er, and contained a door and a shuttered window. Deer and
bear robes covered the floor. Here rested two canvas canoes, and there
lay a light cedar skiff.

Two lads stood by the fire. One, about eighteen, was tall and well knit,
with dark hair and a swarthy, honest face. The other was shorter and
thicker, and possibly a year younger.

"Hullo!" exclaimed Brick, as he pulled himself to a sitting position.

The strangers hastened to his side.

"How do you feel?" asked the elder lad. "I was just going for a doctor."

"I'll be all right pretty soon," replied Brick. "I've got a thumping
headache, though."

"And no wonder, with a bruise like that over your eye. Do you remember
what happened?"

"Yes," answered Brick, "up to a certain point. But how did I get here?"

"We heard the racket, and ran out with our guns and a lantern. We saw a
man jump from a boat down near the water. We chased him a short
distance, and he fired at us twice. We found you lying on the bottom
with an ugly bruise on your forehead, and between us we got you up
here."

"You certainly saved my life," declared Brick, gratefully, "and you
saved something else, too. This is what the ruffian was after. You
scared him off before he could find it."

He unbuttoned his jacket, and drew out the pocketbook. Then, in a few
words, he related the whole adventure to his new friends.

"I'm lucky to escape with a bruise and the loss of my overcoat," he
concluded. "It would have been ten times worse but for you fellows."

"Here is your coat," said the younger lad. "We stumbled over it when we
were chasing the rascal. Were there any valuables in it?"

"Only a couple of letters from my father," replied Brick, as he went
through the pockets of the garment. "By Jove! they're gone, though. The
thief will find he's made a valuable haul."

Brick spoke in jest. He little dreamed what use would be made of the
stolen letters, or what a harvest of trouble he was destined to reap
from their loss.

"I'm feeling considerably better now," he added. "I'm glad of it, for
I'll have to be moving soon. It's getting late, and---- Hullo!
something just struck me. I believe you're the very chaps I'm looking
for. This is a queer go."

The lads exchanged puzzled glances. Possibly they thought that the blow
had deranged Brick's mind.

"I'll bet anything your names are Jerry Brenton and Hamp Foster, and
this is the dug-out in the bluff," resumed Brick. "Am I right?"

The boys no