last he
hit upon a bright idea.

"Look here," he said, "I'll bet you fellows know as much about the woods
as regular guides. Tom always said so, anyway. How is it?"

"Hamp and I have been out with my father a good deal," replied Jerry,
modestly. "We've been to Moosehead Lake and Chesumcook."

"And we're pretty fair shots," added Hamp. "We've been in at the death
of more than one bear or deer. If it wasn't for our being so young we
might get employment as guides. We were talking about that this
evening."

"I wouldn't want better guides," declared Brick. "If you fellows will
take me into the woods I'll pay each of you fifteen dollars a week, and
stand all expenses. Before we start I'll pay in advance for three
weeks."

He opened his pocketbook and showed the contents.

"I can easily afford it," he added. "I have nearly five hundred
dollars."

The boys were dazzled by this munificent offer. It brought tears to
their eyes to think of the relief that money would bring to the
afflicted ones at home.

"You're awfully kind," said Jerry, in a tremulous voice. "I'll gladly go
if my father will let me. And I'm sure he will."

"I know my mother won't object," added Hamp.

"Then it's as good as settled," declared Brick. "I can hardly wait till
we're off. I've been wanting to see the Maine wilderness for years."

"Know much about guns or hunting?" asked Jerry.

"Mighty little," Brick candidly admitted. "I never shot anything bigger
than a blackbird in my life. Game don't run loose in New York."

"We'll show you sport enough," promised Hamp. "Just wait till we strike
the deer."

The three lads fell to chatting with the freedom of old friends, and
Brick quite forgot his aching head.

During the next few days all arrangements were made, and Brick provided
himself and companions with a lavish outfit.

Brick had reported his adventure to the police, but without success. Mr.
Pendergast had doubtless left the town.

The ground was covered with snow to the depth of half a foot on the
crisp December afternoon when the young hunters landed at Katahdin Iron
Works--the terminus of the Bangor and Katahdin Iron Works Railroad.

They were now more than one hundred and fifty miles from the coast, and
very nearly in the center of Maine.

On the following morning they hired a sledge and driver, and were
transported thirty miles northward--to the end of a rugged lumber trail.
The next day they pushed ahead on foot, trailing tw