“That’s the ticket, Lil Artha,” said Elmer, as the tall scout returned presently, bearing on his shoulder quite a good-sized log about five feet in length.

“Reckon that ought to hold all right,” panted the burden bearer, as he cast the small tree trunk at Elmer’s feet.

“Fine and dandy,” commented Mark, beginning to get the barricade in position.

Of course the log had to be planted in such a way that it might secure a grip on the door. This meant that it must incline at an angle of more than forty-five degrees.

Elmer dug a little hole, first of all, at a certain distance from the door, after the length of the log had been tested.

Then, with the help of his chums, he seated one end of the log firmly in this. When the other end was allowed to slip down the face of the door it rested about halfway.

“No danger of that slipping loose if she tries to push out,” remarked Elmer.

Mark gave several additional pulls downward at the upper end of the log, to make it still firmer.

“I’ll just wager,” he said, finally, “that nobody, man or woman, could open that door now from the inside.”

“How about the window?” asked Lil Artha.

“You might manage to crawl through that small opening, but that broad-beamed woman, never,” declared the scout master, positively.

“Then we’ve got our wild bird safely caged.”

“Looks like it, for the time being, anyhow,” was the way Elmer replied.

“Say, see here, you don’t seem to go very strong on the jail business. What’s on your mind now, Elmer?” and Lil Artha confronted the other as he spoke, lifting a reproachful finger at him.

“Well, there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip, you know.”

“Oh, rats! Get down to business, Elmer. What might happen to upset our plans?” asked the tall scout.

“One of the men might return.”

“And of course throw down the log and liberate our prisoner. But between you and me and the lamp-post, Elmer, I don’t believe that’s going to happen. ’Cause why? Well, it’s my honest belief that this Italiano woman’s got all the nerve there is in that crowd. The men are cowards.”

“I’m rather of the same opinion, Artha,” remarked Elmer. “And I’ve thought that same thing more than once when watching some of them in their settlement.”

“But how about your other reason, Elmer?” asked Lil Artha. “Suppose now the men don’t come, what danger is there of her getting out? D’ye expect she could burrow under the walls like we did once up at that old lumber camp?”

“Perhaps. But I was thinking of another thing. Notice how poorly this shack is put together? Why, if that Amazon got on the rampage and just took a notion, I believe she could bring the whole business down in ruins about her head.”

“Wow, I guess she could, Elmer!” remarked the tall boy, nodding his head, “just like Samson did long ago when he yanked the temple down, and kicked the bucket himself, with all his enemies. But I don’t think this dull-witted creature’s got sense enough for that; do you?”

“Perhaps not. I hope she won’t, anyhow, because I mean to leave you and Mark here to guard our prisoner while I’m gone,” said Elmer.

“Oh, I see, you want to join the rest of the troop. Perhaps you’ve got a hunch they might be needing you about now?” Lil Artha observed.

“One thing I know, and that is they’ve left the low ground and gone up the side of the mountain.”

“I guessed that myself when I heard some of the fellers callin’ up yonder. So it stands to reason they’ve lost the trail among the rocks,” Lil Artha went on.

“I expect as much,” Elmer said, “and you know that since the men carried Nat Scott away with them we’ve just got to find them sooner or later.”

“But why d’ye suppose now they’d be so pesky mean as to climb the hill?” demanded the tall scout.

“Oh, perhaps they guessed it would be harder for anyone to track them up there,” Elmer answered.

“Yes, that’s so,” Mark put in; “or it might be they know of some fine cave up yonder where they can hide. You often run across caves, big and little, on stony hills.”

Elmer seemed to agree with this suggestion, for he nodded his head after Mark had advanced it.

“Do you think you can manage?” he asked.

“Well, we’d be a pretty pair of scouts, wouldn’t we now, if we failed to make good on a job like this?” scoffed Lil Artha.

He threw his staff over his shoulder, gun fashion, and began tramping up and down before the door of the hidden shack, just as though he were a military sentry on duty.

“I guess you’ll do all right, Lil Artha,” laughed Elmer.

“Before you go, Elmer,” said Mark, “please tell us just why you believe these Italians haven’t meant to hurt our chum Nat.”

“Well, I just seem to feel it in my bones, and that’s about all I can say,” returned the other. “I’m more convinced now than ever that it’s going to turn out only a silly mistake on their part. Perhaps they’ve been doing something here that’s against the law, and the sight of our uniforms threw them into a panic. They’ve carried Nat off with them just so he couldn’t give the alarm, and bring the rest down on ’em.”

“Counterfeiting, perhaps,” suggested Mark. “Seems to me I’ve heard that the Italians are pretty smart at that sort of thing.”

“Well, I don’t imagine it’s anything as serious as that,” Elmer replied.

“Then tell us what you do think,” demanded Lil Artha.

“You will force my hand, will you?” laughed Elmer.

“It’s only fair to tell us,” pleaded the tall scout.

“Well, all right, seeing that I’m more than ever convinced I’m on the right track. Here, smell that, both of you and tell me what it reminds you of.”

He thrust the queer, sharp-pointed knife that had been taken from the woman into the hand of Lil Artha.

That individual immediately raised it to his nose, took one good smell, and made a wry face.

“Ugh! rank fishy odor, all right!” he declared.

“Then look back a bit, Lil Artha,” Elmer continued. “Don’t you remember that in the mill and cottage we discovered a strong fishy smell when we tried to investigate that underground place?”

“You’re right, we did,” assented the tall scout; “it made me feel a bit squeamish, too, for if there’s one thing I can’t stomach it’s rank fish. Ugh!”

“I see what you’re leading up to, Elmer,” announced Mark, briskly, “and I must say it looks as if there might be a whole lot of truth in it, too.”

“These Italians are often fishermen. A cousin of mine once told me that along the Gulf coast and around New Orleans the whole fishing industry lies in their hands,” Elmer went on.

“Then you believe this bunch is getting fish out of Munsey mill pond, and selling them, perhaps over in Scarsdale?” said Mark.

“They are netting fish illegally, I imagine,” Elmer answered. “That would explain their alarm. Perhaps the game warden has been around and threatened to have them hauled in if they didn’t take warning. And ever since that time they’ve been on the nervous lookout.”

“Gee, I bet you now that’s what it means, fellows!” declared Lil Artha, filled with new enthusiasm, as he grasped the startling idea advanced by the scout master.

“And I never saw so many big frogs as there are around here,” Elmer went on.

“That’s because even the boys keep away from the haunted mill,” Mark added.

“You know how frogs sell in the market, and how it would pay anybody to catch a few hundred such jumboes as there are here,” Elmer remarked.

“Well, it does take you to figure things out just, I must say,” laughed Mark.

“He’s a wizard, that’s what,” declared Lil Artha, whose admiration for his leader was boundless.

“Not at all,” smiled the other; “a little common sense was all that was needed. The strong odor of fish in that cellar put me on the track first. You know there’s an old saying to the effect that where there’s smoke there must be fire.”

“And then this knife, too-like as not the woman does all the cleaning of the fish. I thought she reminded me of black bass or pickerel, I wasn’t sure which,” Lil Artha stated, with a chuckle.

“But we’ve been around more or less, Elmer,” Mark put in, “and I don’t remember seeing any signs of fish cleaning, scales or anything.”

“Of course not,” came the quick reply. “If these people knew they were breaking the law, and expected the game warden to pop in on them any day, you can just believe they’d be mighty careful to hide all traces of this thing.”

“Perhaps they throw it all back in the pond for fish bait,” suggested the tall scout.

“Not a bad idea,” commented Elmer.

“And the cellar under the mill cottage?” asked Mark.

“They might use that as a cool place to keep the fish until they can get them to market,” Elmer replied.

“That’s a fact, seeing they have no ice to pack them in,” Lil Artha observed. “And the more I think of it all, the better it looks to me, fellows.”

“Then you believe my explanation may be the true answer to our chum’s vanishing?”

“I sure do.”

“That they came upon him by accident,” Elmer went on, “and filled with a sudden panic, just captured him to keep Nat from calling out, and bringing the rest of us around?”

“That’s what they did,” Lil Artha affirmed. “And no matter how sorry they might be afterward because they did it, they just can’t drop him now.”

“Then, since we’ve agreed on that point I don’t see the need of my hanging around here any longer,” Elmer observed, drawing his belt one notch tighter, as though preparing for new labors.

“And your orders are just the same?” Mark asked.

“Yes, you two keep guard over the shack, and don’t let the prisoner get away, if you can prevent it.”

“Depend on us, Elmer. And say,” Lil Artha remarked, “don’t you think now it would be a good thing to send George down here?”

“That’s an idea worth while,” Elmer quickly replied.

“Oh, I get ’em once in a long time,” grinned the other.

“A good scheme, and I’ll send George back as soon as I can. When he comes, take him in to see the woman. Have him try and get her to understand that we mean her men no harm, and only want them to set our chum free.”

“And then what? Supposing George is able to get that pounded into her head?” asked Lil Artha.

“Why, he must make her understand that we want to conduct an exchange of prisoners.”

“By that, Elmer,” Mark broke in, “I suppose you mean well give the woman up if they let Nat go free?”

“That’s it,” returned the leader. “And as she is the only one who knows their new hiding place, she must lead us to them.”

“That puts me wise, all right,” declared Lil Artha. “But get good old George here as soon as you can, Elmer. I’m just crazy to see if he knows how to tell the old woman all this.”

“That’s all, boys; I’ll be going now.”

But although Elmer said this he continued to stand there immovable. Neither of his comrades thought it strange, for they, too, had caught the same sound that had reached his ears.

It was evidently a pretty good imitation of the howl of a wolf.

Now, as this was the signal call of Elmer’s own patrol they knew immediately that some scout belonging to that section of the Hickory Ridge troop must be approaching, and took this customary method of announcing his coming.

All eyes were accordingly turned toward that quarter from whence the note of the wolf had seemed to come.

This was a little up the side of the mountain. Elmer, thinking to give the other his location, sent out an answering signal.

“You’re scaring the old woman again with your howls,” remarked Lil Artha, pointing to the shack, at the small window of which they could see the face of the prisoner, filled with wonder and awe.

Perhaps the Italian woman was beginning to suspect she had fallen into the hands of a pack of crazy people.

“There he comes!” suddenly announced Mark, pointing as he spoke.

“Looks like Dr. Ted,” remarked Lil Artha.

“Just who it is,” said Elmer. “I wish it had been George Robbins, now, because that would have saved time. No such luck, it seems, so we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“But what d’ye suppose Ted’s coming back after?” pursued the tall scout.

“Help,” declared Mark, decisively. “You heard what Elmer said when he turned the troop over to Matty? If they found themselves up a stump they were to let Elmer know, just so he could swing in somehow, and pull them out of the hole.”

“They’re up against it, good and hard, bet you a cooky on it,” declared Lil Artha, as the other scout drew near.