Ever since the mysterious inhabitant of the gorge had driven them from his presence by his unearthly howling, there had been a tacit understanding between Tom and Bob that some day, after they had time to get a good ready, they would return and drive him out of his hiding-place; or, if they failed in that, find out who he was, and what brought him there.

It was the hope of being able to carry out one or the other of these ideas that had prompted them, on the previous day, to seize their guns and run for the gorge when they heard those four shots fired there.

When they found Joe, and learned that he was more than half inclined to go in search of the poachers, who, he thought, were pursuing their nefarious work on the other side of the gulf, they endeavored to dissuade him, because they were afraid he might encounter something he would not care to see. But it turned out that Joe knew more about the matter than they did, and furthermore that he wouldn't rest easy until he knew all about it.

Tom was the first to speak.

"I wonder if a stranger thing than this ever happened?" said he. "We wrote a letter and put it into your father's wood-pile, just for the fun of the thing—"

"And by that means unearthed a brace of thieves, or something worse," said Joe. "You needn't look at me in that way. I don't bear you the least ill-will for what you did. On the contrary I thank you for it, and if I were sure that those parties in the gorge would let us alone this winter, I should be strongly in favor of letting them alone, too; for, as long as they stay there, we are safe from two of the worst game-law breakers in the country."

"But the mystery of that gulf is known to but few," said Tom.

"It will be known to more by this time next week," answered Joe. "Dan will tell it to every man and boy he meets, and in that way it will become noised abroad. But here's the difficulty: they won't let us alone. I have not the slightest doubt that they frightened Mr. Brown last night. If you could have seen the face he put against my window, you wouldn't doubt it either; and that seems to prove that, although they keep closely hidden during the day, they go out on foraging expeditions as soon as darkness comes to conceal their movements. If that is the case, what is there to hinder them from robbing our cabins at any time? You have the advantage of me, for one of you can stay here on guard while the other is attending to business; but when you see Joe Morgan, you see all there is of my party, and I can't be in two places at the same time. That's why I am so anxious to have those fellows out of there."

"I understood you to say that you got your information from Dan," observed Bob. "What did he say? Did he tell you everything that happened in the gulf?"

"Yes, and more, too," said Joe, with a laugh. "I went home yesterday after a time-piece, and Dan concluded to take me into his confidence."

"Well, tell us the story, just as he told it to you, so that we may know."

"Oh, I couldn't begin to do that, and besides, you wouldn't believe me if I did!" exclaimed Joe.

"Then tell it in your own way, so that we may know just what we shall have to face, if we decide to go down there," said Tom. "Wait until I get something for us to sit down on, and then we'll take it easy."

Tom went into the cabin, reappearing almost immediately with three camp-chairs in his hands. When each boy had appropriated one, Joe began his story, making no effort to follow Dan's narration, but telling it in such a way that his auditors saw through it as plainly as he did himself. Indeed, the whole thing was so very transparent that Tom and Bob marveled at Dan's stupidity.

"It seems to me that a child ought to have seen through it without half trying," said Joe, in conclusion. "But simple as the trick was, it is going to end in something besides fun; mind that, both of you."

"Then they wouldn't use the rope, because they were afraid that they would dump themselves down in front of the 'hant' before they could get a chance to shoot him," said Bob. "Well, they saved time by not looking for it, because it wasn't there. I never thought of the rope after I spoke about it in the letter. Well, Tom, what do you say? I am ready to face the spectre of the cave if you are."

"Talk enough," was Tom's reply.

And to show that he was in earnest about it, he picked up his camp-chair and went into the cabin.

When he came out again, he carried his double-barrel in his hands and his cartridge belt was buckled about his waist.

No one could have accused these three boys of cowardice if they had decided that they would not go near the gorge at all. It was plain that the men who were in hiding there—they were satisfied now that there were at least two of them—were fugitives from justice, and such characters ought to be left to the care of the officers of the law.

It is true that their presence in the gorge was a continual menace to the peace and comfort of the young game-wardens. They seemed to say, by their actions, "We are here to stay, and you can't get us out."

The boys took the events of the last two days as a challenge to them to come on and see what they could make by it, and the promptness with which Joe Morgan proposed the expedition, and the nervous eagerness exhibited by Tom and Bob in preparing to take part in it, indicated that they meant to do something before they came back.

"There's one thing about it," said Bob, after he had armed himself, and closed and locked the door, "we are not to be turned from our purpose by a dozen dummy ghosts, and neither will those horrid yells have the same effect upon us that they did the first time we heard them. If Dan had fired into the bushes, instead of aiming at the 'hant's' head—"

"I hope you don't intend to do that!" cried Joe, in alarm. "If you do, you will get into trouble as sure as the world. Beyond a doubt, there was a man behind the bushes."

"Of course there was," assented Bob. "But you need not worry about me. I shall not allow my excitement to lead me into anything reckless."

Tom Hallet, who was leading the way, took a short cut through the woods, and his route did not take him and his companions within a mile of Joe Morgan's cabin.

If they had gone there, instead of holding a straight course for the gorge, they might have been in time to see something surprising. They did not know that the enemy was operating in the rear while they were marching upon his stronghold, but they found it out afterward.

They moved along as silently as so many Indians, and when they reached the gorge, spread themselves out along the brink, looking for a place that gave promise of an easy descent to the bottom.

Before they had made many steps, Joe uttered an exclamation of astonishment, and with a motion of his hand, called his companions to his side.

"This is the spot we are looking for," said he, in a suppressed whisper. "Push the bushes aside and you will see it."

Tom did so, and, sure enough, there was a clearly-defined path, which seemed to run straight down to the brook below.

It looked more like an archway than anything else to which we can compare it, for the tops of the bushes were entwined above it, and they were so dense and matted that they shut out every ray of the sun.

"Now what's to be done?" whispered Bob. "No doubt the path leads straight down to their hiding-place, and I am free to confess that I don't want to come upon them before I know it."

Joe's reply was characteristic of the boy. He did not say a word, but worked his way through the bushes, and moved down the path with slow and cautious footsteps.

"That looks like business," whispered Bob, who lost not a moment in following his daring leader, Tom and Bugle being equally prompt to bring up the rear.

In this order they moved at a snail's pace toward the bottom of the gorge, stopping every few feet to listen, and all the while holding themselves in readiness to fight or run, as circumstances might seem to require, and to their great surprise they came to the foot of the path without encountering the least opposition, or hearing any alarming sound.

The deep silence that brooded over the gorge aroused their suspicions at once. What if the enemy had heard their approach, in spite of all the pains they had taken to keep them in ignorance of it, and prepared an ambush for them?

Joe thought of that, and the instant he found himself in the gorge, he moved promptly to one side, so that his companions could form in line of battle on his left—a manoeuvre which they executed at double quick time.

"Great Scott! There's our cave," whispered Tom, who was so nearly overcome with amazement that he could scarcely speak plainly.

"And there's the ghost," chimed in Joe, pointing to a scarecrow in white raiment that lay prone on the rocks under a dense thicket. "Just take a look at its head! Those four loads of shot tore it almost to pieces."

But Tom and Bob did not stop to look at the ghost, for they were too busy taking notes of their surroundings while awaiting an onset from the owners of the camp. For it was a camp in which they found themselves, and everything in and about it seemed to indicate that it had been occupied for some length of time—two or three weeks at least.

Tom's cave proved, upon closer inspection, to be something else—a rude but very comfortable shelter, in the building of which nature's handiwork had been improved upon by the ingenuity of man. The slanting roof, which for ten feet or more from the entrance was quite high enough to permit a tall man to stand upright, was the bottom of a huge rock, firmly embedded in the face of the overhanging bluff. The walls of the cabin, or whatever you choose to call it, were made of evergreens, which had been piled against the rock, top downward, to shed the rain; and that one little thing showed to the experienced eyes of the boys that the men who lived there were old campers.

In front of the wide, open entrance were the smouldering remains of a camp-fire, over which a hasty breakfast had been cooked and eaten.

The boys were sure that the meal had been a hurried one, because the dishes were left unwashed; and that is a disagreeable duty that no old-time "outer" ever neglects, unless circumstances compel him to do so.

When the fire was in full blast, and the flames were roaring and crackling and the sparks ascending toward the clouds, it was probable that the interior of the cabin was bright and cheerful; but now it looked dark and forbidding, thought the boys, as they stretched their necks, twisted their bodies at all sorts of angles, and strained their eyes in the vain effort to see through the gloom that seemed to have settled over the other end of it.

It was a fine place for an ambuscade, but if the enemy had concealed themselves there, why did they not come out? Now was the time for them to make their presence known and felt.

All this while Tom Hallet's little beagle, upon which the boys had been depending to warn them of the proximity of any danger that their less acute senses might not enable them to detect, had been acting in a most unusual manner. He was generally foremost in every expedition in which his master took part, but in this one he was quite contented to remain in the rear.

He went into the camp boldly enough, but after he had taken one look at its surroundings, and caught a single sniff of the tainted air, he stuck up the bristles on the back of his neck, dropped his tail between his legs, and ran behind his master for protection.

"I really believe they are in there. 'St—boy! Go in and hunt them out! Sick 'em!" whispered Tom, pointing to the cabin.

But Bugle was in no hurry to go. He was usually prompt to obey the slightest motion of his master's hand; but now he refused to budge an inch—except toward the rear.

He ran to the foot of the path and stood there, saying as plainly as a dog could that he would go back to the top of the bluff before he would advance a step nearer to the cabin.

The boys closely watched all his movements, and told themselves, privately, that perhaps they had done a foolhardy thing in coming down there.