Now there is in the sound of an axe, when heard in timberland, something strangely cheerful and enlivening, especially if the hour be early morning and the sun is in the sky. In a subtle way it seems suggestive of that mysterious time in the practically unknown Dark Ages when man, newly awakened to the knowledge of his superiority over all other animals, came forth from his black cave and built himself a house of wood. There is a joy, too, in the wielding of an axe by strong hands, in swinging it lightly and deftly and driving the blade home, and in the thrill of the yielding shock which passes with each blow from the handle to the fingers that grip it. And as a healthy, strength building, body invigorating exercise, the use of an axe in the open air makes tame by comparison the swinging of Indian clubs, tossing of dumb-bells or yanking at chest weights. As a tonic and a builder of strength and vigor, no doctor’s prescription can equal the use of the axe. Gray smoke, rising from the point, told that a fire had been started, and near this fire, feeding it, sat Sleuth Piper. Crane appeared with an armful of wood, which he cast upon the ground. Then, perceiving the returning boys, he glowered upon them reproachfully. “Think yeou’re smart, don’t ye?” he cried. “Think yeou’re smart, sneakin’ off without wakin’ a feller up. Well, what’d ye ketch?” Sleuth, putting another stick on the fire, did not deign to look around. “Nothing dud-doing,” confessed Springer, coming up and dropping the empty basket. “I’m afraid grim starvation stares us in the optic. And Piper is to blame for it.” Still Sleuth did not turn. “Piper is to blame for it,” repeated Phil, with pretended condemnation. “Even in the tributaries of this lake, the streams which flow into it, the fish have heard of his arrival and——” At last Piper turned. “Oh, go off somewhere by yourself and lie down,” he snarled. “You make me sick!” “Dud-dear me!” grinned Phil. “The great detective, the bold pioneer, the marvelous angler, is extremely touchy this morning.” “Joshing before breakfast sometimes produces unpleasant feelings,” laughed Grant. “We’ll all feel better, I opine, after we eat.” “And, fortunately,” said Stone, “there’s a good supply in the larder.” “You fellers didn’t have no luck at all, did ye?” chuckled Crane, evidently finding some satisfaction in this. “Up to date I’m the top-notch fisherman, and yeou’ll have to go some to beat me.” “Oh, but we sure did have fun,” returned Rodney. “You bet,” eagerly agreed Phil; “regular circus. Wait till I tut-tell you about it.” Stuttering somewhat more than usual in his eagerness, he related the amusing story of the encounter with the Simpsons, and his ludicrous description of the elder man’s plunge into the pool caused even Sleuth to crack a smile. They were still laughing over this affair when, to their great surprise, Carl Duckelstein appeared upon the scene.