Up to the present Thorpe had enjoyed a clear field. Now two men came down from above and established a temporary camp in the woods half a mile below the dam. Thorpe soon satisfied himself that they were picking out a route for the logging road. Plenty which could be cut and travoyed directly to the banking ground lay exactly along the bank of the stream; but every logger possessed of a tract of timber tries each year to get in some that is easy to handle and some that is difficult. Thus the average of expense is maintained. The two men, of course, did not bother themselves with the timber to be travoyed, but gave their entire attention to that lying further back. Thorpe was enabled thus to avoid them entirely. He simply transferred his estimating to the forest by the stream. Once he met one of the men; but was fortunately in a country that lent itself to his pose of hunter. The other he did not see at all. But one day he heard him. The two up-river men were following carefully but noisily the bed of a little creek. Thorpe happened to be on the side-hill, so he seated himself quietly until they should have moved on down. One of the men shouted to the other, who, crashing through a thicket, did not hear. “Ho-o-o! DYER!” the first repeated. “Here's that infernal comer; over here!” “Yop!” assented the other. “Coming!” Thorpe recognized the voice instantly as that of Radway's scaler. His hand crisped in a gesture of disgust. The man had always been obnoxious to him. Two days later he stumbled on their camp. He paused in wonder at what he saw. The packs lay open, their contents scattered in every direction. The fire had been hastily extinguished with a bucket of water, and a frying pan lay where it had been overturned. If the thing had been possible, Thorpe would have guessed at a hasty and unpremeditated flight. He was about to withdraw carefully lest he be discovered, when he was startled by a touch on his elbow. It was Injin Charley. “Dey go up river,” he said. “I come see what de row.” The Indian examined rapidly the condition of the little camp. “Dey look for somethin',” said he, making his hand revolve as though rummaging, and indicating the packs. “I t'ink dey see you in de woods,” he concluded. “Dey go camp gettum boss. Boss he gone on river trail two t'ree hour.” “You're right, Charley,” replied Thorpe, who had been drawing his own conclusions. “One of them knows me. They've been looking in their packs for their note-books with the descriptions of these sections in them. Then they piled out for the boss. If I know anything at all, the boss'll make tracks for Detroit.” “W'ot you do?” asked Injin Charley curiously. “I got to get to Detroit before they do; that's all.” Instantly the Indian became all action. “You come,” he ordered, and set out at a rapid pace for camp.