ood camp too, mebby," said he finally as
he pointed toward the west.

"I thought I smelled the smoke of a camp fire," said Bruce.

"So did I," added Jiminy.

"I smell heem smoke, I smell heem scraps, too. No good camp, no know
woods. Mebby heem get seek. Come on. We all through now. We find 'em
wood road now soon. Doctair Lyman heem line run cross by that blaze over
tair; you see heem, huh? Heem end of Doctair Lyman's wood."

"So that's the line, eh? Well, twenty-five acres of woods is a lot of
territory, isn't it, Bruce?" said Jimmy, as he picked up his scout
hatchet and slipped into his belt.

The Canadian wrenched his hatchet free from the poplar and started
swinging westward between the trees and the two Quarry Troop scouts fell
in behind him in single file. And as they walked on the smell of the
camp lire, and the tainted odor that emanates from a camp's garbage dump
grew stronger to their nostrils.

Then presently the camp itself loomed up at the very side of the wood
road for which the Canadian lumberman was headed.

A single wall tent of large proportions was the most conspicuous thing
about the place. This had its flaps pinned back and in the doorway,
reclining on a collapsible canvas camp chair with a bandage-swathed foot
propped up on a soap box sat one of the occupants.

The woodsman and the two Quarry Scouts needed only a glance at the little
clearing to know that those who had built it here knew nothing at all
about the woods and were, moreover, very disorderly by nature. Blankets
lay in a confused heap among leaves and twigs instead of being hung up to
dry; empty cans, paste board boxes and scraps of paper littered the
place; fire burned entirely too near a dry brush pile and there was no
stone fireplace to hold it in check; loose papers were scattered about
and to make matters even worse, the pots and pans that had been used to
cook the last meal lay on the ground unwashed.

It was indeed a bungle of a camp but if the single occupant realized it
he did not seem to care a whit for he sat serenely in the doorway of the
tent so interested in a book that he did not hear Paul Nez and his young
companions approaching.

"'Allo, you get heem broke foot, mebby?" said Paul with a grin as he
moved toward the tent.

The camper looked up with a start, and then smiled. "Yes, I twisted my
right ankle yesterday by falling down a gully, and ouch--don't make me
move 'cause it hurts like sin. Glad