He knew that the boy who had spent so much of his time in the woods, trapping the cunning little furry inhabitants in seasons gone by, would not alarm him needlessly.  And so, watching his chance, Hugh managed to shoot a glance toward the opening without betraying the fact that he was particularly interested in that quarter.

As he did so, he was just in time to see a face vanish from view.  In fact, he barely caught a fleeting glimpse of it, and yet Hugh felt perfectly sure that he had not alarmed the watcher in any way.

The cause of the unknown party’s sudden withdrawal was speedily made plain.  Bud seemed to be gasping, and immediately whispered hoarsely: 

“Great guns! did you see that, fellows?  As sure as my name’s Bud Morgan there was a man peeking in at the window there!  Honest Injun, there was!”

Undoubtedly the unknown visitor must have discovered Bud staring straight at him, and thought it high time to disappear.

“Yes, we both saw him, Bud,” said Hugh, rather disappointed that, after all, the fellow had been chased away before they could find out his identity or what he wanted, prowling around in such a suspicious way.

“Who in the dickens was it?” exclaimed Bud, evidently growing angry now that his astonishment had worn away.  “The nerve of him, poking his nose in where it isn’t wanted!  Why don’t we get a move on and chase after him?  Ralph, remember that you’ve got your scatter-gun handy.  Don’t forget to take that, will you?”

“Did you recognize that face, Ralph?” asked the practical scout leader, turning to the young trapper of the past.

“I think—–­yes, I’m nearly dead sure it was one of the two men I saw acting in such a suspicious way this afternoon,” came the answer.

“Which one, would you say?” continued Hugh.

“The taller one,” came from Ralph without hesitation.  “I think you said he looked a little like the German type, wasn’t that about it, Ralph?”

“Yes, that was what I believed at the time I saw him,” replied the other.

He had already stepped over and picked up his gun.  There was a gleam in his eyes that told of a spirit aroused.  Ralph had become a scout and was to the best of his ability trying to live up to the duties of one belonging to the organization; but of course there were times when the old spirit would come to the surface.  The present occasion was one of these moments.

“Let’s go outside and look around,” Hugh suggested.

“Bully idea!” muttered the impatient Bud; and having no gun to grasp, he made a lunge for the stout stick which Ralph had been using as a sort of poker when the fire needed attention.

Hugh did something still more practical.  He stooped down and calmly selected a certain blazing brand from the fire.  This was of such a nature that when properly handled it could be made to serve as a pretty fair torch.