he law is on moose and caribou,
and that there won't be an open season for at least five more years?"

"Yes," said the stranger, laconically. "I just wanted to see whether you
boys knew that."

Garry was inclined to be angry at the man's answer, but as Fernald made
the remark with a smile, Garry felt that they could not take offence at
him.

Dick broke into the conversation with a query as to whether the stranger
knew anything about the town of Hobart. Too late, Garry gave him a
warning kick, but the danger was done. Fernald looked intently at Dick,
and then at the other two.

"Why, yes," he remarked, "I know considerable about the town. It is only
two or three weeks since I have been there. Anything in particular that
you want to know about it?"

"Not especially," answered Dick, who was on guard now that Garry had
warned him. "We just happened to hear a friend of ours, a guide named
Webster, saying that it was not very far above the National Forest
Reserve."

"You aren't, by any chance, speaking of Nate Webster of Millinocket are
you?" he inquired with a smile.

Here Garry broke in the conversation.

"Do you know Webster?"

"I should say I do," said Fernald. "I have known him for a good many
years. It may surprise you to know and hear," he turned to Garry, "that
I know your father, 'Moose' Boone."

This, for a moment, seemed to free the man of suspicion, although, as
Garry told himself, the man had not said or done anything to warrant
their being suspicious of him. Garry was simply following the wise rule
not to tell any more about yourself than the other person does to you.

They chatted for some time about many things concerning the woods, and
while the boys were careful not to mention anything that would give the
man who called himself Fernald any inkling as to their mission, they
could not help notice but that he was trying very hard to pump them as
to their reason for going to the particular part of Maine for which they
were bound. By this time, it was nearly noon and Fernald volunteered the
information that there was a restaurant in the station of a little town
where they would make their next stop, and at which the train would stop
long enough to allow them to get their lunch. Just before the train drew
into the station, Fernald remarked in a bantering tone, "I suppose you
fellows know there is considerable smuggling going on all the time,
across the International line."

Garry looked up quickly,