The ridge above sheltered the spot from the hot sun, and there was
a cavity in the cliff which promised a secure resting place.
As he stepped out on the shelf Nestor paused and pointed to a
collection of three rocks lying in plain view.
"What is it?" asked Jimmie, his eyes on the sandwich packet.
"Read it," replied Nestor.
"Head to the south! shouted Shaw. "Who put that here?"
Nestor looked keenly into the astonished face before him.
"No tricks, now," he said. "Which of you boys placed this
stone signal?"
No one made answer, and Frank bent down to make a closer inspection
of the rocky floor of the shelf. Presently he gave a wild whoop
and arose to his feet with something in his hand.
"What do you know about this?" he demanded. "What do you know
about it, anyway?"
"Crazy," grunted Jimmie. "What is it?"
"The badge of the Black Bear Patrol," was the amazing reply. "Now,
who put it there? Some of the Black Bears said they were coming
down here, but how could they get to the top of this range?"
It was, indeed, a puzzling find. The stone sign had certainly
been placed where it had been found within a few hours, for one
side of the large rock was still a trifle damp, having undoubtedly
been taken from some shady place.
But how should the Black Bears of New York reach that almost
unknown country? That was the question.
"They said they'd sleuth on "Fremont," Frank said, after a pause.
"But they couldn't have followed him here," insisted Fenton.
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