wot brung ye here, sech a night as this?" added Homer Opper curiously.
"Hello, Porter, old man!" cried Mallory, rising from a box on which he had been seated and shaking hands. "Caught in the storm, too, eh?"
"Yes," answered Dave. He gazed curiously at the Rockville cadet and his companions. "Been up the river?"
"Not any further than this."
"Hunting?"
"No, skating. We would be going back, only Holt broke one of his skates and that delayed us. Been out hunting, eh? Any luck?"
"Some—good and bad. We shot some rabbits, squirrels, and partridges, and we likewise had our hamper, our skates, an overcoat, and some other things stolen."
"Stolen!" cried Homer Opper. "By gum, thet's tough luck! Who tuk the things?"
"That is what we want to find out," and as Dave spoke he looked sharply at Mallory and the other Rockville cadets.
"Not guilty," came promptly from Bazen.
"Honest Injun, Porter, if you think we touched your things, you are on the wrong track; isn't that so, fellows?"
"It is," came promptly from Mallory and Holt. Then suddenly the star hockey player of Rock-
