"Yes. To do that and find Mr. Nestor," said Tom. "We have plenty of
work ahead of us. But let's get nearer civilization and send some word
to the folks at home. They'll be getting worried."

"It doesn't seem as if there was a way out of here without using an
airship," remarked Jackson.

But he and Tom finally reached the seldom-used road which ran along the
field that contained the lonely shack, and, following this, they
reached a farmhouse about a mile farther on. Greatly to their relief,
there was a telephone in the place. True it was only a party line, set
up by some neighboring farmers for their own private use, but one of
the subscribers, to whose home the private line ran, had a long
distance instrument, and after a talk with him, this man promised Tom
to call up Mr. Swift and acquaint him with the fact that his son and
Jackson were all right, and would be home later.

"And now," said Tom, after thanking their temporary host, a farmer
named Bloise, "can you tell us anything about an old cabin that stands
back there?" and he indicated the location of the mysterious shack.

"Well, yes, I can tell you a little about it, but not very much," said
Mr. Bloise. "It was built, some years ago, by a rich New Yorker, who
bought up a lot of land around here for a game preserve. But it didn't
pan out. This cabin was only the start of what he was going to call a
'hunting lodge,' I believe it was. There was to be a big building on
the same order, but it never was built.

"Some say the fellow lost all his money in Wall Street, and others say
the state wouldn't let him make a game preserve here. However it was,
the thing petered out, and the old shack hasn't been used since."

"Oh, yes, it has!" exclaimed Tom. "We just came from there, and there
are signs which show some one has been sleeping there and eating there."

"There has!" exclaimed the farmer. "Well, I didn't know that."

"I did," said his son, a young man about Tom's age. "I meant to speak
of it the other day. I saw an automobile turn into the old road that
the men used when they built the shack. I thought it was kind of queer
to see a touring car turn in there, and I meant to speak of it, but I
forgot. Yes, some one has been at the old cabin lately."

"Do you know who they are?" asked Tom eagerly. "We are looking for a
Mr. Nestor, who disappeared mysteriously about two weeks ago, and I
just found his wallet there in the shack!"

"You did!" exclaimed Mr. Blois