camp-fire; because he
was a Maine boy, and as such had spent considerable time in the piney
woods of his native State, hunting, fishing, and living close to
Nature's heart.

While they could not indulge in any of their songs, according to the
regulations that had been put in force by the patrol leader, this did
not prevent the boys from enjoying sundry good laughs when comical
stories were told.

"Reckon Bob's been gone more'n an hour now," remarked Step Hen, who had
been more thrilled by the story of the Government agent's sad fate than
any of the others; because Step Hen had always been a great reader of
tales of daring and adventure, and often pictured himself playing the
role of a hero, with the admiring crowd cheering him to the echo, and
wanting to carry him around on their shoulders.

"Yes, and pretty soon Allan will be going out to communicate with him,
because, you know they arranged a series of signals by means of the
lantern, and burning matches that Bob'll hold up. But don't talk too
loud about that same matter, Step Hen; because, you understand, we're
close by the road; and somebody might be coming along at the time.
Remember that man we saw sitting on the rock with his gun between his
knees? Well, I guess there are a considerable number of others just like
him around these diggings; and by now they all know we're in the
mountains, bent on some errand they can't understand."

Of course it was Thad himself who said all this. He knew the failing
Step Hen had of shouting everything out loud; and Thad really believed
they would be wise to carry on their conversation in tones that could
not be heard very far away.

It turned out later that he was wiser than he dreamed, when he gave Step
Hen this little hint.

They had started Bumpus telling how an angry bull had once chased him
around a tree on his uncle's farm, and the boys were laughing at his
comical description of the scene at the time when the pursuit was
hottest, and he could have caught hold of the animal's tail had he
wanted, when a dismal wail arose.

"Well, did you ever, if that ain't Step Hen putting up his regular
howl!" exclaimed Giraffe, indignantly.

"And just when Bumpus here had got to the most exciting point in his
yarn," added the disgusted Davy Jones.

"Whatever are you looking for now, you poor silly thing?" demanded the
story-teller, who himself disliked very much to have his thrilling tale
interrupted in this manner.

"I can