lay a single thing I've got down anywhere, but what it disappears
in the most _remarkable_ way you ever heard of, and bobs up somewhere
else! I must be haunted, I'm beginnin' to believe. Do _you_ know
anything about my knapsack, Giraffe?"

"Never touched your old grub sack, Step Hen; so don't you dare accuse
me of playing a trick on you. Sure you didn't hang it up somewhere; I've
known you to do some funny stunts that way;" and the tall boy called
"Giraffe" by his mates, stretched his long neck in a most ridiculous
manner, as he looked all around.

Eight boys were on a hike through the mountains of North Carolina. From
the fact that they were all dressed in neat khaki uniforms it was
evident that they must belong to some Boy Scout troop; and were off on a
little excursion. This was exactly the truth; and they had come a long
distance by rail before striking their present wild surroundings.

Their home town of Cranford was located in a big Northern State, and all
the members of the Silver Fox Patrol lived there; though several of them
had come to that busy little town from other sections of the country.

Besides two of those whose conversation has been noted at the beginning
of this chapter there was, first of all, Thad Brewster, the leader of
the patrol, and when at home acting as scoutmaster in the absence of the
young man who occupied that position, in order to carry out the rules
and principles of the organization. Thad was a bright lad, and having
belonged to another troop before coming to Cranford, knew considerably
more than most of his fellows in the patrol.

Next to him, as second in command, was Allan Hollister, a boy who had
been raised to get the bumps of experience. He had lived for a time up
in the Adirondacks, and also in Maine. When it came down to showing how
things ought to be done according to the ways of woodsmen, and not by
the book, the boys always looked to Allan for information.

Then there was a slender, rather effeminate, boy, who seemed very
particular about his looks, as though he feared lest his uniform become
soiled, or the shine on his shoes suffer from the dust of the mountain
road. This was "Smithy." Of course he had another name when at home or
in school--Edmund Maurice Travers Smith; but no ordinary boy could
bother with such a high-flown appellation as this; and so "Smithy" it
became as soon as he began to circulate among the lads of Cranford.

Next to him was a dumpy, rollickin