"Hello, who's been scratching up the snow?" exclaimed Nat. "Did you do that, Somers?"
"No! We thought it was your work, Nat."
Nat grinned. "Don't try to tell me anything like that," he said. "They weren't there when we left camp."
"That's a sure thing," broke in Tom Clifton, earnestly.
"Honest, Bob—none of us were near that snow."
"Well, we didn't do it either;" and Bob spoke in such a tone as to leave no doubt of his sincerity.
"Who did it, then?"
There was an interval of silence, which John Hackett broke by remarking, "Those people across the lake may have come over and finding no one here thought they would amuse themselves a bit."
This seemed a perfectly reasonable solution of the matter, so the boys dismissed it from further consideration.
Twilight came, then night enveloped the scene. A moderate breeze fanned the fire, until huge, leaping tongues of flame sent out a glow of heat.