llowed the Italian amid the trees. Then there appeared
the light of an opening, and going forward more carefully, Jack found
himself on the edge of the quarry clearing. The foreigner was hurrying
along the brink of the excavation, evidently heading for a small
tumble-down cabin at its farther end.

The man reached the shanty, and knocked. To Jack's surprise the door was
opened by a negro.

Wonder at this was quickly forgotten, however, for as the door closed
from the woods behind Jack came the sound of voices, then an ejaculation
in Italian. A moment Jack stood, in consternation, believing he had been
seen. But a glance showed that the owners of the voices were yet out of
sight beyond a rise, and recalling his wits, Jack ran for a nearby clump
of elders.

The voices came quickly nearer. Suddenly then, for the first time Jack
recalled the camera. At once came the suggestion to get a snap of the
newcomers as they stepped into the clearing.

Jack glanced about him. A short distance away, and but a few feet from
the path, was a low, tent-like spruce. With instant decision he made for
it, drawing the camera from his pocket as he ran.

Dropping to his knees, he wormed his way beneath the tree, and through to
the opposite side. Finding an aperture commanding the exit of the path,
he opened and focused the camera upon it. The next moment the two
Italians appeared. For the fraction of a second Jack hesitated, fearing
the click of the shutter might betray him. But he took the chance, there
was a crisp, low click--and he had them, and they had passed on.

Chuckling with delight, Jack crept forth. What next? Looking toward the
shanty, he again saw the door opened by the negro. This decided him.
Replacing the camera in his pocket, he set off on a circuit through the
trees that would bring him back to the clearing immediately opposite the
shanty, determined if possible to reach it, and learn what was going on
inside.

Without incident he made the point desired, and gazing from the cover of
a bush, discovered with satisfaction that the two hundred yards
separating him from his goal was dotted with small bushy spruce. More
important still, on that side of the cabin were no windows.

Stooping, Jack was about to steal forth, when he paused with a new idea.
It came from a stray piece of wrapping-paper lying on the ground before
him.

Why couldn't he conceal the camera in this paper, with a string tied to
the shutter; approach t