“Timber thieves!” said Charley in a low voice.  His cheeks paled a trifle.  Then a look of determination came into his eyes.

“What shall we do?” asked Lew in a loud whisper.

“I don’t know,” replied Charley.  “But we’ll find out what they are doing.  Then we can decide what to do ourselves.”

He drew his automatic but as quickly thrust it into his coat pocket, as he remembered what the ranger had told him.  But though the pistol was in his pocket, he still grasped it in his hand.  The tense look on his face showed plainly enough that he was ready to shoot right through his coat.  Lew, observing his companion’s movements, followed his example.

Minute after minute the two young forest guards stood silent, listening for the sound of axes or other customary noises that ordinarily accompany lumbering operations.  But the morning stillness was undisturbed.  A puzzled expression crept over their faces.

“Maybe that tree wasn’t cut at all,” whispered Lew.  “Maybe it just fell of itself.”

“We’ll find out,” replied Charley, and cautiously they began to make their way toward the point whence the sound had come.  Sheltering themselves behind trees, they advanced rod after rod.  The stillness remained unbroken.  The stand of trees grew thinner, with more and more underbrush.  Presently they saw before them an unmistakable clearing in the forest.  Rapidly they advanced, screened by the bushes, until they stood close to the edge of the clearing.  Beyond question somebody had been cutting trees.  Over a considerable area the timber had been felled, and whoever had felled it had cut ruthlessly.  Hardly a sapling remained in all the cleared area.  On every hand trees lay prone.  Some had been trimmed and cut into pieces.  Some remained exactly as they fell.  Everywhere freshly cut stumps told plainly enough what had occurred.

“Somebody’s cutting timber all right enough,” whispered Charley, “and it’s on state land.  I wonder where they are.  They certainly cut that tree we heard fall, but I haven’t heard an axe or a human voice and I don’t see any signs of lumbermen.”

“Maybe they’re at camp eating breakfast.  It’s still early, you know.”

“If they are,” said Charley, “then this is the very time to investigate.  We’ll look around before anybody gets back.”

Glancing once more about the opening to make sure that nobody was in sight, they stepped from behind their concealing bushes and started across the open space.  But immediately they came to a dead stop.  Like rifle-shots, a succession of sharp sounds rang out, accompanied by splashing noises.  The two boys were at first alarmed, then puzzled.  They looked at each other in amazement.

“What was that?” asked Lew.

“I don’t know,” replied Charley.  “At first I thought somebody was shooting at us.  But I didn’t hear any bullets hum.  And the noise didn’t sound exactly like a gun, either.  It was like the noise a fellow makes when he hits the water real hard with a board.”