hundred feet away from our camp?"
"I really don't know, Paul."
"The tracks of two other men!" came the reply, in Paul's most impressive manner.
"Oh! then the thief wasn't alone; he has friends up here!" ejaculated Jack.
"That's a point I'm not decided on," Paul went on. "These tracks were not made at the same time as his. They always cut across the long footprint, marked by the patch on the shoe. That told me they were following the thief. Then I figured out that, as it was impossible to do this in the night, they must have come across his trail early this morning, and taken it up."
"H'm! That sounds as if they might want to meet the thief. Then they can't be very dear friends of his, Paul!" exclaimed Jack.
"My idea is that they want to find the man who made those footprints. Just as soon as they discovered his tracks they started following him. And that was so close to our camp they must have smelled the bacon frying, and the coffee."