ed.
"If it was so, Doright would have acted differently. He was very
composed when we saw him and that bluff he put up about this being his
farm showed that he knew where the boys were all the time."

"Then what do you suppose happened to them?" Tom's voice broke.

"I don't know. They're around here somewhere. Of that I'm sure. They are
not far away," Jack stoutly contended.

"What do you think Frank?" was Tom's almost tearful query.

"I think we'd better not make up our minds until we get some better
evidence than a smell or a negro's word. Let's keep digging."

Accordingly the boys vigorously attacked the plan they had in mind of
stirring about through all the ashes in search of a clue to the
whereabouts of their chums. At last a shout from Tom proclaimed a
discovery. His friends rushed to his side.

"Right here by the chimney." Tom broke down. "There it is."

"Now, Tom," half scolded Jack. "Brace up, boy! Suppose it were reversed.
Would you want them to squall over you?"

"I can't help it," the boy answered. "I am not squalling, but I feel
badly to lose a chum like those boys were. So do you, too."

"I sure do," answered Jack poking about Tom's discovery. "I'd feel awful
to lose a good friend even if he was a black sheep."

As Jack spoke he held up on the end of a stick a small tuft of wool
which had adhered to the end of his staff. With it came the odor of
burned flesh again. Jack smilingly pulled Tom's sleeve.

"The boys are safe," he said, exhibiting the wool. "It was a black sheep
that burned. Arnold and Harry are not black sheep."

"Good, oh, goody," cried Tom, capering about. "That's just fine."

In a short time the boys finished their search now fully convinced that
whatever might have happened to Harry and Arnold they were not now in
the ruins of the burned cabin.

"Now let's get Rowdy to help us track the boys to wherever they went,"
suggested Tom. "I'd like to find 'em."

"Good idea," responded Frank. "Let's do that. Here, Rowdy."

"Fine," declared Jack. "Just the thing, if he'll do it."

But the boys were doomed to another disappointment. Rowdy, after being
put on the scent by Tom, circled about a while and then started off in
the direction of the leaning oak. Although the boys tried to drive him
off that trail a number of times, the bulldog persisted in following
that route or none. At last they yielded.

Straight back to the oak went Rowdy. There he stopped and gazed over the
water f