The guide gave expression to a wry smile and went on about his work of preparing for a week-end camp. Lieutenant Wingate attended to the unloading, the equipment being piled in orderly manner, and, after a time, Stacy was prodded into assisting him.
“Mercy! What a peculiar odor there is here,” exclaimed Grace. “Don’t you smell it, girls?”
Nora, Emma and Elfreda sniffed the air.
“Hippy, what is it? Don’t you smell something disagreeable?” demanded Nora.
“Now that you speak of it, I do. Stacy, see if you can find anything dead about here.”
“The place is all dead,” growled the fat boy. “No excitement, no nothing. But there may be, there may be.”
“May be what?” asked Hippy, regarding the boy keenly.
“Oh, nothing much. I was just thinking.” Stacy avoided Hippy’s eyes, for his was a guilty conscience. Stacy Brown had been making an experiment, but as yet he did not know whether or not it was going to produce satisfactory results. He saw Hamilton White give him a slanting glance out of the corners of his eyes, and got busy at once unrolling packs and laying out the tents. This alone should have been sufficient to arouse the suspicion of the Overland Riders, for the fat boy never worked unless for some particular reason of his own. The others of the party were too busy to notice him, and after a time they became used to the strange odor, faint at times and then strong, as the evening breeze stirred it into life.
At supper, however, they did find it most unpleasant, and Lieutenant Wingate discovered that the odor was always more noticeable in the vicinity of Stacy, but he made no comment. The guide some time before that had made a similar discovery.
Immediately after the evening meal, Mr. White made a survey of their surroundings, including a visit to the top of the big rock. From there he found what he expected to find, an excellent view of the mountains and the forest for many miles about, but the light was fading, and he deferred further survey until the morning when the light would be right to see much farther.