"Those really are voices," insisted Charley.
"Now who's getting dippy?" laughed Lew. "You'll be as bad as I am if you keep on."
"But I do hear voices," protested Charley. "I plainly heard the word 'six.' Listen. Somebody said 'eight,' just as plain as could be."
Lew looked puzzled. "Of course there might be some fishermen in here besides ourselves," he said.
They looked carefully about them, but at first saw nothing. Then a voice distinctly said, "Hemlock--five." There could no longer be any doubt. Some one besides themselves was in the forest.
They made their way in the direction of the sound. Presently they saw three men. Two of them carried calipers and walked in advance. The third came behind and held a pencil and note-book.
"Wonder who they are and what they are doing," Charley said quietly.
"Let's watch and see."
But in a moment the approaching party caught sight of them. "Good-morning, boys," said the man with the note-book. "Out for trout?"
"Surest thing you know," replied Lew. "But we've had hard luck. We intended to fish in the valley back of us. It used to be a fine place for trout. But it's been burned over and there are no trout left."