also come across
the track of some deer, and hoped to get on the trail of big game
in the near future.

But Tuesday morning brought a disagreeable surprise. They were
just getting ready for dinner, and Giant was out in the boat, fishing,
when they heard a noise that was new to them.

"What do you suppose that is?" asked Whopper. "Sounds like an
automobile approaching," answered Shep. "But of course it can't
be that."

"It's a gasolene launch," declared Snap. "There she is now!" and he
pointed to an outlying spur of land, around which the craft was puffing.

The launch was a craft fully forty feet long and correspondingly
broad of beam. She was piled high with an outfit for camping, and
in the boat were six men, two of whom were evidently camp helpers
and guides.

"I believe those men are coming here!" declared Shep, as the launch
turned in toward them.

The boys watched the approach of the gasolene launch with interest.
It did not take long for the craft to reach a position directly
in front of the camp, and there the power was turned off and one
of the men prepared to leap ashore.

"Hullo!" ejaculated a man in the stern of the launch, gazing ashore
at the cabin. "What in thunder does this mean?"

No one answered him, and a moment later the bow of the launch
scraped the sand and one after another the men leaped out. The
boat was tied up and the men approached the young hunters.

"I say, what does this mean?" demanded the man who had spoken
before. He was a burly individual, with a heavy black moustache
and closecut beard. The look out of his eye was far from a pleasant
one.

"What does what mean?" returned Snap, as coolly as he could, yet
he felt that something "was in the wind."

"This!" cried the man, pointing to the cabin. "Who built that?"

"We did," put in Shep.

"Did you?" sneered the man. "And who gave you permission to do it?"

"Nobody," said Whopper. "We took permission. What have you got
to say about it?" he added, not liking the man's tone.

"What have I got to say about it?" ejaculated the bearded man.
"I've got a good deal to say about it, seems to me. Don't you
know this is my private property?"

"No; we didn't know that," put in Snap, quickly. "Are you Mr.
Chester?"

"No; I am Mr. Andrew Felps."

"Oh!" exclaimed Snap, but the word meant a good deal. He remembered
that the man named was the head of the lumber company with which
the Barnaby Lumber Company had had it