Bobolink rubbed his chin reflectively.

"A heap of difference between plain tramps, and the kind they call yeggs;
isn't there, Paul?" he asked, presently.

"Everybody says so," came the answer. "Yegg-men are supposed to be the
toughest members of the tramp tribe. They're really burglars or
safe-blowers, who pretend to be hoboes so they can prowl around country
towns, looking up easy snaps about the banks and stores that ought to be
good picking. And so you think these four men might belong to that crowd,
do you, Bobolink?"

"It's barely possible, anyhow," the one addressed went on, doggedly. "And
I was just trying to remember if I'd heard of any robbery lately. There
was a store broke into over at Marshall two weeks ago, and the thieves
carried off a lot of stuff. But seems to me, the men got nabbed later on.
I'm a little hazy about it, though. But supposin' now, that these four
men had made a rich haul somewhere, and wanted to hide their stuff in a
good place, could they find a better one than up here on Cedar Island?"

The other three exchanged glances.

"I guess that's about right," admitted Tom.

"It's certainly quiet enough to suit anybody; and chances are they
wouldn't be disturbed in a coon's age," declared Jack. "Our coming here
was a freak. It mightn't happen again in many years."

"And this old island's already got a bad name; hasn't it?"