"Your room, Steve; you're a thousand times welcome to my share in them."
"Oh, thank you, Max, that's awful kind."
After a wearisome march they approached the cabin. It was late in the afternoon, but no friendly smoke arose from the chimney.
The returned hunters saw this fact with astonishment.
"What does it mean!" Steve remarked, as they came to a halt and set their burden down upon the ground.
"Hi, fellows!" called a voice.
Some one stepped out of the bushes across the little clearing and waved his hand. It was Owen, and he seemed to be beckoning in the most mysterious manner possible.
Max and Steve exchanged puzzled looks.
"What in the dickens is up now!" exclaimed the latter.
"Owen wants us to cross over to where he is," Max went on to say; "and I reckon the quickest way to find out is to join him."