“It’s a smokepipe—a chimney,” he whispered.
“What is?” muttered Billy, puzzled.
“That hollow stump.”
“Crickey! where’s the fire?” demanded Billy, in amazement.
“Under the ground—somewhere. There’s a cave—a den in the rocks. Somehow a smoke flue has been dug to the hollow tree——”
“If it was hot enough to reflect upon the snow above the top,” objected Billy, “the old tree would be afire.”
“Not if they had lined it with clay, and baked the clay first,” responded Dan.
“Gee, Dan! you’ve got a head!”
“I hope so,” returned Dan, laughing.
“But could the dummy have done all that——?”