"All aboard for Raccoon Bluff. Those who can't get aboard take the rail route! Hi! Elmer, squeeze in!""On deck, Lil Artha; but do you expect me to climb on top of that mountain of camp duffle, and other luggage you've got piled up, so that your car looks like a tin peddler's outfit?""Oh! we've reserved just one crack for you, Elmer. That's right!" sang out the khaki-clad boy at the wheel, "work your way in alongside George Robbins, who's holding down the rear seat with Lil Artha. I've got Alec McGregor beside me here. And after all, worse luck, I had to leave some things behind that I wanted to take the worst kind.""What's this sticking out—a gun? You ought to know that it's the off season for most kinds of game, Lil Artha," expostulated the latest passenger, as, following directions, he painfully forced his way into the heavily laden car."Yes, I know, and I don't intend to do any great stunts at hunting, Elmer. I only thought it might be good policy to fetch my little reliable Marlin along, because sometimes it's mighty pleasant to know you've got some means of defense handy in case of trouble.""Hear! hear!" ejaculated the boy answering to the name of George Robbins, and who it may be said in passing—for the reader would soon find it out anyway—was a regular born "Doubting Thomas," who nearly always had to be shown, and seldom believed any statement unless it were backed up with abundant proof. "Sometimes there are other beasts abroad in the wild woods besides the common four-footed kind. I believe now we've all had our experiences with tramps and yeggmen of the Weary Willie species.