“Uncle George has gone away from here, and left directions where to look for him,” announced Andy promptly, showing that he, too, had made a guess concerning the nature of that notice on the door.
“Shucks!” Tubby was heard to grunt, at the same time giving his burden an impatient flirt, as though almost in a humor to rebel against another long siege of packing it over miles and miles of dreary pineland.
But a surprise, and a pleasing one at that, awaited them all as they found themselves able to decipher the writing on the paper.
It proved to be a business sheet, with Uncle George’s printed address up in the left-hand corner. He himself had written the message in a bold hand, which any one capable of reading at all might easily make out; and this was what the trio of scouts read:
NOTICE.
“We have gone over to the Tucker Pond to try again for the big moose that for two past seasons has managed to fool me. This year I hope to bag him. He is a rare giant in size. Make yourselves at home. The latch string is always out. We expect to be back in a few days at the most. The door is only barred on the outside. Enter, and wait, and make merry.
(Signed) “George Luther Hopkins.”
When Tubby read that delightful news he fell to laughing until he shook like a bowlful of jelly. It evidently made him very happy, and he did not hesitate to show it to his two faithful comrades. Indeed, all of them had smiles on their faces, for it would be much more satisfactory to loaf around this spot, possibly taking toll of the partridges, and perhaps even a wandering deer, than to continue their search for an elusive party, whose movements might partake of the nature of a will-o’-the-wisp.
“I’m going to make a sign reading ‘Alabama,’ and stick it above the door, the first thing,” announced Tubby, with a grateful heart. “It means ‘here we rest.’ If ever three fellows deserved a spell of recuperation we certainly are those fellows.”
“How generous of Uncle George,” said Andy, “to say the latch string is always out! Then, too, he calls attention to the fact that the door is only held shut by a bar on the outside, instead of within. All we have to do, fellows, is to drop our packs here. I’ll remove that bar, and swing the door wide open, after which we’ll step in and take possession.”
He proceeded to follow out this nice little program,—at least he got as far as dropping his pack and removing the bar; but hardly had he started to open the door than Andy gave a sudden whoop, and slammed it shut again with astonishing celerity. Tubby and Rob stared at him as though they thought he had seen a genuine ghost.