nimal to get a closer look at it in the daytime. He
inquired in surprise where the carcass had gone.

"If you can keep a straight face and deny everything, we will have a few
minutes of fun with Dick," said Garry with a wink.

"Go to it, I'm on," laughed Phil. Garry proceeded to start the coffee
and slice the bacon for breakfast.

Then walking over to where Dick lay still soundly sleeping, he stirred
him with his foot, shouting:

"Get up, lazybones, and make a mess of flapjacks for breakfast," for it
was admitted by the boys that Dick was the best cook of the three.

Dick rolled out of his blanket with a protesting murmur, and then ran to
the brook below the spring, where he dashed the cold water into his face
until the sleep fog had rolled away. On his way back he glanced at the
spot where the animal's body had been hung the night before. Not seeing
it, he turned to Garry and asked what he had done with the wildcat.

"What wildcat?" asked Garry in amazement, while Phil looked at Dick with
a blank face.

"Why, the bobcat or wildcat or civetcat, or whatever it was, that you
shot last night."

Garry turned and shook his head sadly at Phil.

"Poor chap, the strain of the last few days has been too much for him,
or else he is eating too much again before he goes to bed. He eats too
much anyway, that's why he has such awful dreams."

"Dream nothing," shouted Dick, half angry, half puzzled. "Do you mean to
stand there and tell me that you didn't turn the camp upside down last
night by shooting some sort of an animal?"

"Absolutely," declared Garry firmly.

"That must have been some dream that you had last night," chimed in
Phil, carrying out the joke.

Dick stared at his two companions, but seeing their sober faces,
muttered something to himself and set about fixing the flapjacks. By
this time he was firmly convinced that he had dreamed the whole
occurrence, and on being pressed by the boys, told his "dream," relating
exactly the circumstances of the adventure of the night before.

Although it nearly killed them to do it, the others maintained a
straight face and listened with interest. Breakfast over, Dick was
wandering around the camp when he discovered the beans he had set to
soak when he was roused by the shot that killed the nocturnal visitor.
Immediately he remembered that he had forgotten to do this before
retiring, hence he must have done it when he got up.

Without saying anything to his companions,