“How would it do for us to root around a bit while we have the time?” ventured Monkey Stallings, who liked to investigate better than anything else, except in an old mansion where the dust of years had settled, and there were uncanny things to be run across.

“If you mean,” Hugh told him, “we might move around some, and look for that place where we want to make our camp for the rest of our stay up here, I’d say it was a good idea.”

“Of course,” supplemented Arthur, “we could move back to the castle late this afternoon if the weather turned out bad, and a storm threatened, which, according to all the known signs, isn’t going to be the case.”

“Glad to hear you say that, old weather bureau prophet,” laughed Alec; for the scout who had just made that bold assertion had long been looked up to as an authority on the subject of changes of the weather, and could reel off a dozen reasons for the prediction he was making, all founded on a good sensible basis.

Accordingly they all started forth, having deposited most of their belongings in a good hiding-place where they would be perfectly safe.  Since there had been no attempt to clean up the grounds surrounding the wonderful “castle” after its abandonment, Some ten years or so before, of necessity they had gone back to their original, wild condition.  Nature always seeks to hide the cruel gashes made by the hands of man, covering the wound with all manner of growth from trailing vines to young saplings, brush and weeds.

Passing through a dense wilderness of this newer growth, the scouts pushed on into the heavier woods.  Here they found things much more to their way of looking at it.  Indeed, with the stately forest trees rising up all around them, and shutting out that queer building on the point of land overlooking the broad valley beyond, it seemed an ideal spot for making a camp.

They were not long in deciding on where they would stay, and two of the fellows, Alec and Monkey Stallings, were dispatched back to carry their personal belongings to the new site.  Alec was anxious to get to work developing some of the rolls of films he had taken, in the expectation of making good any failures.

By ten o’clock everything had been gathered in the new camp, which was situated not much more than a quarter of a mile away from the deserted mansion.  The boys believed they could already call their mission a success; and after Alec had been heard from in connection with his photographic work, this would be set down as a certainty.

“Listen!” called out Monkey Stallings about this time, for he happened to have remarkable hearing.  “Seemed to me that was some one talking over yonder.”

“Mebbe the tramps have come back after all,” exclaimed Billy looking startled.  “You know they always say a bad penny is sure to turn up again.”

“Better look for some good handy clubs, I say,” observed Alec, pouncing on just such a stout stick as he had in his mind’s eye when speaking.