s came from. They don't belong to me, that's
sure."

"Hello! here's a mystery all right," said Bluff, scrambling to his
feet and hurrying over to the other; in which action he was
immediately imitated by the other two.

"Well, I declare that's queer!" burst out Jerry; "a lot of golf balls,
a white sweater, and a pair of rubber-soled shoes! Why, Will, what has
happened?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said the bewildered one, shaking his head
sadly. "Here I pack my films and a few other little things in this new
bag, and start out. Then when I open it, see what I get! Who's been
playing a trick on me, I'd like to know?"

"Wait a minute," interrupted Frank, just when the injured one was
beginning to frown and look suspiciously at Bluff and Jerry; "nobody
here has had a hand in the thing, Will; but I think I know what
happened."

"Then for goodness' sake, Frank, hurry up and tell us!" cried Bluff;
"for Will here is beginning to have awful thoughts, and looks at me as
if he could eat me."

"Yes, please explain the mystery, Frank, if you can," pleaded Will.

"To my mind it's as simple as anything could well be," began the
other, soberly.

"You remember our meeting on the road with the young chap calling
himself Gilbert something or other? Well, I happened to notice that
the bag he carried was as near like your new one as two peas could be.
When he hurried away to catch his train in his excitement he must have
unconsciously picked up the wrong bag!"

"Then this one belongs to him, does it?" asked Jerry.

"Don't you remember," remarked Frank, "his saying something about his
being runner-up in the amateur class of golfers, and that he was going
to a tournament right then, which accounted for his haste?"

Will uttered a deep groan. He was evidently very much dejected over
the unfortunate accident that had befallen him so early in their
outing.

"What tough luck I've struck!" he said, as he stared down at the golf
balls, as useless to him as so many stones. "I do hope that chap won't
be so mad when he finds out what he's done as to destroy my precious
films. What if he went and put a match to them? You know they'd flame
up something fierce, and it'd be good-bye to all my hard work up in
Maine."

"Oh! the chances are small that he'd be so venomous as all that,"
returned Frank, "especially when he must know it was all his own
fault."

"But what do you think he'll do about it?" questioned Bluff.

"If I were Gilbert,