ce away; and while the scouts could
hardly expect to climb its rocky side that day, possibly camp might be
made at the base.

Even the cripples seemed to mend under the promise of reaching the foot
of the mountain that afternoon. They walked briskly for half an hour at
least, and then fell back into the same old limp, though proving game
for the finish.

"No signs of wheels around here, are there, Paul?" asked Jack, as he
sought the side of his chum at the head of the straggling procession.

"Now that's queer, but d'ye know I was just thinking about that same
thing," the scout leader remarked. "To tell you the truth I was
examining the ground as I went along. Perhaps you noticed me, and that's
why you spoke?"

"Yes, that gave me an idea," admitted Jack, readily enough. "I wondered
whether those fellows could have gone past us last night while we were
in camp, and are even now perched somewhere on the mountain, watching us
crawl along down here."

"Well, that's just what they've done. See here, you can notice the marks
of the bicycle tires in the road. Little travel away up here, and along
the side where it's smoothest they've gone single file, following the
motorcycle of Ward, I guess."

"Why didn't we see that before, then?" demanded Jack, frowning as he
eyed the tell-tale marks.

"I have looked a number of times," Paul went on; "but couldn't see
anything. So you can understand it gave me something of a shock just now
to discover the tracks."

"Have you reasoned it out?" asked his chum; knowing full well that Paul
would never allow such a problem to remain unsolved long.

"There's only one explanation Jack, that I can see. Perhaps you
remember noticing a little side road that joined with this one about a
quarter of a mile back?"

"Of course, I remember it. Then you think----"

"They must have come out of that road ahead of us," Paul went on.
"That's the way they got in their licks. Somebody knew about how it
turned around, and joined on to the main stem again. What do you say,
Jack?"

"Why, of course. And now I remember hearing Scissors boast that he had
the only map ever made of the Rattlesnake Mountain country--a logger
charted it one winter, hoping to get his governor interested in some
timber cutting scheme he had in mind, which fell through though."

"That settles it. They're on the ground first; but what do we care about
that, if they only leave us alone?" Paul remarked, seriously.

"There's a