Vernon hesitated. Had Winter stopped a few yards off, he would have
begun some banter and drawn him away from the pool. Bob was a woodsman
and his eyes were keen. The sun was, however, rising behind the pines
and a beam of light touched the sand. There was no use in trying to hide
the marks. In fact, Vernon imagined Bob had seen them.

"No," he said. "I thought I'd try to trail the wolf Miss Hyslop talked
about."

"Looks as if you'd found some tracks," Winter remarked. "Well, they're
not a wolf's." He sat down opposite Vernon. "A man's! I saw another at a
soft spot. He followed the girls from the lake and stopped for some
time. I allow I reckoned on something like that."

Vernon made an experiment. "Might have been a packer going to a logging
camp, or perhaps an Indian."

"Shucks!" said Winter, although he gave Vernon a sympathetic smile.
"There are no Indians about the lake and packers' boots don't make marks
like those. A city boot and a city man! A fellow who's wise to the bush
lifts his feet. Anyhow, I reckon he doesn't belong to your crowd."

"A sure thing!" Vernon agreed. "I can fix where all the boys were.
Besides, if somebody in our lot had wanted to talk to Miss Hyslop, he
wouldn't have hung around in the woods. My mother's pretty fastidious
about her guests. Well, I'll own up the thing bothers me."

Winter nodded. Harry was frank and honest, and Bob imagined he had felt
Barbara Hyslop's charm. He was sorry for Harry. The thing was awkward.