of a wild animal is prowling around this place."

"Py chiminy! Vos it von of dem catpobs?" ejaculated Hans, turning pale.

"I don't know what it is."

"Where is it now?" came from Fred.

"I don't know that, either. It was slinking around yonder bushes a
minute ago."

"Let us stir up the fire," put in Songbird. "All wild animals hate
a big blaze." And he set the example, and Hans helped to heap up the
brushwood.

"I ton't vont to become acquainted mit dem catpobs nohow," said the
German youth. "He can go avay so kvick like he come."

After the fire was brightened, there came a painful pause. Each boy
was on his guard, with eyes straining from their sockets.

"I see something!" cried Fred suddenly.

"Where?" asked the others in a breath.

"There--but it's gone now."

Again they waited, and soon came a rustling on the other side of the
camp, followed by the cracking of a bone which had been thrown away
during the evening repast.

"There he is!"

"Shoot him!"

"No, don't shoot!" burst out Tom. "I know what it is."

"What?"

"Nothing but a dog."

"Nonsense."

"I say it is." Tom began to whistle. "Come here, old boy," he went
on. "Good dog, come here."

At this, the animal stopped crunching the bone and came forward slowly
and suspiciously. It was indeed a large, black dog, with curly hair
and lean sides.

"Hullo!" cried Sam. "Come here, that's a good dog. Say, fellows, he
looks half starved."

"Are you sure it ain't no catpob?" queried Hans anxiously.

"Yes, Hans," answered Songbird. "He is nothing but a dog, and rather
friendly at that."

The dog came closer, wagging his tail slowly and suspiciously. Dick
put out his hand and patted him, and then he waved his tail in a
vigorous fashion.

"He is willing enough to be friends," said the eldest Rover. "I
shouldn't be surprised if he is homeless."

"In that case, we might adopt him," said Tom, who loved a nice dog.

"Let us try him on something to eat," put in Songbird. "There is no
meat left on that bone."

Some things had been saved for breakfast, and a portion was set before
the newcomer. He devoured it greedily and wagged his tail furiously.

"He feels at home now," said Dick, and he was right. The dog leaped
up, first on one and then another, and licked their hands.

"What's your name?" asked Tom, and the dog wagged his tail and gave
a low, joyful bark.

"Better call him Wags," suggested Sam. "He seems to be death on
keeping that t