"I see that you do."
"Say!" remarked Nat Wingate, rather abruptly. "Didn't you fellows play a little joke on us the other night?"
"How?" asked Piper, in puzzled tones.
"Why—fire a lot of snowballs. One of them knocked over the coffee-pot and another washed Bob Somers' face."
"Why, no! I assure you we didn't do it," said Rex Heydon, quickly. "No, sir—it may have been those two boys."
"Was an animal of some kind prowling around on your side of the lake last night?" broke in Hackett. "We heard the most awful lot of wild screeching you can imagine. It scared some of these little chaps pretty badly."
"Speak for yourself, 'Hatchet,'" said Tom Clifton, indignantly.
"Thought I heard wolves in the distance," answered Piper, "but wasn't sure. Nothing close to camp, though, was there, Robson?"
"Not a thing," was the answer.
The visitors stayed for some time, then, after cordially inviting the boys to come over and see them, shouldered their guns and began the return trip.