Tom Clifton, at the thought, felt an uncanny feeling run through him.
"We didn't think that anybody except the Trailers was within miles of us," he faltered.
"Let us get at the facts in order," proposed Dave Brandon. "First: nobody could have touched the engine before we turned in, that's certain."
"Then it must have been done before that wildcat struck the camp."
A hot flush began to color Dick Travers' cheek.
"Or perhaps just after," he spoke up, manfully. "Sorry to say, boys, I was so tired I went to sleep."
"I can't blame you, Dick," said Bob; "it wasn't on account of the boat that you stayed up."
"Had all the Trailers turned in when you last took a look at them?" inquired Sam Randall.
"Yes—the whole crowd, and sleeping like logs, too."
"Let's look for footprints, fellows," suggested Dave.