top of a hill, and, looking through the trees, they could
see, sparkling in the sun, the waters of Green Pond, about two miles away.

"That's where Mr. Barker lives," said Laddie.

"And maybe the red-haired lumberman is there with daddy's papers," said
Russ. "Oh, Laddie! I know what let's do!"

"What?"

"Let's go down to Mr. Barker's place and ask the lumberman if he's a
tramp, and if he is the one that took the old coat. Let's do that!"

"All right," agreed Laddie. "It isn't far and Zip will ride us there and
home again, so we won't get tired. If we get the papers won't daddy be
glad?"

"Terrible glad! Come on, we'll go!"

And, calling to Zip to come away from the rabbit hole, Russ and Laddie in
their dog-cart started on a trip which was to have a strange ending.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LUMBERMAN'S CABIN

Along the road that led down the hill, and through the woods to Green
Pond, went Zip the dog; pulling after him the cart in which Russ and
Laddie rode.

"I'm glad we're riding," said Laddie. "It would be awful far to walk to
Mr. Barker's place at Green Pond and back again, wouldn't it, Russ?"

"Oh, I don't know," Russ answered slowly, as he guided Zip around a turn
in the crooked path. "I could walk it, but your legs aren't as long as
mine. I walked two miles once, with daddy."

"What'll we do when we see that red-haired lumberman?" asked the smaller
boy.

"We'll ask him for daddy's old coat and the papers."

"But maybe he'll want the old coat," suggested Laddie.

"Oh, well, he can have that," Russ answered. "Daddy gave him that, anyhow.
But we can ask him for the papers."

"S'posin' he hasn't got 'em?"

"What makes you s'pose so much?" demanded Russ. "Wait till we get there,
and we can tell what to do."

"All right," agreed Laddie. "I can be thinking of a riddle. Maybe I could
ask the lumberman a riddle, Russ. Could I?"

"Maybe. But maybe he doesn't like 'em. Some folks don't."

"I could ask him an easy one, about the miller's hat, or about why the
tickets don't get mad when the conductor punches 'em."

"No, don't ask him that one," Russ said.

"Why not?"

"'Cause that one about the tickets is too hard--nobody knows the answer.
You don't yourself."

"I know I don't, but maybe the lumberman might. Maybe he'd like to answer
it. I guess I'll ask him."

"No, don't do it," advised Russ. "He's a poor lumberman, or he wouldn't
want an old coat. And if he's poor he wouldn't pay money for