"If we had a chill from every warning you've sprung on us, Bandy-legs,"
Steve told him, witheringly, "why, say, we'd have gone all to pieces
long before now. You're a regular old bad-weather prognosticator, that's
what you are."

"That's right, get to calling names. It's a habit with people who know
they are in the wrong," grumbled Bandy-legs; but, nevertheless, he "drew
within his shell," and said nothing further about Obed Grimes or his
suspicions concerning the same.



CHAPTER V


PACKING OVER THE "CARRY"

Later on the conversation began to lag. Steve was noticed drowsily
nodding his head in a suggestive way; and then after a sudden start he
would look around aggressively, as if to remark: "who said I was
sleepy?" but within three minutes he would be at it again.

In fact all of the boys were really tired out. The day's tramp had been
a difficult one, even for fellows accustomed to such things; and those
regular Adirondack packs, with a band crossing the forehead in the usual
way, had seemed doubly heavy before they decided to stop for the night.

Of course there were sounds to be heard all around them, but
"familiarity breeds contempt," and from Max down they were all
accustomed to hearing similar noises whenever they spent nights in the