"Well, I should say so," the other admitted, "and during the night both Toby and myself were awakened by just the same sort of far-off dull roaring sound." "I must have been sound asleep then, because I never caught it," acknowledged the other, frankly; "but if you two boys talked it over, what conclusion did you arrive at, may I ask?" "We were undecided," said Jack, warily. "We sort of inclined to the opinion that either a railroad was being cut through the hills over to the north, or else there might be some sort of mining or quarrying being carried on there. I told Toby that while it was an unknown quantity to us now, the chances were in our scouting around while camping here for two weeks or more, we stood to learn just what caused that queer booming sound." "There's Toby whistling, as sure as anything," announced Steve. "I figure from his merry tone that he's met with a decent bunch of luck. Yes, there he comes, swinging through the woods, and actually following the trail he made in going out. Good boy, Toby, he's all right." "And it's fish for supper in the bargain," asserted Jack, "for you can see he's carrying quite a neat string of the finny beauties. There, he holds it up so you can get your mouth ready for a feast." As the fisherman came closer, Jack saw that he was looking a bit serious for a fellow who had been so successful in his first fishing trip to the river. "Something happened, I calculate, eh, Toby?" demanded Steve, also reading the signs. "Well, yes, I've got a story to tell that _may_ interest you both," admitted Toby with an important air. CHAPTER V TOBY'S ADVENTURE "Now that's what I get for staying home when I had a chance to go along with you, Toby, old scout," grumbled Steve. "Just my luck to be left out of the running. Hang the sore heel, I say!" "Come over to the log and sit down, Toby," tempted Jack; "you must be a little tired after your long walk, and all the work of catching such a bunch of fighters. It seems after all that the gamiest bass frequent the upper reaches of Paradise River. And none of the fellows in Chester cared to go that far when the fishing near home was always pretty good." So Toby was escorted to the sitting log with one chum on either side. He would not have been a natural boy if he did not feel his importance just then, with two fellows eager to hear his story. "Now pitch in and tell us what really did happen," begged Steve; "for of course by now you've got us all excited, and guessing a dozen things in the bargain." "Well, I didn't have a bit of trouble finding the river," began Toby, just as though he felt he should conduct them gradually along until the climax came, as good story-tellers do, he understood. "All I had to do was to follow my nose, and keep going ahead into the west.