"He just told us to come with you!" George cut in.

"When I tried to cross-examine him," laughed Sandy, "he said he was
afraid we wouldn't go if he told us what sort of a game we were
mixing in."

"Well," Will went on in a moment, "he told me to tell you after we
got into camp on Moose river."

"Go on and tell us, then," chuckled Tommy.

"I don't believe it's any great mystery!" Sandy interrupted.

"We came here," Will said, speaking seriously, "to find the Little
Brass God. Odd sort of a quest, that, eh?"

"What's the Little Brass God?" demanded Sandy.

"Did you think it was a load of hay?" asked Tommy. "The Little
Brass God is the Little Brass God. Didn't you know that?"

"What does any one want of a Little Brass God?" asked George.

"The Little Brass God," Will explained, "is believed to be
valuable, chiefly for what is contained in his belly."

"So this is a stuffed god?" cried Tommy.

"Has he eaten something he can't digest?" cut in Sandy.