se, but the puzzle was, what would tramps
be doing so far away from all customary sources of supply?

Elmer sniffed the atmosphere, which was both heavy and far from
pleasant. And Lil Artha, who had pressed into the shack, hot upon the
heels of his chief, took note of his significant action.

"I should say yes, it's rank as all get out," he remarked, holding his
nose between a finger and thumb. "Even beats that fishy smell we struck
when we looked down into the cellar at the cottage. Whew!"

Others expressed themselves about as strongly, and little Jasper
Merriweather, who had unwisely pushed into the shack, found it necessary
to hurry out again, white of face and gasping.

But Elmer had conceived an idea, even while suffering from the
unpleasant odor of the place.

"Howling cats!" exclaimed Lil Artha, "I don't see how you can stand it,
Elmer. Talk to me about tramps, and the way they hate water, here's the
rank evidence of it. Wow, ain't I sorry for poor Nat if he's got to
associate with this hobo crowd for long!"

"But how do we know they're hoboes?" asked Elmer, turning on the tall
scout.

"Hey? What's that?" exclaimed Lil Artha, actually so surprised that he
neglected to hold that firm grip on his nose any longer.

"What makes you so sure they're tramps?" pursued the scout master.

"Why, goodness gracious alive, Elmer, you don't mean to say you doubt
that now?" cried the tall boy, sweeping his hand around as though to
draw attention to the various articles that seemed to stamp that theory
a positive fact.

"Seeing these things here is what makes me question that idea very
much," began Elmer; and then he picked up one of the old shoes, to hold
it at arm's length. "Look at that, fellows; never made in this country,
and you know it. Hobnails such as no one but foreigners use on their
shoes."

"Well, I declare; I guess Elmer's right!" exclaimed Red.

"He certainly is, suh, take my word foh it," was the way Chatz expressed
himself.

"Now look here, whoever saw a tramp's nest with anything like this in
it?" and Elmer picked up a string of beads, evidently a rosary, that
must have been overlooked in a hasty flight.

"Whew, that's going some!" ejaculated Phil Dale who, with his cousin
Landy, happened to be in the shack eager to see all that went on.

"Perhaps he can even tell us what brand of foreigners these fellows
are," remarked Landy, who was beginning to look upon Elmer pretty much
in the light of a