browned trout was a dish that appealed to the appetites of these boys tremendously, and right now Thad was keeping Allan on the lookout for a tempting spot, where it seemed likely they might gather in a mess of the speckled beauties.

All at once Bumpus was seen to half rise from his seat in the bottom of the canoe in which he had a place. Thad noticed that the fat boy seemed strangely moved, as though distressed over something.

“What ails you, Bumpus?” he asked. “I hope you don’t feel the effect of your bath. This sun has been fairly warm, and by now you ought to be feeling all right, especially after doing your share of paddling for an hour or so.”

“’Tain’t that,” said Bumpus, weakly; “but I guess I ought to turn around, and go back, fellers.”

“Sure,” cried Step Hen, “go right over the end of the canoe; the walking on the water is fine, Bumpus.”

But Thad saw that the other was really distressed about something that had suddenly come into his mind.

“Why should you go back, Bumpus, when you know well enough it’s out of the question?” he demanded. “Have you forgotten something? Thought we left all that to Step Hen here, who’s forever losing his possessions?”

“That’s right, I did forget, Thad,” replied the other, with a forlorn look on his face, that would have made the scoutmaster laugh, only that he realized Bumpus was suffering mentally.

“Forget what, Bumpus?” asked Giraffe.

“I’ll tell you, fellers,” continued the fat boy, with a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his heart. “Just before I started off on this glorious trip with you my father handed me a letter which he said he wanted me to take right away to Mr. Harriman, the cashier of the Cranford Bank, as it was very important that he should have it before noon that day. I was just trying to remember whether I did go there and give it to him or not; and d’ye know, for the life of me I just can’t make sure of it.”

“That’s funny!” exclaimed Giraffe. “Ain’t you able to recollect seeing the gentleman, or anything he said to you?”

The other shook his head sadly.

“That’s the queer part of it,” he declared. “Sometimes it comes to me that I must have done it, and I think I see it all plain before me. Then it gets mixed, and I’m not so sure. You see, here’s what bothers me. That same morning I met a friend who was going about ten miles off in his dad’s machine, and he asked me to have a spin with him. Just couldn’t resist, boys, and we did go licketty-split. I’m telling you right now.”

“I saw you go past our house, riding for fair,” remarked Step Hen.

“Tell us the rest, Bumpus; what had that ride in a car to do with the important letter your father gave you to be delivered at the bank?” asked Davy Jones.

“A heap, I’m afraid,” answered the other, making a wry face. “I can just remember that my coat managed to break loose, and was flapping in the wind before I was able to grab it shut, and button it again. And fellers, I had a glimpse of something white, like a letter, that had slipped out of my pocket, and was carried over the fence into Brainard’s woods!”

“Wow! and again, wow!” exclaimed Giraffe, that being his favorite way of expressing surprise and interest in anything.

“I thought at the time that it must be only a scrap of waste paper I happened to be carrying in my pocket; but fellers, it just broke in on me a little while back that it might have been that very important letter I was to give to Mr. Harriman at the bank!”

“Oh! the chances are ten to one it wasn’t, Bumpus,” said Thad, who saw that the scout was really dreadfully worried, and in a fair way to have his whole vacation trip to the woods spoiled by over anxiety.

“Perhaps you’re right, Thad, and it’s kind of you to bolster up my hopes like you do; but then, there is one chance, you see, that I lost that document; and I’m wondering right now what it could be. Oh! what if it was so important that my folks would suffer because I lost it? Think how I’d feel if I came home after having the time of my life up here, and found all the household stuff out on the street, and the red flag of an auctioneer telling people that the Stedman place was for sale? Whew! it makes me feel chilly all over just to think of what I may have done. Then I just say to myself that of course you delivered that letter Bumpus Stedman; you couldn’t be so wrapped up in getting ready for the start on this jaunt as to just forget all about it. And now, it’s too late to go back, and I’ve just got to worry and worry until I lose pounds every day. And perhaps, when we go back, I’ll be a living skeleton, like Giraffe here. Oh! that’s the worst of it. Better learn to quit callin’ me Bumpus, fellers, because right soon it won’t fit at all.”

“Cheer up!” said Thad, “and sooner or later you’re sure to remember something that Mr. Harriman said or did, when you handed him the letter;” but poor Bumpus only shook his head sadly, and sighed again.

CHAPTER III.
A STRANGE DISCOVERY.

“How about this for a camp site, Thad?” asked Allan, half an hour later.

“Looks fishy around here, for a fact,” remarked Step Hen, just as if he knew all about such things; when, truth to tell, he had a lot to learn before he could call himself much of a woodsman.

“Wonder if there’s any chance of finding that bee tree you said you was goin’ to show me some time, when we got up in Maine?” spoke up Bumpus; who had managed for the time being to put his troubles out of his mind; for Thad assured him that after sleeping over it, most likely he would remember some little incident connected with his entering the bank on that last morning in Cranford, and which would prove to his satisfaction that he must have delivered the letter there.

“Well,” said Allan, the Maine boy, “it’s pretty late in the season to talk about bee trees, for I doubt if we’ll find any of the little buzzers flying; and it’s really necessary to have that happen in order to locate the hive; but I’m going to keep my eye open all the time, Bumpus, and try and accommodate you.”

“But just think of gettin’ whole heaps of rich ripe honey!” ejaculated Giraffe, who dearly loved eating; “say, wouldn’t we have flapjacks every morning then, boys, with honey to smear over them an inch thick? Um! um! take me to that bee tree as soon as you locate it, Allan, and give me an axe. I promise to cut her down, remember that.”

“And I hope to hold you to that promise, Giraffe,” returned the assistant patrol leader. “But what d’ye say, Thad, shall we stop here?”

“What do the guides say; how about it, Sebattis, Eli, Jim; will we be apt to pick up a mess of trout here, do you think?” and Thad turned to the bronzed Maine men, who nodded their heads, and one after the other promised that if the boys knew how to handle their rods, there should be little difficulty in securing all they wanted, for a better pool could not be found along the river.

A little side stream came into the main river with a noisy rush, falling from a ledge; and under the cascade there was a very deep place, where the trout were likely to stay until the coming of thick ice caused them to bury themselves in the mud, after the fashion of most fish, until the ice went out in the spring.

Accordingly a landing was made, and soon all was bustle, the boys working with the three guides, as