together again, and did not speak; Max noticing this, it caused him to
smile in quiet satisfaction. That was a very disagreeable habit of
Bandy-legs, always questioning things, and wanting double proof before
he would put the stamp of his approval on them; and Max kept hoping that
in the process of time it could be broken up.

It was not difficult to follow the trail, even though at times this
proved to be rather faint and undecided; at least it turned out to be an
easy task with the four chums, simply because they were accustomed to
such things. A greenhorn might have lost the track many times, and made
a none. He had in mind the story told by Obed concerning the presence
in the vicinity of another party, and his suspicions concerning their
base intentions. Apparently Max must have believed what the woods boy
said, even though he could see no sign of a camp that morning.

"I've got an idea the seven birches are just over yonder, boys!"
announced Steve, who possessed good eyesight. "Twice now I've glimpsed
something white among the thickets of undergrowth; and you can see that
the creek is beginning to swing around so as to lead us in that
direction."

"G-g-guess you're about r-r-right, Steve!" declared Toby Jucklin,
instantly; "to t-t-tell you the t-t-truth, I've been squinting that same
p-p-patch of white myself q-q-quite some little time now."

It turned out to be just as Steve had prophesied. They soon discovered a
bunch of birches growing from the stump of a larger tree that had long
ago fallen under the ax of a woodsman.

"There are seven, all right--count 'em!" announced Steve with a vein of