Gazing keenly about him on all sides of the little clearing in
the midst of which he stood, the boy's eyes lighted with a gleam
of satisfaction on a largish rock. He lifted this up, adjusted
it to his satisfaction and then picked up a smaller stone. This
he placed on the top of the first and then listened intently.
After a moment of this he then placed beneath the large
underlying rock and at its left side a small stone.

Suddenly he started and gazed back. From the distance, borne
faintly to his ears, came far off boyish shouts and cries.

They rose like the baying of a pack in full cry. Now high, now
low on the hush of the midsummer afternoon.

"They picked the trail all right," he remarked to himself, with a
smile, "maybe I'd better leave another sign."

Stooping he snapped off a small low-growing branch and broke it
near the end so that its top hung limply down.

"Two signs now that this is the trail," he resumed as he stuck it
in the ground beside the stone sign. "Now I'd better be off, for
they are picking my tracks up, fast."

He darted off into the undergrowth on the opposite side of the
clearing, vanishing as suddenly and noiselessly as he had
appeared.

A few seconds later the deserted clearing was invaded by a
scouting party of ten lads ranging in years from twelve to