The three entered the tent, where Lew had hung the lighted candle lantern,
and in the growing darkness ate their meal.

"It seems to me," suggested Lew, "that it would be best to leave the camp
right where it is. If we move it, that will indicate that we know its
location has been discovered. If we let it remain where it is, these men
won't know whether we are aware if their visit here or not."

"You've a good head on you, young man," said the ranger approvingly.
"That's exactly the thing to do. Besides, if we moved it and Bill Collins
wanted to find it, he'd stick right to the job until he succeeded. But I
don't believe he has any interest in watching this camp or in staying in
this forest. It isn't a healthful place for him and he knows it. You see,
Bill and I are old acquaintances. It's my opinion that he came in here for
some particular purpose and that he'll get right out the instant that
purpose is accomplished. Those men didn't have any packs, did they?"

"Not a sign of a pack," replied Charley. "Their coat pockets bulged out
as though they had sandwiches or something in them, but they hadn't a
thing in their hands or on their backs except fishing-rods and creels."

"That settles it," said the ranger. "They can't stay here more than
forty-eight hours at the most. And there's no danger of their telling
anybody else about your camp because they won't want anybody to know they
were here. We'll just consider the camp situation settled."

They finished their supper and had begun clear up the dishes when suddenly
Charley thought of the fire-clay. "Oh! I have something to show you," he
cried, and went to the corner of the tent to get the clay ball. It was
just where Charley had left it, but the instant he picked it up he was