"Wake up there, lazybones!"
Frank opened his eyes. The sun was actually shining in through the front of his tent, much to his mortification and surprise.
"That's about the first time I've ever been caught napping," he remarked to Will, who was now ding-donging a big spoon on the bottom of a frying-pan, to indicate that breakfast was ready.
Frank had been up the greater part of the night, on guard. He had assumed most of the care of the camp himself, only dropping down when the hour was getting on toward dawn.
The others, knowing this, had been careful not to arouse him, but had gone on with the duties of the morning.
"It's good of you, boys, to let me sleep so long. I guess I must have needed it, too. Count me in before you've been at it five minutes," and so saying he slipped through the woods to a little brook near by, where they could hear him splashing about at a great rate.
When breakfast was done they began to consider what the duties of the day were to be. They had come up here into the mountains not to hunt, for the close season was on all edible game, but to knock around and have a good time generally. Incidentally, of course, they expected to look into that ghost story, and endeavor to learn just how much truth lay back of it.
Already considerable progress had been made, Frank thought.
He had prodded the boys who were in the camp at the time the specter showed up, and upon putting their stories together, came to the conclusion that the ghost must have appeared on the east side of the place.
Hither Frank hied himself immediately after he had finished eating. Dropping down on his hands and knees, he commenced to examine the ground with all the care of a red trailer of the plains and forest.