come on over, fellers!” exclaimed Bumpus, as he tried to leap to his feet; but, owing to his weight, this was never an easy thing for him, and he did not refuse the helping hand Thad stretched out.

So they joined Allan, as he stood there, holding his torch near the ground.

“What you found?” asked Giraffe, as they came up.

“Here’s a print, all right, that seems altogether different from any of ours. I can show you that the shoe has been patched across the toe, and none of ours has such a mark. It’s a fresh print too, and that means the man who made it must have been here since that rain storm. Is that clear enough for you, boys?”

“It’s a cinch, that’s what, Allan. Why, I’m only a tenderfoot scout, but I can understand that much. And I’m real glad to know it, too. We want to take a good look at that shoe print, fellers; p’raps we might want to know it again sometime.”

Step Hen as he said this threw himself down on the ground, and seemed to be making a mental photograph of the impression.