Gus looked as though about to break down again, seeing which Hugh hastened to say something.
“But hold on there, Gus,” was what he remarked, hastily and cheerfully; “remember that a scout doesn’t give in so easily as all that. It’s true your wandering Brother Sam doesn’t seem to be here now, but that’s no reason he hasn’t occupied this bunk-house of late.”
“Hello, that sounds like you have seen signs, Hugh!” exclaimed Arthur.
“Well, I have,” came the answer. “Let’s look around a bit before we decide that there was nothing back of the story. Here you can see there’s been a fire lately on this broad hearth where the cooking is done. Like as not the last time the loggers were here was many months ago, and the rain coming down the broad chimney would have leveled the ashes, which you see isn’t the case right now.”
The scout master bent down and placed his hand on the heap of ashes. He quickly drew it back again, and turned a smiling face toward the other boys.
“Try the test and see for yourselves,” he urged, which every one of the others hastened to do, also receiving a surprise in turn.
“Why, what d’ye think of that, it’s actually warm!” exclaimed Billy, as he started to wring his fingers as though he had burned them.
Gus stared hard at Hugh. The pallor was leaving his face, while a sparkle as of revived expectation and hope could be seen in his tear-dimmed eyes.
“What does that mean, Hugh? Oh, please tell me, because it seems as if I couldn’t collect my wits enough to reason it out!” he begged, laying a quivering hand on the khaki sleeve of his chum.
“Well, there’s certainly been some person or persons holding forth here not so long ago,” said the other, with the positiveness of conviction. “You can see signs where they’ve done some primitive sort of cooking. Here’s the head of a rabbit which no doubt they snared or shot; and over there are scales showing that they found some way of getting fish out of the stream.”