ows, then," advised Tom
dryly. "After that you'll be able to eat the whole critter."

"But when are you going to eat?" insisted Hen. "It's noon now."

"We'll eat in another hour, I guess, if that suits the crowd," replied
Dick.

"I'm ready to eat right now," coaxed Dutcher.

"But you don't belong to the crowd," retorted Dave Darrin grimly.
"Unless you want to put up with bread you'll have to wait until the
crowd is ready."

"Potatoes will be the first thing ready for dinner, Hen," observed
Prescott mildly. "As you're not doing anything outdoors, you might get
busy peeling a big pan of potatoes."

"See here," flared Dutcher, "I told you before that I'm no servant,
and----"

But Dick had risen, for the clock informed him that it was time to
relieve the shift out in the deep snow.

"Suit yourself, Hen," replied Prescott. "If you don't peel the
potatoes, and some one else has to do it, then you won't eat any hot
dinner to-day. That's flat."

"Isn't Dick Prescott just a mean bully?" growled Hen to himself, as the
"relief" stepped outdoors to resume work.

"See that Hen keeps busy peeling and washing potatoes," Dick advised
Greg in passing.

Then the three rested shovelers took up the task. The path was now
approaching the cook shack at the rear of the cabin.

"Queer, isn't it," inquired Dave, "that we don't see a blessed thing of
Mr. Fits to-day, and that there's no smoke going up his chimney."

"Perhaps he has left these parts," suggested Tom, rather hopefully.

"How could he?" Dave wanted to know.

"Maybe he went last night."

"I doubt if he could get away, even last night, at the hour when we
turned him adrift," Darrin contended. "A man might have gone a quarter
of a mile, but he couldn't go a whole mile."

"He hasn't been out to-day, at any rate," declared Dick. "There isn't a
trace of a track anywhere near the shack."

"Let's dig up to that window and look in," suggested Dave.

This was done. A few minutes later the three boys stood at the window,
glancing in at all they could see of the small interior. Beyond the
stove and chairs there appeared to be nothing to see.

"Well, our dear friend Fits isn't on the premises--that's certain,"
remarked Dave Darrin.

Which conclusion might be true, or, again, might not.

CHAPTER XIII

A VISITOR BY THE AIR ROUTE

When the boys awoke next morning the fire was still burning, though
there was not enough of it left to prevent a thin layer of ice