"And that's true every word of it," put in Max at that moment; "for just as I turned to quit this tent, as we were going off, that same sweater fell down off the nail. I stopped long enough to hang it up again. So if it's gone, the thief took a notion he could make good use of it."
Toby remained silent with indignation for a long time; and in his case this was not a mere figure of speech either, but a grim reality, for he was tongue-tied.
"Let Max hunt around, and see if there are any tracks," said Owen.
"That's the ticket!" added Bandy-legs; and both the others nodded their heads in immediate approval of the scheme.
Whenever it came down to a showing of woods lore, Max was the one always designated to handle the matter. His chums believed him capable of discovering almost anything going, if only a few faint tracks had been left behind.
Nothing loth, Max started in to look; but he knew in the beginning that the task would be a difficult one, and the results not at all equal to the exertion put forth.
Still he did find several places where a footprint, not at all like any made by their own shoes, seemed to tell where the intruder had stepped, in making his rapid rounds of the camp.
"There was only one thief, boys," he announced, after he had looked carefully.
"Man or boy, do you think, Max?" asked Owen.
"A man; and I should say a pretty hefty one, too," replied the other, with conviction in his voice.