"Sure thing, Bob. Sometimes I hiked quite a long distance from the fire."
"Me too," chimed in Tom.
"No 'me too' business here," asserted Jack. "Travers never skipped out while I did my little stunt o' soldierin'; no, sir."
"Oh, cracky! I wonder what it all means!" wailed Tom.
"And so do I," came in drowsy tones from a recumbent figure. "You chaps make such a hullaballoo I—I—can't—sleep."
Dave's eyes were closing again, when a loud "Dick's missing!" from Jack Conroy opened them wide.
"What—what!" gasped the stout boy, promptly raising himself on his elbow. "Dick missing!"
"Sure as shootin', Dave; he beat it, an' without sayin' a word."
"Did he take his gun?"
"Yes; but he couldn't do any huntin' by moonlight; an' why is he stayin' away such a long time, eh?—it's been hours."