arter," announced Roger, after an examination
of the dead animal. "More than likely the beast would have died from
that wound."

"I don't know about that," returned our hero; modestly. "You are the one
who settled him. That was a fine shot, Roger. It couldn't have been
better." And on this the others agreed.

As no one cared to take the trouble to skin the wildcat, the beast was
left where it had fallen, and the boys once more took their way along
the trail leading to the spot where they had seen the smoke. Soon the
trail made another turn, and then came out on a path which was wider and
showed considerable usage.

"Here are footprints," said Ben, pointing to them. "I believe we are
getting close to some sort of a house or cabin."

A few minutes later the broad path they had discovered made another
turn, and then in the distance they saw a neat log cabin, located on the
bank of a small mountain torrent. From the chimney of the cabin a thin
wreath of smoke was curling.

"That's the smoke we must have seen," announced Dave. "Now the question
is: Who lives there?"

"And how will they take our arrival," added Phil.

"Wait a minute!" ordered Dave, and put out his hand to stop his chums
from advancing. He had seen a man come limping from the mountain torrent
with a bucket of water in his hand. Now the man stopped in front of the
door to the cabin as if to look around before entering.

"Well, that isn't the wild man; that's sure! And it isn't Link Merwell,
either," announced Roger.

"Say, I've seen that man before!" cried Phil, in sudden excitement.

"You have, Phil?" questioned Dave. "Who is he?"

"Who is he? Unless I am greatly mistaken, that is my missing uncle,
Lester Lawrence!"

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MAN AT THE CABIN

"That man is your uncle?"

"Do you mean the man who disappeared so mysteriously after that
robbery?"

"That's the man." Phil's manner showed increased excitement. "Isn't this
the strangest thing that ever happened? To think of my running across my
uncle in this out-of-the-way place!"

"You want to make sure that he is your uncle first," warned Dave.
"Perhaps he is only somebody who looks like your relative, the same as
that Ward Porton resembles me," added our hero, with a grim smile.

"Oh, I am sure that man is my uncle," declared the shipowner's son.

"Do you think he is the same fellow we saw before--the wild man?"
queried Roger.

"I don't know as to that. Maybe he is," and