"Oh, not quite so bad as that, I think, Steve." Max laughed as he said
this. "When that cap went away it was through the agency of legs, according
to my notion,"

"Oh, I see now what Max means!" cried Bandy-legs; "he believes some gay old
mother squirrel just took a notion to line her nest with that ragged cap,
and made off with it."

"Rats!" exclaimed Steve; "Max don't think anything of the kind. See him
examining the ground right now, will you? I reckon he thinks that same runt
of a boy came back after his cap, and got it, too, in the bargain."

At that Max laughed aloud.

"Good guess, Steve, old chap. That's just what happened, and if you look
where I point, all of you can see the same small footprint we found last
night where the old cap lay."

"He's right, fellows, for here it is!" cried Steve.

They all had to crowd around for a look, although Max warned them to be
careful, so that the impression of the boy's ragged shoe might not be
trodden upon.

"Well, just to t-t-think what b-b-bright fellers we are," said Toby, in
apparent disgust; "when even a r-r-runt of a boy c'n steal up and s-s-spy
on us without a b-b-blessed one knowing it."

"Huh!" grunted Bandy-legs, who seemed in a peculiar frame of mind for one