“A perfectly simple thing to do,” Roy declared. “But not a very serious mistake except in that it will take us a little longer to reach the Old Maid of the Mountains with the glad news.”
In their present state of impatience, however, any sort of delay seemed almost tragic, and the girls grumbled considerably as they turned to retrace their steps.
They had gone only a few feet when a call from Frank brought them to a startled standstill. There was something in his voice that made them turn quickly toward him.
“Look,” he said in a cautiously lowered tone, as he pointed ahead into the woods. “See that smoke over there? Means a camp of some sort.”
“Let’s go and investigate,” said Will immediately, feeling a sudden terrific thirst for battle. “It was just a little further on that those tramps attacked us the other day. Maybe—say maybe——” He said no more but began running full speed through the woods toward the spiral of smoke that curled upward through the trees.
The girls had almost forgotten about the tramps by that time, but Will’s excitement and lust of battle communicated itself to them and they followed him hotfoot, careful the while to make as little noise as possible.
“We’re probably following a false scent again,” gasped Mollie. “There isn’t one chance in a hundred there are tramps anywhere around here.”
As they approached closer to their goal they could distinctly hear the sound of voices, and their approach became still more cautious. Creeping closer, they saw through the trees the most curious little structure they had ever laid eyes on.
It was a hut, hardly more than a lean-to, made of logs and piled together in haphazard fashion. Grass and leaves had been used to stuff up the cracks, and on one side—the side nearest the girls and boys—was a small opening, evidently intended for a window.
“I wonder what they do when it rains,” Betty whispered to Mollie, who had pressed up close beside her. “They haven’t thought to put glass in their window.”