o of them in fact.

The talk as they ate their mid-day meal was along the subject of deer
hunting, and Tom as well as Josh had to tell all about it, as far as
they knew.

Stanley declared he had made good use of his camera, and hoped the
results would come up to expectations. All of them united in saying
that it had been an adventure worth while; and apparently their
sympathies were wholly with the gallant buck, for they expressed a
fervent hope that he would succeed in outrunning his canine enemies.

Somehow in the course of the conversation mention was made of Tony
Pollock and his crowd.

"I heard Tony tell a story of having seen a deer pulled down somewhere
in the forest last fall by a pack of ugly dogs," related George Cooper.
"At the time I believed he was only yarning, though he vowed black and
blue it was so. He said the dogs looked and acted so ugly that he
thought it best to clear out before they turned on him."

"Like as not this same pack," remarked Tom. "They say that once a dog
has taken to that savage sort of life nothing can ever coax him to go
back to living with mankind again. It's in the blood, that call of the
wild."

"Well," chuckled Josh, "we know of another kind of call of the wild
that's going to be heard in the land pretty soon, when Farmer Sile
Perkins faces Tony. He will demand double pay for the chickens Tony and
his crowd stole, on penalty of his being arrested if he doesn't whack
up. Oh I can just see Tony begin to crawl then; and I wonder how he'll
get the money."

Carl was saying little or nothing, and Tom knew why. Here they had been
on the hike several days, and as yet there had arisen not a single
chance for him to get in touch with Dock Phillips.

Tom understood that another spell of dark foreboding was beginning to
enfold his chum. At the first opportunity he could find, Tom joined
Carl. The latter had thrown himself down on the bank some distance away
from the camp, where he could be in the shade, and yet look out on the
sunlit water, which just then had a most attractive aspect.

"You're worrying again because nothing has happened as we hoped would
be the case, eh, Carl?" was what the patrol leader said as he dropped
down close to the moody scout.

Carl sighed heavily.

"Perhaps it's foolish of me, Tom," he said, with a curious little break
in his voice, which he tried hard to master; "but once in so often it
seems as if something gripped me, and made me shiver. It's w