there'd be tracks under the windows."

"Mr. Fits hasn't been here at all," Dave replied, with a good deal of
positiveness. "When we turned him out into the storm he went somewhere
else."

"Then how about the ghostly noises, and the embers in the stove?" Reade
wanted to know.

"Ask Dick," prompted Dave.

"I can't tell you," laughed Prescott. "I guess you'll have to ask Hen
Dutcher."

"Well, there's no one here but ourselves," Tom went on, as the boys
stood staring about the tiny shack. "As far as finding anything here is
concerned we may as well go about our task of wood gathering."

"I wish we could get at the bottom of the ghost mystery," muttered Dick
wistfully.

"So do I," agreed Reade, "but wishes aren't snow plows, and never were.
Fred Ripley and his cronies would be mean enough to come down here and
spoil our rest at night, but they'd never be brave enough to face the
long trip through the deep snow."

"Well, let's go along and get in the wood," Dick urged. So they went,
and more than an hour was spent in carrying logs into the main cabin. Of
course Greg, Dan and Harry assisted in this, while Hen was put to his
usual morning task of washing dishes and straightening things in the
cabin.

For dinner the main dish was a platter of steak, broiled over the wood
ashes in the fireplace, where the fire was briefly allowed to burn
nearly out.

In the afternoon water hauling was the main occupation, as well as the
only sport, for the boys had tried the slight crust on the snow, and had
found that it would not bear.

"If it grows colder, and stays so for twenty four hours," declared
Dalzell, "then we'll have a crust on all this white stuff that will be
strong enough to bear our weight. Then ho for tramping, and for hunting
with the air rifle!"

"Huh-m-m-m!" answered Harry. "Rabbits and rabbit stew!"

After the water hauling the Grammar School boys settled themselves for
some quiet enjoyment inside the cabin. Dave, Tom, Harry and Greg picked
out books and sat down to read near the windows. Dick, on the other
hand, elected to rove about the interior of the cabin, looking into odd
nooks.

"This water barrel might be a little nearer the fire," proposed
Prescott. "Then we wouldn't have to break a crust of ice mornings. Dan,
you don't seem to be doing anything. Suppose you come and help move the
barrel."

"All right," nodded Dalzell, jumping up. "Where do you want to put it?"

Dick pointed to the spot. As th