k, in advance, pushed
his way inside.

"Well of all the boobies, what do you think of us?" demanded young
Prescott, in deep disgust.

"We wouldn't take any blue ribbons at a brains' show--that's certain,"
affirmed Tom Reade.

The cook shack went up to a pitched roof. Up under the roof some
brackets had been made fast to the rafters. These brackets held a
quantity of rough boards that looked as though they had been stored up
there, years ago, to season indoors. Now, a rope hung down from this
artificial garret.

"Let's see what we can find up there," suggested Dick. Taking hold of
the rope, after shedding his overcoat, Prescott ascended, hand over
hand.

"This is where Fitsey stayed daytimes," Dick called down. "And it's not
a bad place, either. Here are two fur robes."

Dick tumbled them down below, followed by four pairs of warm blankets.

"It's all stolen stuff, I'll wager," Tom called.

"Likely enough," agreed Dick.

"See if you can find a lot of gold and gems up there," proposed Greg
Holmes.

"Nothing in that line. But stand below, two of you, and catch."

Dick began to toss down canned goods, sealed paper cartons of crackers,
canned fruits and the like.

"And to think that Fitsey took some of our poor food, when he had a
grocery store like that up aloft!" complained Harry Hazelton.

"Well, he didn't want us to suspect what he had hidden away around the
premises," Dick answered.

"Anything more up there?" called Dave.

"Nothing but one Grammar School boy," Dick announced, showing himself at
the edge of the simple loft. "I'm coming down. Each of you climb up
here, in turn, and see what a bully hiding place our old college chum
had."

One after another the boys inspected the place. It was small, but every
inch had been made to count by the late occupant.

"Fitsey pulled the rope up after him, and stayed here sleeping mostly in
the daytime," Tom called down, when aloft. "Say, fellows, after this,
when we're on the trail of a mystery, we want to look on the other side
of anything as big as a lumber pile."

Blankets, fur robes and food were transferred to the log cabin.

"But just how much better are we than thieves?" Greg suddenly asked.
"We've just been taking things that didn't belong to us."

For a moment or two that was a poser, for every member of Dick & Co.
tried, always, to be as open and honest as the day itself.

"Oh, well," grunted Dick at last, "we haven't been robbing Mr. Fits, fo