, lying flat on his back
perhaps, was making a grating noise not unlike a snore.

The second time Phil struck a match, one of the silent kind, and took a
look at his watch, curious to know how the night was wearing away. He
found it was two o'clock, and that the guess he had made was not far
amiss.

It took him some little time to get asleep again after that, but in the
end he managed to accomplish it. Daylight would be coming by four
o'clock and as the novelty of the outing was still upon them, it was to
be expected that the boys would want to be up with the birds--that is,
all but Lub, who loved sleeping better than plunging into the lake for
an early morning swim.

It was fated, however, that they were not to be allowed to slumber
calmly on until the approach of the sun hurried the round moon out of
sight below the western horizon.

A most unearthly racket sounding awoke every one. If an earthquake had
occurred it could hardly have created a greater noise. And the big
frying pan proved that the supreme confidence which Lub had placed in
its ability to jangle had not been in the least overdone; for it
certainly played a fandango as it pitched over on the hard floor of the
cabin, and danced some sort of jig, with other things adding their
little mite to swell the chorus.

Four fellows came tumbling out of their bunks as one.

"Phil, oh! Phil, strike a light!" cried one.

"Where's my gun?" growled X-Ray Tyson, thinking that in this way he
must give fresh alarm to the bold intruder, whoever he might prove to
be.

"Phil, the thief has come down the chimney, just as I feared!" called
Lub, who in the darkness hardly knew which way to look.

As he managed to get his bearings to some degree he was sure he could
detect a man on his hands and knees crawling over the floor. At the same
time he heard a whining sound, as well as what seemed to be scratching;
and it struck terror to the heart of poor Lub. He fancied that others
were without, waiting for the first thief to open the door, in order
that they too might rush in, and help make prisoners of the four
Mountain Boys.

Just then Lub to his great relief saw a tiny flame spring up close by.
This he knew must be a match in the hand of Phil Bradley, who was
meaning to light his lantern.

To Lub it seemed an age before the flame was communicated to the wick,
and yet it could only have been a comparatively few seconds, no longer
than Phil would have taken under ordin