CUTTING across the lawn which was heavy with dew, the two girls turned toward the entrance to the private road. A haze of smoke still hung above the treetops, but it was evident that the fire which had alarmed everyone the previous day, now was well under control.

Suddenly, Judy halted, staring at tire marks on the dirt road.

“Aunt Mattie was right!” she exclaimed. “A big truck did turn off the main highway!”

“The tire prints are plain to see,” Ardeth agreed, equally startled. “But what would a heavy truck be doing here? The road dead-ends.”

“It seems odd.”

“Perhaps the driver only pulled off the pavement to fix a tire.”

Judy shook her head. “The tracks plainly go down the slope toward the cave,” she pointed out.

“Mightn’t it have been a forest ranger fire fighting truck?”

“That’s so,” Judy acknowledged, “it might have been. Maybe that would explain the headlight signals Aunt Mattie reported seeing. I can’t imagine though, why a Forest Service truck would use this road at night. The fire was across the river.”

As the girls considered whether to go farther down the private road, they heard the rattle of a milk wagon approaching on the main highway.

“It’s Bart!” Judy cried.

The delivery truck stopped some distance away, but after milk had been left at Calico Cottage, came on down the road. Bart drew up to chat with the girls.

“How’s everything?” he inquired cheerfully. “Your ghost behaving himself?”

Judy replied that the household had not been disturbed further by the mysterious flute player. She added, however, that her aunt had slept badly and that lights from a truck had bothered her.

“I guess it must have been a Forest Service truck that went down this road last night,” Ardeth remarked. “See the tire tracks.”

Bart already had stepped out of the milk wagon to inspect them.

“Those weren’t made by a Forest Service truck,” he told the girls. “Their vehicles are lighter. Anyway, I don’t know what a forest truck would be doing here late at night. Seems sort of queer—”

“I thought so myself!” Judy said quickly.

“Let’s have a look-see,” Bart proposed. “Want to ride down the hill with me? If you do, hop in!”

Judy and Ardeth scrambled into the cab, taking care not to step on Pete who was asleep on the floor. “Do you dare leave your milk route?” Ardeth asked the young driver.

“I’m ahead of schedule this morning,” Bart answered. “I can take a few minutes. This is my last week on the route anyway.”

“You’re taking another job?” Ardeth inquired politely.

By this time the milk truck had turned and was moving slowly down the narrow, rutty road.

“Not exactly,” Bart admitted. “I’ve saved enough money to see me through a year of college. I’m laying off because I want to do a little exploring before I start in at school this fall.”

“Exploring?” Judy repeated with interest. “Of the cavern?”

“That’s right.” Bart grinned, as he slowed down for a bad hole in the road. “Folks hereabouts think I’m crazy to spend so much time in a cave. It’s in my blood, I guess! I’m planning on becoming a scientist if I make the grade.”

“Does Calico Cave have any bats or other interesting birds or animals?” Ardeth questioned abruptly.

“Hundreds of bats. You can see them clustered in masses on the walls in one section of the cave, near the entrance.”

“Ugh!” Judy shuddered.

“Why, they’re harmless,” Bart assured her. “I suppose you think of a bat as a naked, winged creature with claws that would catch in your hair?” “I never came very close to one,” Judy admitted, “but I do feel that way about them.”

“Like a great many folks, you do the bat an injustice,” Bart returned. “Its little claws are used only to provide a means of clinging to a rock wall. Bats are afraid of people. They fly at amazing speed, but they can dodge any obstacle.”

“They sleep in the caves?” Ardeth questioned.

“Yes, the bat, you know, is descended from an animal that lived in a warm, uniform climate. For some reason, the bat never has been able to adapt itself to weather changes, so it hibernates in caves which have an almost constant temperature.”

“I’d give anything if I had a bat!” Ardeth announced. “Just one!”

“A bat? What would you want with it?” Bart asked, rather amused by the remark.

Ardeth told him about the nature treasure chest at Pine Cone Camp. “Our unit hasn’t contributed anything, as yet,” she added. “If I could get one of those bats, we’d really be the talk of the camp.”

“I think I can get you one,” Bart offered, glancing at his wristwatch. “You’re serious about wanting it?”

“Oh, yes, but I don’t want to delay you on your run.”

“If the bats are where I think they’ll be, I can pick one off the wall in a minute or two,” Bart promised. “Want to go into the cave with me?” “I don’t think we should without permission from our leader,” Judy said quickly.

“I can travel faster alone at any rate,” the young milkman replied.

As the milk truck rattled on down the winding road, he talked enthusiastically about bats and their habits.

The creatures, he told the girls, had silky, translucent wings and flew with astonishing precision.

“I’ve seen ’em fly between water and ceiling down deep in the cave where there was barely clearance,” he related. “Now, if only I were a bat, I’d explore that siphon!”

“You shouldn’t even think of such a thing!” Judy chided. “It would be frightfully dangerous.”

Bart made no answer.

“You’re not considering it, are you?” Judy demanded, alarmed by his silence.

“I’ve considered it for years,” Bart answered soberly. “I think about it all the time, in fact. I’ve just about decided—” he deliberately broke off, and finished: “Now to tell you more about bats—they hang to the ceilings by their feet, head down. Their bodies are covered by their long, folded wings when they sleep. One can pick them off the wall, and they make no fuss.”

“Ardeth, must you have a bat?” Judy tried to discourage her.

“Oh, yes, if I can get one without causing too much trouble. But how will I get it to camp?” Bart had pulled up at the end of the private road. From the back end of the truck, he brought out a cardboard box with a cover.

“We can use this,” he suggested. “I may not get a bat for you though. I haven’t long to ramble through the cave this trip.”

Tucking the cardboard box under his arm, the cheerful young milkman stepped from the truck. Alertly he gazed at a sizeable slick of oil on the roadside, remarking that it evidently had leaked from the parked truck.

“Apparently, it stayed here quite a while last night before turning around and pulling out,” he added.

“What would a truck be doing down here late at night?” Judy speculated.

“I wouldn’t know,” Bart answered with a shrug. “Interesting question though.”

He started off down the path which led to Calico Cave. Before vanishing from view amid the bushes, he paused to fling over his shoulder: “Don’t try to follow me, even if I’m not back in a few minutes. Wait in the milk wagon.”

Ten minutes elapsed, then fifteen and twenty. Eagerly the girls began to watch the path for their friend to reappear.

The rising sun beat down harder and harder on the milk wagon, causing Judy and Ardeth increasing discomfort. They became restless.

“It’s taking Bart an awfully long time,” Ardeth remarked uneasily. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked him to get a bat for me. If anything should happen—”

“He’ll be along soon,” Judy said. “I think I hear him coming now.”

She was right, for a moment later, the young milkman emerged from the tunnel of branches at the trail’s exit.

“Did you get one?” Ardeth cried eagerly.

“Sure did,” Bart responded.

Coming over to the milk truck, he opened the punctured lid of the cardboard box, so that the girls could peep at the frightened creature flopping inside.

“After you’ve displayed him at camp, better let him fly away,” the milkman advised. “He’ll find his way back to the cave.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to keep him shut up,” Ardeth replied. “That would be cruel. I promise to let him go by tonight.”

“Fine!” Bart approved, climbing into the milk wagon and starting the motor. “Now I want you girls to make me another one.”

“Another promise?” asked Ardeth, carefully holding the box Bart had placed in her hands.

“Yes, I want you to stay away from here unless you’re with a forest ranger or some man.”

“Away from the cave, you mean?” Judy questioned, rather surprised by the request. “From the cave, and also away from this private road.”

“But why?”

“I’ll tell you,” Bart said soberly. By this time he had turned the milk truck around in the narrow road and had headed it up the hill. “There’s something going on here that will bear investigation.”

“The truck tire tracks, you mean?” interposed Ardeth, mystified by the remark.

“At first, that didn’t seem very disturbing,” Bart said. “But I’ve since made a discovery. That was why it took me so long.”

“You didn’t run into anyone in the cave?” Judy asked quickly.

“No, but someone has been there recently. Last night probably.”

“How do you know?”

“Someone had trampled the path to the cave. Boot tracks. Then inside the entrance chamber, I found cigarette butts and long marks, showing where heavy objects had been dragged across the floor. Boxes, I’d judge.”

“All removed?” Judy questioned.

“Yes, no sign of anyone or anything in the cave now.”

“You think someone must have come here last night in that truck and used the cave?”

“Obviously, Judy. But don’t quiz me, because I’ve told you everything I learned. I’m not venturing any guesses as to who it was or why the person or persons came here late at night. My advice is just to keep clear of the place until we can learn what’s going on.”

“Judy and I are returning to camp this morning,” Ardeth informed the young milkman. “So even if we wanted to prowl around, we wouldn’t have an opportunity.”

“That’s all to the good then,” Bart grinned. “There may be no cause for alarm, but it’s just as well not to take chances.”

At the turn-off onto the paved road, he said goodbye to the Scouts and resumed his milk route.

Triumphantly, Ardeth and Judy bore their captured bat to Calico Cottage where they displayed it to Miss Meadows. Though they related how they had obtained the creature, they did not repeat Bart’s warning or mention what they had learned about the big truck.

Miss Meadows seemed to have forgotten the disturbance of the previous night completely. After making a show of admiring the imprisoned bat, she chirped:

“While you girls were away, I cleaned the cupboards.”

“They’re very neat and tidy now,” Judy said, opening the double doors to inspect the rows of china.

“At the back of the cupboard, I found a key,” Miss Meadows remarked casually. She produced it from her apron pocket. “Apparently, it fits a door. But which one I wouldn’t know.”

Judy rocked back on her heels and looked quickly at Ardeth. Neither spoke for a moment.

Finally, Judy trusted her voice. Taking care to keep it steady, to give no hint of her excitement and hope, she said quietly:

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that key fits the cellar door, Aunt Mattie.”

“Why, it might at that.”

Judy forced herself to speak casually, as if the matter were of no great moment.

“The key looks about the right size,” she remarked. “Do you mind if I try it?”