“That’s so,” agreed Professor Skeel, readily understanding what was meant. “Detectives!” exclaimed Whalen. “Did you say detectives? “But--er--I--they--I don’t want to see any detectives,” stammered the former employee of Elmwood Hall. “I don’t either,” chuckled Murker. “But it’s best to be on the safe side, and to prepare for emergencies. So what you and the professor don’t know, you can’t tell. Leave the details to me, and I’ll fix ’em. Now I think we’ve been here long enough. We know what we came over to this cabin to find out--that they hadn’t been here before until just now. And we’re pretty certain they’ll go next--to No. 3 Camp.” “What makes you think so?” asked Whalen. “Because boys are like deer at times--mighty curious. They won’t rest satisfied until they’ve tried all three camps. They’ll go over to the last one in a few days, and then, Skeel, we may have Tom Fairfield just where we want him!” “I hope so!” was the fervent exclamation, as the three plotters made their way off through the dense woods. CHAPTER XII A LUCKY SHOT “Well, we’re not going to stay in all the rest of the day, are we?” asked Jack Fitch, pushing back his chair from the table. “I should say not!” exclaimed Bert. “There’s plenty of time yet to go out and bag a deer or two.” “Nothing small about you,” chuckled Tom, as he looked to his ammunition. “But I agree that there’s no use wasting time indoors. It does look like a storm, so we won’t go too far away from the cabin.” “Are we going to stay here to-night?” asked George. “Sure,” remarked Tom. “It’s too far to tramp back to No. 1 Camp. This is just as well stocked up, and as there are plenty of bedclothes here, and lots of wood, we don’t care how cold it gets outside.” They had finished their meal, and it was now early in the afternoon. It would soon be dark, however, for in December the days are very short. But, as Jack had said, the few remaining hours of daylight need not be wasted, and as yet the boys had not bagged any big game. “It’s too dark for photographs,” suggested George, as he saw Bert getting out his camera. “Not if I make a few as soon as I get out,” was the answer. “I want to get some views around this camp.” A close search through the cabin had not revealed that Skeel and his companions had entered. The boys felt sure it was those men who had made the tracks in the snow about the little building. But, if they had entered, nothing had been unduly disturbed. “I wish I knew what their game was,” spoke Jack, as he shouldered his gun and followed Tom and the others outside. “It _is_ sort of a puzzle,” our hero agreed. “We’ll have to take a walk over to Hounson’s some day this week, and see what we can learn. If those fellows think they can trespass all over these camps it’s time we told Sam Wilson. He’ll send them flying, I’ll wager!” “That’s right!” declared Bert.