t before," broke in Step Hen, with an intaking of
breath that betrayed excitement.

"'Cause nobody asked me; and every one wanted to have something to say,"
retorted the other. "It was a gun, and an _awful_ wicked looking one
too, about as long as my staff, seemed to me."

"Could it have been Old Phin?" suggested Allan.

"How about that, Bumpus; was he an old man with a gray beard?" asked
Thad.

"Nixey; that is I don't know how old he might a been; but I'm dead sure
he didn't have any beard at all, just a smooth face. But he was a
regular mountaineer, all right, Thad, with the dingy old faded brown
homespun clothes, the slouch hat, and the ragged pants that never came
near his brogans. He saw me lookin' at him, for he put on a little
spurt, and dodged behind that pile of rocks, where like as not he's
squattin' right now, waitin' to see what we're agoin' to do about it,
and ready to speak to us with that trusty weapon if we try to rush his
fort."

"Well, we're going to do nothing of the kind, just remember that," said
Thad, resolutely. "It's only natural that the men of these mountains
should feel a whole lot of curiosity about us. I suppose now they never
heard of the Boy Scouts; and these uniforms make them think we're
connected with the army. Now, we don't want to stir them up any more
than we can help. They're an ugly lot, Bob here says, if you rub the fur
the wrong way. We didn't come down here to bother these moonshiners one
whit; and if they'll only let us alone, we want to keep our hands off
their affairs. Let the fellow dodge after us if he wants to; he'll find
that we're only a bunch of happy-go-lucky boys, off for a holiday."

"Pity we can't meet up with that same old Phin, and tell him as much,"
Smithy went on to say.

"Perhaps it might be managed easy enough," Allan observed, and all of
them immediately turned toward him, feeling that he had some scheme to
communicate.

"Open up, and tell us what it is, Allan," urged the impatient Bumpus.

"Yes, don't keep us guessing any more than you can help," added Step
Hen. "We've sure got enough to worry us, what with the troubles of
Giraffe getting stuck in that quicksand; and Davy here, falling over
every old precipice he can find, without you making us puzzle out a
problem. How could it be done, Allan?"

"Why, we'll send Old Phin a letter," replied the other, calmly.

"Show me your messenger, then!" demanded Bumpus.

Allan picked up a stick, and delib