“My goodness, Billy!” muttered Dan. “It’s snowing so hard now that we could not see our hands before our faces. Lucky we beached the Fly-up-the-Creek as we did.”
Just then Billy fell over something. It was a section of tree trunk. Beside it was quite a heap of split wood, too.
“What do you know about this?” asked Dan, helping his brother to his feet.
“Cord wood, by crickey!” exclaimed Billy.
“Sh!”
“But who’s been cutting wood over here on this island——? Why! the dummy—if he’s the one that’s got the fire,” muttered Billy, asking and answering his own question.
“Correct!” agreed Dan.
By this time they were among the trees that covered the backbone of the island. There was quite a thick grove at this point.
“Step softly,” begged Dan.
“The snow will come pretty near deadening our footsteps,” whispered Billy. “Hullo! here’s a hollow stump.”