tle boy, as he put his finger gently on
the sharp point. "Indians use spears to catch fish. Are you going to do
that, Bunker?"

Bunker shook his head.

"You haven't guessed yet," he said.

"Oh, tell us!" begged Sue. "Is it a secret?"

"Sort of," said Bunker.

"Oh, how nice!" cried Sue. "I just love to guess secrets! Let me have a
turn, Bunny."

The two children sat down in the shade near the tent. Bunker kept on
making sharp-pointed sticks with his knife. Over in the dining-tent Tom
Vine was setting the dinner table. This was some days after the cross
man had come to the camp and had gone away. He had not come back since.

"Well, what is your guess, Sue?" asked Bunker, as he kept on making the
sharp-pointed sticks.

"Let me see," pondered the little girl. "Oh! I know what they are for.
You're going to put some other pieces of wood on the end of these
sticks, Bunker, and make croquet mallets of them so we can have a game!"

"Is that it?" asked Bunny. "Is it for croquet?"

"No, that isn't what they're for," answered Bunker, smiling.

"Anyhow," went on Bunny Brown, "we couldn't play croquet in the woods
here, 'cause we haven't any croquet balls."

"Oh, we might use round stones, mightn't we, Bunker?" Sue asked.

"Yes, we might," replied Bunker slowly, as he laid down one
sharp-pointed stick and began whittling another. "We might, but that
isn't the secret."

"Now, it's my turn to guess!" said Bunny. "You had a turn, Sue."

"Well, what do you say it is?" asked Bunker. "Go on, Bunny."

Bunny thought for about half a minute.

"Are you going to make a trap to catch something?" the little boy asked.
Ever since he had come to Camp Rest-a-While he had begged Bunker to
make a trap to catch a fox, or a squirrel, or something like that. Bunny
did not want to hurt the wild animals, but he thought he would like to
catch one in a trap, and try to tame it.

"No, I'm not making a trap," answered Bunker. "I don't believe you
children could guess what these sticks are for if you tried all day.
And, as it isn't my secret, I don't believe I'd better tell you. You go
and ask your mother--it's mostly her secret--and if she wants to tell
you--why, all right."

"Oh, we'll go and ask mother!" cried Bunny. "Come on, Sue!"

The two children found Mrs. Brown in the cooking-tent, getting dinner
ready.

"What's the secret?" cried Sue.

"What is Bunker making all the sharp-pointed sticks for?" Bunny wanted
to know.

Their