The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island
Date: 2011-09-20T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Islands -- Juvenile fiction; Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Boys -- Societies and clubs -- Juvenile fiction

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Title: The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

Author: Quincy Allen

Release date: September 20, 2011 [eBook #37486]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE; OR, LIVELY ADVENTURES ON WILDCAT ISLAND ***

THERE WERE A FEW SHOUTS FROM THE SHORE.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS

ON THE LAKE

OR

Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

AUTHOR OF “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE

FOREST,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES

By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS

Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE

Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST

Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF

Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME

Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 40 cents postpaid.

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS        NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP

The Outdoor Chums on the Lake

CONTENTS

CHAPTER | | PAGE
I | The Burning Steamboat | 1
II | Two Clever Rogues | 10
III | the Tell-tale Picture | 19
IV | The Paddle To Wildcat Island | 30
V | A Strange Happening | 41
VI | Frank Makes a Guess | 49
VII | Exploring the Island | 60
VIII | Old Enemies Appear | 69
IX | Guardians of the Camp | 78
X | Frank Tries To Figure It Out | 87
XI | Recovering a Stolen Boat | 98
XII | Down the Slope | 106
XIII | The Wild Man Develops an Appetite | 114
XIV | Bluff Takes Chances | 122
XV | Playing the Game | 131
XVI | Signs That Spelled Trouble | 142
XVII | Deeper Into the Jungle | 151
XVIII | Under the Cabin Wall | 169
XIX | Holding Bluff In | 169
XX | The Escape Of Jerry | 177
XXI | The Last Straw | 186
XXII | Holding the Fort | 194
XXIII | the White Flag | 203
XXIV | A New Alarm | 212
XXV | The Rescue—Conclusion | 221

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE

CHAPTER I—THE BURNING STEAMBOAT

“Hurry up, and give the signal, Frank!”

“Yes, let’s get the agony over with—either Bluff is a better all-round paddler than I am, or else he has to take water, that’s all!”

“Please hold your horses till I get a good focus on you, fellows!” called Will Milton, the official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.

He stood on a little private dock, overlooking Lake Camalot, and manipulated his camera with the air of a professional.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to wait a bit now, boys,” replied Frank Langdon, the judge, who was also seated in a cedar canoe very like those of the contestants, only it was built for two, his mate being Will.

“What’s gone wrong now, Frank?” demanded Jerry Wallington, with his double-bladed paddle poised for the first dip.

“Why, look at the Eastern Star—she’s making her first Spring trip around the lake, and heads in a line to cut you off your course,” declared the referee.

“So much the worse for the poor old boat; we’ll just have to run her down,” calmly observed the youth called Bluff.

“I was only thinking of your being swamped in the rough water she leaves in her wake. Better relax your muscles for a few minutes, you impatient braves.”

“Talk to me about your hard luck, what d’ye think of that? Why, the plagued old boat’s just gone and stopped where she blocks us off in our little spin,” grumbled Jerry, in plain disgust.

“That settles it, then; we’ll surely have to sink her,” remarked Bluff.

“Hold on before you think of that. I’m afraid there’s something wrong aboard, for Captain Amos would never stop out there on the lake—at least I never knew him to do such a thing before,” said Frank, standing up in the canoe to see better.

“Say, fellows, isn’t that smoke coming out of the cabin?” demanded Will.

“Smoke—why, perhaps the old tinderbox is afire!” ejaculated Bluff.

“Let’s paddle out and see; perhaps we can be of some help!” cried Jerry.

“Come on, then!”

“Hey! you fellers hold on; where do I come in?” shouted Will.

“You stay on the dock and get a snapshot of the whole circus!” answered the unfeeling Jerry, as he spurted away, urging his dainty craft along with rapid strokes of his spruce blade.

“Marooned, I declare,” muttered Will; “but perhaps I can improve the opportunity and get a picture that will go down in the history of steamboating on Lake Camalot.”

The three lads fairly flew over the intervening water, which was almost smooth, as the breeze hardly created a ripple on the surface.

Frank, having a larger boat to manage, fell behind a trifle; but his arms were seasoned in all manner of work, and he kept tagging along close in the rear.

Apparently there was need for alarm, as the smoke had rapidly increased in volume, and was now pouring out of the little steamer.

At the same time they could plainly hear the shouts of excited men; while the shriller voices that arose told that there were women passengers aboard.

Dashing up to the side of the boat the boys scrambled aboard, hastily securing their canoes to any object that promised temporary anchorage.

Then they hurried to the cabin.

Here they found a scene of the utmost confusion. Men were trying to dash buckets of water upon the fire, which seemed to have gotten quite a foothold. It even looked as though the first trip of the little Eastern Star this season would prove to be her last.

Captain Amos was plainly badly rattled by this sudden emergency, though he was working like a trooper to extinguish the flames, and leading his two assistants, the engineer and deckhand, in gallant rushes almost into the fire, where the contents of the buckets they carried seemed to do little or no good.

Frank Langdon was possessed of a cool head in emergencies that called for tact. He made an astonishing discovery as soon as he arrived upon the scene of action. This consisted of the fact that in the tremendous excitement, with the passengers shrieking in his ears, the captain had entirely forgotten the fact that the boat was equipped with fire extinguishers.

“Here, fellows, get busy, strap this on my back, and then get another. We’ve got to put out this fire or some one will be burned to death, or drowned. Don’t let any woman jump overboard!” he exclaimed.

Jerry and Bluff seemed to catch some of the spirit that animated their leader. They succeeded in fastening the extinguisher to his back, even though their hands trembled while so doing.

No sooner had this been done before Frank was off, rushing directly toward the spot where the flames seemed to have taken hold most fiercely.

It was rather appalling, but somehow or other the sight of the brave boy, equipped for mastering the mounting flames, caused a little cheer to arise from the excited passengers.

As soon as the prepared liquid from the little apparatus began to spread over the fire, its ardor was immediately checked. By the time Jerry rushed alongside, similarly equipped, Frank was getting the better of the conflagration.

“Don’t stop with the water, Captain Amos!” shouted Frank, knowing that if their extinguishers gave out before the fire was fully under control it might spring up again into new life.

“Away, boys! Hand up the buckets!” cried the captain.

Several of the male passengers, having by now partly recovered from their panic, started in to assist. Between the whole lot the water came faster, and in less than ten minutes the fire was practically out.

There had been some damage done, but nothing to seriously injure the steamboat; and a carpenter could make repairs while the vessel was covering a few daily runs in this balmy April weather.

Captain Amos now found a chance to rush up to Frank, and shake his hand vigorously.

He was a bluff chap, not much older than Frank, a very good steamboatman, only that he seemed apt to lose his head in a crisis, which after all, must be a grave fault.

“Bully for you, Frank! Your coming saved the boat, I believe. I’ll never forget it, I tell you. Was just about to lay hold of those fire extinguishers when your crowd forestalled me. It was a rough deal all around. With those women shrieking, and holding on to me, begging me to save them, a fellow might be excused for being a little slow to do the right thing. And you, too, Jerry and Bluff—shake hands!”

“What set the boat afire?” asked the curious Bluff, immediately.

The captain shook his head.

“I don’t believe it was an accident. We have always been mighty careful about leaving any waste around where it could start into a flame. Besides, if you notice, boys, you can see that it started close to the cabin, and not near the boiler.”

Captain Amos involuntarily lowered his voice and glanced suspiciously around while speaking. His manner thrilled the boys as they had seldom been before.

“Not an accident! Tell me about that, will you? Do you mean that you believe some one set the boat afire?” exclaimed Jerry.

“Don’t speak so loud, please. That is what I think. Unless it was intentional, I can’t imagine how the thing started,” answered the young captain, who was still much excited after his recent experience.

“But it seems monstrous. Who would be guilty of such a terrible thing?” asked Frank, possibly dimly suspecting that the other might be seeking to cover up some lack of proper caution on his part, though that was not like Amos Short.

“Say, did your crew mutiny?” gasped Bluff, whose eyes were wide open with wonder over this new development of the affair, and who had lately been doing considerable reading of sea tales.

“Well, hardly. I only have the engineer, an old faithful fellow; the pilot, who stuck to his post through it all, and would have run us ashore if the worst came; and one deck hand, a darky,” he replied warmly.

“Then it was a passenger, you think?” demanded Frank, determined to get at the bottom of this new mystery.

“Well, none of my pay passengers. Listen and I’ll tell you. This being the first trip this year we were not so particular about taking pay. At Newtonport a couple of tramps got aboard. When I went to collect their fares they said they had no money, but wanted to get across the lake to Centerville. Rather than have a disturbance on board I allowed them to remain, cautioning them to stay below near the engine.”

“Perhaps you are right, Captain; but what could be their object in firing your boat?” asked Frank.

One of the passengers hurriedly approached at this moment. He was plainly much excited, and as the fire was completely out it could not have been from that cause.

“Captain, before you get into Centerville I demand that you have every person on board this boat searched!” he exclaimed vigorously.

“Searched, Mr. Pemberton—what do you mean?” exclaimed the captain, in dismay.

“Because, sir, my luggage has been opened while we were all excited about the fire, and my property scattered about. I have been robbed of something that was worth considerable money to me, sir. And I intend to hold you and your steamboat company liable for damages!” he cried indignantly.

The captain looked at Frank—here then was an explanation of the sudden fire!

CHAPTER II—TWO CLEVER ROGUES

“This is a serious charge, Mr. Pemberton!” said the captain, in a low voice.

“But I mean it, every word, sir. I tell you I have lost certain articles that represent a large amount of money to me. And I shall proceed against your company unless they are recovered,” declared the passenger, angrily.

Frank believed he recognized in this party a traveling agent who visited the jewelers in the lake towns several times a year. This being the case it was easy to understand that the packet which he complained was stolen, might have contained precious stones, or something along that line.

“Stop and make sure before you say that, Mr. Pemberton,” remarked the captain, turning pale at the threat; for under the circumstances such an action against the company might lose him his comfortable berth.

For once his good-heartedness seemed to have placed him in a predicament. According to the plain rules of the company it should have been his business, upon being refused the proper fare by the two ugly tramps, to have called upon his crew to assist him in putting them ashore, or getting rid of them somehow, even if he had to throw them overboard.

“I know just what I am saying, sir; the packet is gone, and I am ready to swear that I left it in my bag,” replied the other, firmly.

“But consider, sir, that in all this excitement a man might lose his head. Just as likely as not you may have done something with the packet yourself. It would seem to be the first thing a man might think of.”

Captain Amos was arguing with a view to shifting the blame; but he had a positive customer to deal with in Mr. Pemberton. The other shook his head and frowned.

“I insist upon every one being searched before they leave the boat,” he said. “No honest person will object to such a course, I feel sure; and it is the only safe way. And you yourself should be the one to do the job, Captain, in the interest of your company—of course with the assent of the passengers and crew.”

The commander of the boat somehow at this juncture looked at Frank, just as if he sought advice from this source.

“It is the right thing to do, Captain,” that party hastened to say, “and as for my two chums and myself we would like you to begin right now with us.”

“There is no necessity in your case, my boy; for you have been under my eye all the time you were aboard, and we owe you much,” the gentleman hastened to exclaim.

“Nevertheless, if any are to be searched all should be without a single exception, to make it fair. But it strikes me, Mr. Pemberton, that the captain already has a pretty good idea as to who took your valuables, if they have been stolen, and not lost overboard in the confusion,” remarked Frank, calmly.

The traveling jeweler whirled upon the officer.

“How is this, Captain?” he demanded, anxiously.

“We were just wondering how the fire started,” the other explained, “and I declared it could not have come from any carelessness of my crew, and that there was no chance of an accident. In a word, sir, I vowed the fire must be of incendiary origin. Frank, here, and his friends were asking what reason any one would have for setting this boat on fire, when you rushed up stating your loss.”

“I begin to grasp your meaning. It implies that in order to cover up their robbery the thieves started this fire, thinking that if the boat burned no one might be the wiser. That looks very plausible. Did I understand this boy to say you had an idea concerning the identity of the criminal?” Mr. Pemberton asked eagerly.

“Yes, I believe I have,” said Captain Amos, sturdily.

“Then I demand that you place him under arrest immediately, before he can escape with my property. Is there more than one concerned, do you think? Ah! I have an idea I know whom you mean—the two tramps who came aboard at Newtonport?”

“Exactly. They are the ones I suspect. It would be easy to start such a blaze undetected, for no one would be dreaming of such rascality,” replied the officer.

“And taking advantage of the sudden confusion,” went on the passenger, “when men and women were shouting, and rushing frantically about, they must have searched my luggage purposely, knowing that I was carrying a valuable packet in my bag.”

“That would appear to cover the case, sir. In the light of this explanation do you still insist upon every one being searched?” demanded Captain Amos.

Mr. Pemberton also looked toward Frank, although, perhaps, unconsciously. The latter smiled and hastened to remark:

“I really believe that what the captain says may be the true explanation of both the fire and the robbery, Mr. Pemberton. And in that case the arrest of the tramps will bring your valuables to light.”

“Provided they have not gone overboard by accident,” the captain could not resist saying, with pointed emphasis.

The passenger shook his head doggedly, and said:

“There is not the slightest chance of that, sir. I vow I was not once near the spot where my luggage was piled up from the first cry of fire until just now, when I went to see that my things were safe. Surely I would know it if I had gone there.”

“Besides, Captain, unless I’m mistaken this gentleman was the only one among the passengers who seemed to have his senses; I am sure I saw him helping to pass the buckets of water along,” remarked Frank.

“Right you are, son,” said the gentleman, with a faint smile; “for that is a fact. I forgot that I even had any luggage aboard, and the cries of those poor frightened women got on my nerves so that I was bound to do all I could to assist in saving the boat. Now, Captain Amos, I am disposed to go as easy with you as possible, but something must be done before you order the boat into Centerville!”

“I’m willing to do anything that seems right, only tell me what you wish,” replied the officer, promptly.

“If those ugly-looking customers are guilty, they must be apprehended before they have a chance to secrete the goods,” vouchsafed Mr. Pemberton.

“I agree with you. The only question is, ought we try and do it here, or wait until we reach the wharf, where we will find the constable waiting, as he always is when the Eastern Star arrives?”

“It might be safer to wait,” admitted the passenger, “but in that event the rogues will be given a chance to hide the packet, perhaps, about the boat, trusting to getting it another time. Then, as we would have no evidence that they were guilty, we could not hold them.”

“What do you say, Frank?” asked the captain, turning to the leader of the chums, and by that action admitting that he entertained great respect for the opinion of the boy who had done so much to save the steamboat.

“I think the gentleman is right,” came the quick response.

“That we ought to search the tramps now,” queried the captain, anxiously; for he felt certain that this move would bring on a fight, which might add still further to the excitement of the already terrified women aboard.

“Undoubtedly. Just as he says, they might think it good policy to conceal their plunder somewhere about the boat, hoping to get it later on, after the excitement had died out. And if you want any help in doing that same thing, Captain, count on myself and two chums.”

The answer came so readily from the lips of the canoeist that Captain Amos was almost overcome. He thrust out his hand impulsively, exclaiming:

“Say, that’s awful kind of you, Frank. We may need your assistance, for, to tell the truth, those hoboes looked mighty tough, and I reckon they’ll put up some sort of a fight before giving in. I only hope they don’t happen to have any sort of guns about them. Wait till I call up Simmons the engineer, Codding the pilot, and Adolphus the coon deckhand. If Mr. Pemberton gives us a hand we will have eight to cow the rascals.”

“We will need the whole bunch if they are half as tough as you say, Captain,” declared Jerry, anxious to be heard.

The captain beckoned, and a negro boy came running up.

“Go and tell the pilot and engineer to come here at once, and you accompany them,” he said.

“Yas, sah!” replied the willing worker, shooting away with a look of curiosity toward the others, as if wondering what new trouble had arisen.

“That boy was working all the time, I believe,” said Mr. Pemberton, thoughtfully.

“Who, Adolphus?” asked the captain; “every minute at my side; and I’d trust him with every penny I owned. But here he comes, and both men are with him. Now we can get ready to look for those ragged tramps, and corner them.”

“H’m! when did you see them last?” asked Frank, starting suddenly, as if he had made an unpleasant discovery.

“Certainly not since the cry of fire first broke out. But what makes you ask such a question, Frank?” demanded the captain, showing new alarm.

“Well, I have an idea that it may be some little time before you get a chance to round those scamps up, and proceed with your search. They are the busy boys all right, and while we’ve been talking matters over here the hobo couple have been doing things. Look there, Captain, half way to the other shore, and tell me what you see!” and Frank pointed as he spoke.

Immediately a chorus of exclamations arose.

“As sure as you live, there they go like hot cakes!” cried Bluff.

“Talk to me about nerve, if they haven’t ‘cribbed’ Frank and Will’s double canoe!” came from Jerry’s lips, as he stared at the retreating object.

“And just notice, fellows, that both of them paddle as if they knew all about canoes. Those hoboes have done some camping in their day, as sure as you live!” observed Frank, always on the lookout for these telling points.

“Say, do we stand here and let them get clean away without lifting a hand?” exclaimed Bluff, piteously.

“Hardly. Into your canoes, boys, and after the thieves at full speed!” cried Frank.

CHAPTER III—THE TELL-TALE PICTURE

Once again all was excitement aboard the steamboat.

Jerry and Bluff dropped into their frail craft with the practiced balance of experienced canoeists. Frank did not mean to be left behind in the wild race, managed to occupy a place in the craft of Jerry. He seized upon the single paddle, intending to work his passage, and make up for the additional burden.

As they started off they could hear the captain giving orders to the crew.

“He means to turn the boat around, and start after the thieves himself!” cried Jerry, as he dipped his double-blade swiftly on one side and then the other.

Both little mosquito craft were by this time fairly flying through the water. As those who wielded the paddles faced forward they were able to see what progress they made all the time toward overhauling the escaping hoboes.

“Not much hope,” declared Frank, finally.

“They’re two-thirds of the way in to shore. We are gaining, but not enough by half to overhaul them,” announced Bluff, making valiant progress.

“Tell me about this, but I hope Will sees his opportunity to snap off a good view. This has your race beat to a frazzle, Bluff!” shouted Jerry.

“There comes the steamboat! The captain is heading to cut them off,” said Frank.

“But he’s too far away. Besides, it’s too shallow in there, and if he knows his business he’ll never try to go much closer. A fire is bad enough, not to speak of a stranded boat,” observed Bluff.

The two men in the double canoe were working like steam-engines to make progress. They handled the paddles fairly well in unison, and as Frank had said, showed a familiarity with the blades that spoke of former experiences.

As the three boys paddled on they saw the leading canoe shoot up on the shelving beach. Then the tramps scrambled ashore.

“Hold on there, you!” bellowed Bluff, in his excitement; “we want to talk with you!”

For answer the two men only made derisive motions. Then they vanished in the thick timber.

“They’re gone, all right, boys. I reckon it will take some hunting to find such slippery rascals again,” remarked Frank, with a laugh; for it was not his packet that had been stolen, and he had no reason to be deeply concerned.

“What will we do now?” demanded Bluff, looking as disappointed as though he had just lost a race.

“Recover our canoe, and put across the lake to where Will stands on that dock.”

“But see here, Frank, do you mean to let those fellows get away?” asked Jerry.

Jerry was always the impulsive one of the four chums. His characteristic temperament often got him into hot water. Only the preceding Fall when the boys had taken a trip into the woods, owing to a storm unroofing the Academy at Centerville, as narrated in the preceding volume of this series, entitled “The Outdoor Chums; or, First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club,” he had found himself precipitated into numerous difficulties because of this failing. Frank was frequently compelled to restrain this impulsiveness on the part of his chum. On this camping trip they had met with many strange adventures, including an invasion of the camp by a wildcat, a bear and also some enemies who wished to do them harm by setting fire to their tents; Jerry had lost himself in the forest and encountered numerous exciting adventures, and there had followed a series of mishaps that had all winter long given the chums a subject for entertainment and discussion.

Frank was pleased to find that the tramps had not been vindictive enough to try and do any harm to the frail craft in which they had made their escape from the steamboat.

For this he was disposed to feel a little kindly toward them. It also made him more convinced than ever that they must have a tender spot in their evil hearts for a canoe, and could not bear to smash up such a delicate little craft.

The steamboat was lying off-shore, and our boys headed in such a direction that they could talk back in answer to any questions asked by the captain.

“Did they get clean away?” called the commander of the boat, using his hands in lieu of a megaphone.

“I reckon they did, Captain. They skipped into the timber, and that was the last thing we saw of them,” replied Frank, pausing for a minute in his labor.

“That’s bad. We were in hopes you could capture them,” said the other, looking plainly worried over what future troubles were in store for his company.

“Boys, I thank you for the trouble you took, and hope to see you again,” shouted Mr. Pemberton. “I’m going to get off at Centerville, and engage the sheriff to hunt high and low for those rascals. If you hear of anything, please look me up. It is mighty important that I recover possession of that missing packet.”

“All right, we’ll be glad to do so, sir. We expect to spend the Easter holidays in the woods somewhere along the lake, and it’s just possible we may run across those two hoboes again,” answered Frank, dipping his paddle in deeply again, and sending his boat after those of his companions that were flying on ahead.

They allowed him to catch up, for Jerry wanted to ask a question or two.

“Say, do you really suppose we could meet with those scamps again?” he said, eagerness showing in his eyes; for Jerry loved excitement, though fond of calling himself a square sportsman, always giving the game every possible chance.

“About one chance in ten; still, it’s there. If they hang around here for any reason, and we’re in the woods, you can see we might run across the couple,” replied the other, quietly.

“Talk to me about your volunteer fire companies, I reckon we’ve got a cinch on the prize for rapid work,” cried Jerry. “Only for you, Frank, that blessed old Eastern Star was sure bound to go up in smoke. The company ought to vote you a medal.”

“And there’s poor Will standing on the deck waiting for us to come in and tell him what all this fuss is about,” remarked Bluff, as they drew near the shore.

“Hello! you runaways, what in the wide world was all that row out there?” demanded the stranded canoeist, as the others glided in close to the little wharf upon which he was sitting with his legs dangling over, and the precious camera gripped tight in his hands.

“All sorts of things happening. The boat was on fire, and Frank here settled that by grabbing up an extinguisher and turning the hose on the flames, while the crew was handling the buckets. The whole thing would have gone up if we hadn’t arrived just in time. Then there was a robbery aboard,” said Bluff, eagerly.

“What! a robbery? Do you really mean it?” gasped Will.

“Certainly. A jewelry salesman had a valuable packet stolen from his stateroom. It is believed that the fire was started just to cover the robbery. While we were talking over matters, trying to get the facts straight, and decided on arresting a couple of hoboes aboard who were suspected of doing the job, they ran away with the double canoe, and escaped into the woods across yonder,” went on Frank.

“Two hoboes! Why, I saw them standing at the side of the steamboat looking down at the canoes. They’ll appear in the picture I took just then, for the smoke was rolling up, and the view was magnificent,” declared Will.

Frank started and looked hastily out upon the lake.

“I’m afraid it would be too far to recognize the features of any one, even if you caught a first-class view,” he remarked.

“Still there’s a little chance. A magnifier or reading-glass might bring it out strong enough. Anyhow, I’m going right home and make the try, fellows. My roll is finished, and I might as well develop it now as later.”

“Bring it around to-night when we meet at my house to talk over our camping trip for the Easter holidays,” said Frank.

“Where do you think we’ll go, boys?” asked Bluff, anxiously.

“For myself I’m in favor of Wildcat Island at the southern end of the lake. Somehow, nobody ever goes there, and we could have a great time, I imagine,” remarked Frank.

“Yes, especially with the wild man that they say has his den somewhere on that same old island,” remarked Bluff, shrugging his shoulders, as if the idea did not strike him favorably.

“Talk about your circus, a wild man appeals to me every time!” said Jerry. “I’m in favor of going there, particularly because it offers a chance for excitement. Suppose we captured this thing and found that it was a big monkey or orang-outang that had escaped from some menagerie long ago, wouldn’t that be something to shout over? Me for Wildcat Island. How about you, Will?”

“To tell the truth I’ve always wanted to get some good views of that lonely place, and I’ll vote in favor of going there,” returned the young photographer.

Bluff turned anxiously toward Frank.

“Are you backing these desperate schemers up in this madness, Frank?” he asked.

“Well, I’d like to explore that place very much. No one has ever done it, so far as I can learn. Some say the island is haunted; others that there are rattlers in plenty there, besides furious wildcats; and then there’s this story told about a wild man who has been seen several times on the shore of the island. Why, yes, I’m in favor of going there to-morrow, when we start out.”

Bluff threw up both hands.

“I give in. Three against one settles the matter for keeps. Wildcat Island it is then for the Easter camp. But I refuse to accept any of the responsibility for whatever may happen,” declared Bluff, firmly.

“Speak to me about a quitter, will you? Listen to him knuckling down before we even make a start. He claims to have bigger lungs than me, does he? I’ll have to admit that he can make a lot more noise when it comes to squealing.”

Bluff Masters turned upon the other indignantly, as he exclaimed:

“Wait and see who turns white first when that wild man bobs up. My lungs are in better shape than yours, and I can prove it any old day. There goes Will off, and I’m for following him. Bring a print of each picture around to-night, old chap.”

“Sure. And let’s hope they turn out decent,” answered the other, waving a hand as he moved away in the direction of town, leaving it to Frank to paddle the big canoe to the landing where they kept the cedar craft when not in the boathouse of the club.

Frank was a busy fellow during the remainder of the day. He had the job of laying in the stores that were to see them through a whole week in camp; and when four boys get out in the open for that length of time it is simply astonishing what an amount of food they can dispose of.

But Frank had spent many a night under canvas and bark covers in Maine, and, in fact, there was little about camping he did not know. At the same time he always made it a point to ask questions whenever he ran across any one who had also been through the mill; for in this way even veterans may learn new wrinkles by exchanging ideas.

About eight o’clock, Jerry and Will came in together, as they lived close to one another. Bluff was not a minute behind them, anxious for a view of the pictures that had been taken that day.

“Say, how did they turn out?” he demanded, as soon as he entered the room where Will was opening an envelope, and Frank handling a large reading-glass.

“Just bully, that’s what. Never got better results. The water was in a beautiful ripple, you see, and that always adds to a picture. Here, take a look, fellows,” with which remark Will scattered a lot of prints on the table.

He had certainly become quite a clever hand at both developing his films and printing his pictures, for the results were as clear as a bell.

“They do look fine,” commented Frank, as he commenced to shuffle them over; “and the smoke is pouring out of that old steamboat at a great rate. I’m looking for the one you spoke about, where those hoboes are standing in the sunlight on the edge of the burning boat. Here it is. Jerry, you would be apt to know better than I could if either of these fellows has a familiar face. Take a look.”

“If he don’t, perhaps I may. I’ve lived around here three days longer than he ever did,” grumbled Bluff.

Jerry bent down closer and continued to stare through the reading-glass.

“Talk to me about your luck, boys, this beats the band!” he exclaimed.

“Do you recognize one of them, then?” asked Frank, eagerly.

“Sure I do, and I’m surprised Captain Amos didn’t. The dumpy one is Waddy Walsh, the bad egg, who was sent to the reform school three years ago. He must have escaped somehow, and joined the army of tramps on the road,” declared Jerry, positively.

CHAPTER IV—THE PADDLE TO WILDCAT ISLAND

“Waddy Walsh!” exclaimed Bluff, showing sudden interest. “Let me look, Jerry!”

“Will you give an honest opinion, regardless of any bias, one way or the other?” demanded the other, whose father was a leading lawyer in Centerville.

“Of course I will. What do you take me for, anyway?” replied Bluff, aggrieved.

“Then look, and tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” and Jerry handed him the reading-glass.

“Well, what’s the verdict?” asked Frank, after Bluff had studied the picture for a full minute.

“I won’t be as positive as our friend here, but I’m inclined to think that it may be Waddy, all right; anyhow, he’s about his size, and there’s something in his way of standing that reminds me of the fellow,” announced Bluff.

“Talk to me about your hedging, what d’ye think of that? Of course it’s Waddy, as big as life, grown somewhat, and with torn clothes and dirty face; but I’d know his attitude among a dozen. Consider that point settled, Frank.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter much to us at all. If the sheriff, Mr. Dodd, manages to catch up with the runaways, Mr. Waddy will have a chance to go back to where he came from—the reform school. Now, let’s drop those two, and talk over our proposed visit to Wildcat Island,” remarked Frank.

“Have you got all the supplies?” asked Will.

“Here’s the list. Look it over, and if anybody wants to suggest other things all they have to do is to put them down. We’re willing to lug stuff there to the limit of our canoes,” answered Frank.

When they had made all arrangements the meeting was adjourned to the time when they expected to start from the boathouse just after noon on the following day.

“How about the weather—do we go, regardless?” asked Will, again.

“True canoeists laugh at the weather. Come rain, come storm, they buck up against whatever the day brings forth. At one, then, every fellow be on hand. I’ll have the supplies there before that. I’ve got a surprise in store for you boys, too,” remarked Frank.

“Tell me about that, will you; he’s going to let us lie awake all night trying to guess the great conundrum. Say, it hasn’t anything to do with the girls coming over some day to take dinner with us, has it?” asked Jerry.

“Oh! say, that would be immense, only too good to be true,” cried Bluff, who, be it known, was rather inclined to be sweet on Frank’s only sister, Nellie.

“They’ve promised to come, all right; but this has nothing to do with that. You just wait and see, that’s all I’ll say. Now come into the front room, fellows. Nellie has had several friends over, and we’re going to make a delightful evening of it.”

Frank would not listen to any protest, but ushered his three chums into the parlor where they found four lively girls enjoying themselves with music, and waiting for the meeting of the club to come to an end.

For the next hour they romped as only a lot of young people may, for whom the morrow has no terrors. Will’s twin sister, Violet, was, of course, there, as were Mame Crosby and Susie Prescott, the former of whom was never so happy as when teasing Jerry, and getting him to “spout” after the fashion of his learned father when pleading for a prisoner before the bar.

It was about half-past ten that they separated, after enjoying some simple refreshments in the way of cake and lemonade.

The boys saw the girls home, Will taking his sister; while Bluff, secretly informing Nellie Langdon that he only did it out of pure courtesy, saw that Susie was properly escorted through the quiet streets of Centerville, and reached her father’s house in safety.

When Frank reached the boathouse, just at half-past twelve on the following day, he found all of his companions there ahead of him.

“You slow coach, think we’ve got the whole afternoon to get started?” demanded Bluff, who was bustling around as usual, yet accomplishing very little.

“Well, if you examine closer you’ll find that I’ve been here most of the morning, and packed the things in several bundles. These go in the big canoe; those yonder you must stow away, Bluff, while Jerry will take care of the rest,” replied Frank, paying little attention to the way in which he was addressed, because he knew it was mere talk, and no slur intended.

“Sure you didn’t miss anything?” asked Jerry, smiling grimly; for he pretended to scorn this wholesale carrying of stuff into the woods, and always declared he could exist happily with a blanket, a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, some salt and pepper, coffee and ship biscuit, depending on rod and gun to supply all else.

Nevertheless, when the “duffle” was lugged into the woods he considered it a sacred duty to do his utmost to lessen the supplies, possibly for fear they would have to “tote” them out again, as Bluff used to sarcastically remark.

“Not that I know of. If you are afraid, why we might go over the list again, and see what else we can use,” said Frank, with a wink toward Will.

“I beg of you don’t. My poor canoe would sink of fright or freight. Besides, I want you to notice that it’s kind of rough out on the lake, and as it stands we’re taking big chances of being swamped. Come on, fellows, load your cargo!” called Jerry.

“What’s this funny bundle in our boat?” demanded Will, suddenly.

“Ask no questions and I’ll give you no yarns. Just possess your souls in patience, and you’ll see after a while,” came Frank’s answer, as he went on loading systematically, taking heed of the fact that they would need to buck up against some rather heavy seas from the south while on the way, and that everything must be protected from the wet by covers.

“I bet it’s a new patent stove he’s got along,” suggested Will.

“Oh! that’s in my boat already. It burns kerosene, and makes a blue gas. Frank says it’s the boss in rainy weather, with those aluminum camp kettles for cooking. I reckon it must be a box of cake and pies the girls have supplied,” ventured Bluff.

“You’re away off, for they’re going to bring those things when they come. Besides, this isn’t in the shape of a box at all,” laughed Frank.

“That’s a fact, and it looks more like a spare blanket or two,” came from Jerry.

“Well, give it up, boys. I don’t believe you’d guess in a month of Sundays. Now, are you all ready?” queried the leader of the club, as he took up his paddle and prepared to look after the port side while Will worked the starboard.

Frank, being the more experienced of the twain, had the stern seat, as that is usually considered the post of greater responsibility in clearing rocks while running rapids, and generally guiding the craft.

“Say when!” called Jerry.

“The Red Rover is ready to meet the storm!” announced Bluff, whose little craft had a narrow band of red around its gunwale.

“Go!”

The four paddles dipped deeply into the water, and simultaneously the little canoes started into the teeth of the wind. There were a few shouts from the shore, and considerable waving of snowy ’kerchiefs from a group of girls standing before Frank’s house, which latter brought a series of salutes from the paddlers until the commodore of the flotilla sternly warned them that unless they paid more attention to what they were doing an upset would mark the beginning of their Spring outing.

After that they kept their eyes straight ahead. And, indeed, there was really need for all attention, since the waves were running quite high for such small vessels to meet. Still, a canoe, if properly handled, can live in a sea that will sink a much larger boat; since the tiny cedar craft mounts to the crests of the waves with the buoyancy of a cork.

They paddled strenuously for an hour toward the south, and by that time were beginning to feel their muscles growing somewhat sore. The season was young, and they had not as yet become wholly accustomed to hard manual labor, though all of them used the school gymnasium through the winter months in the endeavor to keep in condition.

“Talk about your combers, these are the real thing,” grunted Jerry, as he shot up on the crest of a wave, from which exalted position he had a fleeting view of the island dead ahead; and was then swept down into what seemed to be a valley.

The fact that each boat was so heavily laden added to the danger of their swamping if once they turned sideways to the seas, or broached to; but the boys were conscious of this ever-impending peril, and fought tooth and nail to prevent it.

Wildcat Island was quite a large piece of ground, standing in the lake at some little distance from either shore, but much nearer the western one, that upon which the town of Newtonport was situated, with its distant range of hills, called the Sunset Mountains by the natives.

This island lay not far from the foot of the lake, while another, going by the name of Snake Island, was situated close to the lumber camp at the head of the body of water, which was some ten miles long by between one and two wide.

With a strong south wind blowing, a heavy sea could be kicked up, though naturally this would be found much worse the farther up the lake one went.

“Ten minutes more will see us there, boys!” shouted Frank.

He feared that one of the other paddlers might be getting pretty near his last effort, and wished to encourage the balance of his chums to renewed efforts.

“We’re all right; don’t worry about us,” called back Bluff, who happened to be a little bit ahead.

He had hardly spoken than he came close to the verge of disaster. To make his voice carry the better, Bluff had half turned his head, and in doing this lost his advantage just a trifle. So it came that the next sea struck the Red Rover on the forward port side, instead of head on. This caused the frail canoe to sheer out of her course, amid frantic efforts of her wearied skipper to regain a straightaway heading; and only for the fact that a second sea did not follow closely on the heels of the first, he might have met with an upset.

Presently they ran into the lee of the island, where the water was smoother.

This revived the flagging energies of Bluff and Jerry, always rivaling each other in whatever they attempted; so they set up a little race for the shore.

“Who won, Frank?” demanded Bluff between gasps, as all of them landed.

“Well,” remarked the other, with a sly wink at Will, which at the time the latter did not fully understand, though its import was made plain later, “I’d declare it a dead heat! You two fellows are so evenly matched it’s hard to decide which is the better.”

“All but our lung capacity; there I’ve got him beaten every time,” insisted Bluff.

“You have, eh? Wait until the opportunity comes, and you’ll just see how easy I put you on the mat. Ashore it is, my hearties! We’re castaway sailors for a week!” exclaimed Jerry, suiting the action to the word, and dragging his canoe up on the little shelving beach, beyond which lay the bristling thickets, hiding all the mysteries of Wildcat Island.

“Monarch of all we survey. Here we hide from the world, and forget dull care,” sang Will, prancing about to ease up his strained muscles.

“Here, lend a helping hand, you shirk!” called Frank, who was dragging the big canoe ashore alone.

Suddenly there was a shriek from Will that made the others spring up. Frank’s hand involuntarily reached out for the double-barreled shotgun that lay in its waterproof case on top of the stuff in his canoe.

“Look! look! the wild man!” shouted Jerry.

They all saw a hideous face framed among the branches and twigs of the thicket close by. One second only was it in view, hardly long enough for them to make out that it was human rather than that of an immense ape. Then the ugly face vanished from their sight, leaving the four canoeists gaping at each other as though unable to positively decide whether they had really seen the mysterious wild man of the island, or something which their imaginations had conjured up instead.

CHAPTER V—A STRANGE HAPPENING

“Did you see him, boys?” exclaimed Will, who was shivering as if he had just run across a ghost.

“Why, to be sure,” replied Frank, laughing a little forcedly; for the sight of that hideous face had given him a shock.

“Then it was so, after all. I began to believe I was just imagining things. Oh! what a magnificent opportunity I missed. How can I ever forgive myself?” groaned Will, showing signs of disgust.

“Opportunity for what—capturing the terrible wild man?” cried Bluff, aghast at what seemed the audacity of his ordinarily peaceable chum.

“Certainly not. But if I had only been ready I could have taken his picture to show the folks at home. My stars! what a great feat that would have been,” sighed the disappointed photographer, shaking his head.

“Tell me about that, will you? There was my uncle laughing at me when I mentioned about this same wild man of the island. He declared it was only some innocent animal, or else an old woman’s tale. But every one of us saw him, and we’ve not been ashore five minutes, either,” declared Jerry.

“I foresee some stirring times for us here, what with the snakes, if they are to be found, the ferocious wildcats they tell about, and now this mysterious wild man,” remarked Frank, soberly, as he began to take the bundles out of his canoe and place them high and dry up on the shore.

“Are we going to stay?” asked Bluff.

“Why, to be sure we are. Talk to me about your brave men, I like to hear a fellow speak about being scared away by the first sight of some poor, harmless chap. Perhaps it’s another of Mr. Smithson’s crazy people, escaped from the asylum over at Merrick, and hiding out here.”

On their camping-out trip of the preceding autumn they had met with a remarkable personage who persisted in declaring that he was the famous Prince Bismarck, and who eventually turned out to be an escaped inmate of the asylum at Merrick, some miles away.

A keeper named Smithson had engaged them to help him capture the demented one, and this was what Jerry was referring to when he spoke.

“I wouldn’t wonder but what that may be true,” remarked Frank, seriously; “but no matter, we are not the kind to run at a shadow. We laid out this trip to spend our Easter holidays on Wildcat Island, and it’s got to be something pretty threatening that will frighten us off.”

“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Jerry.

“That’s the stuff!” declared Bluff, thinking that he could not afford to let his rival take all the credit for valor.

“But I’ll never get another opportunity to take his picture,” complained Will.

“How do you know? Man alive, there may be no end of stirring times coming, with that same old hermit figuring in the circus. Perhaps the scent of our coffee and bacon will bring him back into touch with civilization; why, he may even walk into our camp, and try to make friends, when he gets a whiff of onions frying,” and Frank slapped his chum on the back as he spoke along this line.

“Oh! well, if you think that way I’ll keep up my hopes. And you just remember that if I seem to be hugging this little snapshot contrivance closer than usual, why, I’m only keeping in readiness for instantaneous work. A fellow has to be pretty quick on the trigger to get a picture of a wild man, you know.”

They soon had the boats unloaded.

“Pull them out, fellows. I’ve brought along the chains and padlocks belonging to each boat. Having a canoe stolen isn’t such fun, even on a ten-mile lake like Camalot,” ventured Frank, as he produced the articles in question, and proceeded to fasten the canoes together, at the same time making sure they were chained to the sturdy root of a nearby tree.

“He thinks of everything,” admitted Will, in admiration.

“Don’t you believe it for one second. I forget many things; but as they said a wild man inhabited this bit of island, I wanted to make sure he did not run off with any of our boats, and perhaps our supplies.”

“All the same, it took your long head to think of such a thing, old chap. Now, I defy any one to hook our boats. Besides, we don’t mean to ever leave the camp unguarded; and I guess you expect to put up the tents close by here?” said Jerry.

“It looks good to me,” replied Frank, casting another glance at the little open spot close to the beach, which seemed an ideal place for a canoeist’s camp, having a splendid view of the lake, stretching almost ten miles away to the north.

The four were soon as busy as beavers.

They already knew how to erect the tents, which had a fly that could be lowered in front in severe weather, and a ground cloth of waterproof material, quite an addition to the comfort of the interior.

Jerry worked just as hard as the rest, although every now and then pretending to laugh at all this fuss, when a humble shack of branches ought to serve any fellow who called himself a true sportsman.

By the time the fireplace had been built of stones, over which several stout steel bars rested, upon which the cooking utensils would set, the Spring afternoon was drawing to a close.

“What will we have for our first supper?” Bluff asked; for he did not mean to let Jerry carry off all the honors in the cooking line this trip.

Secretly Bluff had been getting the hired girl at his home to teach him some of the kitchen lore, and he had a few surprises up his sleeve which he intended to spring upon his unsuspecting chums when the occasion came around that he was left alone in charge of the camp.

“Nobody thought to bring a steak this time,” ventured Frank; “so if you’re all agreeable, I say that we begin our cooking with a little canoeist’s menu something along this order: Tea, succotash, a can of corned beef, fresh bread and butter, and finish with a jar of preserves and cake from home. How does that strike you?”

“It suits me. And as the sun is sinking low, the sooner we get to work the better,” declared Bluff, readily enough; for he was fairly ravenous, and kept wetting his lips like a hungry dog that scents a rich, juicy bone.

“Talk about your feasts, what could equal that programme? Me for the corned beef every time. Why, it’s my best hold, and I just worship it—hot, cold or medium. How do you stand, Will? Any further suggestions?”

“Well, I brought some imported Switzer cheese along, and you know, fellows, I’m particularly fond of it; so if it’s just the same to you, I’ll add that to the list,” replied the one addressed.

“Oh, my! that’s what I get for speaking too hastily. Now I shall certainly be punished. I suppose as long as that cheese lasts my appetite will vanish at every meal. I only hope that gay old wild man takes a fancy to it, and elopes with the whole blessed bunch. Why didn’t you fetch limburger and kill us outright, instead of our dying by inches? But it will help draw the wildcats around, that’s one comfort,” groaned Jerry.

Preparations for supper went on apace.

They had set the tents at the base of a little bluff; for Wildcat Island was a singular formation, being quite hilly in parts. Indeed, some people were fond of comparing it to the volcanic islands that suddenly rise up out of the sea in regions like the Alaska coast; and as frequently vanish in a night. It was moreover heavily wooded, and the rank vegetation made it anything but an easy task to do any exploring.

Frank had calculated that this steep bluff overhanging the camp would be of considerable benefit to the expedition should a severe storm set in from the west.

As the boys busied themselves with various tasks they chatted and joked after their custom.

The stew of succotash and corned beef, which Frank had called the Canoeist’s Delight, was now ready. He set it aside on a stone to cool a trifle while the table was being prepared.

“How’s the coffee getting on, Jerry?” asked the chief cook of the evening; for they usually changed around, and gave each fellow a chance to show what he knew along the line of preparing appetizing dishes, or of exposing his ignorance, which method of procedure naturally created some rivalry.

“Just about ready. I’ve allowed it to boil furiously three times, and settled it with a dash of cold water on each and every occasion. Talk to me about the nectar of the gods, this suits me all right.”

“Oh! please hurry up. I’m almost trembling with eagerness, after sitting here and sniffing those delicious odors for so long a time,” pleaded Will, who happened to have nothing to do with the supper on this occasion, his time coming on the morrow.

But they gave him no heed, those unfeeling wretches.

The one who camps out must expect to prove himself a hero daily by conquering his appetite and holding it in check with a firm hand until the head chef declares that all is ready for the feast to begin.

Frank had just finished placing the aluminum plates and cups, and was about to reach out for the kettle of steaming stew, when to his astonishment he found the stone, where he had laid it, empty.

Thinking that one of the others might be playing some trick, he opened his mouth to remonstrate, when a cry from Will caused him to turn his eyes upward.

There he saw the little kettle swinging in mid-air, and being drawn hastily upwards by some unseen mysterious agency!

CHAPTER VI—FRANK MAKES A GUESS

No one seemed able to say a single word.

Standing or crouching there, with staring eyes those four lads watched the marvelous ascent of their supper. It was as though an unseen hand had reached down and plucked the kettle from the rock to carry it heavenward.

Now it had reached the level of the top of the bluff, and as they continued to gape, an arm was thrust hastily out from the rank vegetation that grew there; they saw eager fingers clutch the kettle, and then it was drawn from their sight.

“Tell me about that!” gasped Jerry, as soon as he could catch his breath.

Bluff made a dive for Frank’s gun. His own repeating shotgun was at home, out of commission, for which Jerry, who hated the modern arm as the devil is said to hate holy water, never ceased to give thanks.

But Frank caught his arm.

“No, I wouldn’t do that, Bluff. We can afford to lose our stew, for we’ve got plenty more behind it. We can even let the little kettle go, if necessary; but we should hate to have any man’s life on our hands, no matter if he is a crazy being.”

“Did you see him, Frank?” exclaimed Will, in great excitement.

“No more than the rest of you. An arm came into view, and the kettle was drawn in. Somebody is going to enjoy a fine supper to-night. Perhaps the poor fellow has not tasted decent food for ages. Much good may it do him,” said Frank.

“What are you going to do about it, then?” demanded the warlike Bluff.

“Well, the best thing is to open another can of succotash and one of the corned beef, since we seem to have set our minds on that stew,” smiled Frank.

He immediately started operations.

“But are we going to sit here like a lot of babies while that scamp runs off with our supper?” demanded Bluff, indignantly.

“And he’s stolen one of your charming little aluminum kettles, too, Frank,” put in Will, in added horror.

“Well, there are plenty more where that came from, and an indulgent dad will, I am sure, supply me with all I want; but I should hate to have to tell him that I had filled a poor demented being with bird-shot just because the tantalizing odor of my favorite canoeist stew had tempted him beyond endurance.”

“How do you think the beggar ever did it?” asked Jerry at this juncture, as he craned his neck to look straight upward.

“I think I can see how. I noticed a cord of some sort. Evidently he had a hook attached. This he passed over that branch of a tree sticking out from the top of the bluff, so that the kettle might be kept away from the face of the cliff as it rose, and in that way prevented from spilling its coveted contents,” replied the one addressed.

“Talk to me about your aeroplanes, that was an ascension to beat the band! Wow! I had a chill run up and down my spinal column, for I give you my word, fellows, at first I really thought of ghosts, and that some invisible agency had reached down and gobbled our supper.”

“And I thought I was dreaming—that I’d fallen asleep by the fire, and you had eaten up all the stew, while Bluff was throwing up the empty kettle to practice shooting at, like he did our wash-basin that other time,” admitted Will.

“And that chap was angling for the bale of our kettle while we sat here and never once suspected what was going on. Say, we’re a husky lot of tenderfeet. Why, some night a thief will come and steal the blankets off us, and no one be the wiser until morning,” declared Bluff, in disgust.

After a while the second kettle of stew was pronounced ready. It was laughable to see how those four crowded around to protect it against an invading force; and what suspicious looks they cast upward at the brow of the innocent little bluff.

But there was no further manifestation of the Presence near them. Jerry kept an eye on the coffee-pot, and was ready with a keen-edged knife to immediately proceed against any dangling cord and hook that might come in sight.

They enjoyed the supper in spite of the uncanny feeling that this unprovoked and early attack had produced.

“Who was it predicted that the odors of our cooking would stir up the old hermit, and awaken his appetite for the things of the civilized world? Frank, it was you. And sure enough that’s what came to pass. He’s got tired of feeding on roots and birds’ eggs and fish,” remarked Will, feeling better after he had quieted the gnawings of his appetite.

“Provided that it was the so-called wild man,” said Frank, quietly.

At which remark there was a chorus of cries.

“It certainly must have been a human being and not an animal. Even an educated ape or chimpanzee could never have had that cord and hook and managed it as this chap did. What do you mean by doubting it, Frank?” demanded Bluff.

“Yes, tell us what you’ve been thinking?” asked Will.

“Say, that gives me an idea. I wager I can guess what he’s got in mind,” ventured Jerry, looking exceedingly wise.

“Well, go on then,” from Frank.

“The two runaway tramps!”

“Jerry, that head of yours will get you into trouble some day. You are too good a guesser,” laughed Frank.

“Then that was it? You think the tramps have come over here to Wildcat Island to hide while the sheriff is hunting the woods high and low for them? I declare, if that’s so it means warm times in store for us,” exclaimed Will.

“Talk to me about your war scares, what could equal that? Why, we’ll capture the blooming hoboes, and let Mr. Dodd know there are others besides himself who can do things.”

“What makes you think that?” pursued Bluff, who always wanted to know the why and wherefore of everything, he being the Doubting Thomas of the quartet.

“I may be mistaken, remember; for I’m just speculating, you see. In the first place, I doubt if our wild man would be provided with such a convenient cord and hook. Then again I saw that arm, and it was covered with a sleeve that looked wonderfully like that of the taller tramp’s coat, a dun-colored affair.”

“Bravo! Frank’s logic carries the day. I’m going to take it for granted that we are entertaining angels unawares on this blessed old island,” cried Will.

“Angels?” snorted Jerry. “Talk to me about that, will you? They must have had their wings singed, then, or else they’d have flown down and scooped our grub instead of using a measly old string. Angels! Wow! Will’s turning poet as well as artist.”

“I know one thing, boys, and that is we’ll have to keep watch and watch every night from now on. If the tramps are here they’ll steal everything we own, given half a chance,” from Bluff.

“That’s a good idea, and we’ll arrange that one must be on guard for two hours at a stretch. Besides, it will make the camp seem more military,” said Frank.

“I rather like the idea, and ask to be appointed the first keeper of the watch,” spoke up Will.

An arrangement was soon completed. By means of a system each of the boys would be on duty as a guard two hours of the night. This would cover the time from ten to six, which allowed the sleepers ample time to recuperate.

They passed a pleasant evening despite the many suspicious glances cast aloft from time to time. Finally Jerry began to yawn.

“Say, fellows, as I’m the last to go on duty, I guess I’ll turn in. To-morrow I mean to collect a lot of hemlock browse for a bed; but to-night it’s me on the cold, hard ground, with only my good blanket under and above.”

“Not a bit of it, old chap. Here’s where my surprise comes in. Now, you and our good friend Bluff here have been sighing for a chance to prove which one possesses the biggest lungs. I’m going to give you a chance to make good,” announced Frank.

“Hurrah! count me in, whatever it is,” exclaimed Bluff, jumping up, as Frank began to undo the mysterious bundle that had excited their curiosity earlier.

“Here you see a couple of the finest rubber air-cushion mattresses ever made for the use of campers. Each can be extended so that two can sleep on it. Now, I’m going to spread these out here ready. You two will lie down on your chests, and wait till I give the signal, and then blow for all you’re worth. The first one whose mattress is filled with air will be proclaimed the victor,” said Frank.

Jerry and Bluff threw themselves prostrate instantly, eager for the trial, and each filled with a determination to settle the matter for all time. They did not see the sly wink Frank gave Will, nor hear the chuckling sound of amusement that escaped from the lips of that camper as he half turned his head away.

“Go!”

Frank stood there as referee and timed the contestants, who puffed and blew with all the vigor of their young lungs, until both mattresses stood out just as full as they could stand.

“How is it?” wheezed Bluff, looking up, red in the face.

“Do I win?” gasped Jerry, too exhausted to do more than roll over.

“Gentlemen, it has been a remarkable contest all around. I am forced to call it a draw for to-night, as you both came under the wire at the same time. It is simply wonderful!” announced the judge, gravely.

Will mutely held up his hands, but whether to express his admiration for the capacity of the contestants’ lungs or for the astonishing ingenuity of Frank, could not be told. He knew that they would never have any trouble about getting those two air mattresses filled each night, for the eager rivals could hardly wait for turning-in time to come, so anxious were they for a new trial of lung capacity.

Frank had not camped in Maine for nothing. He afterwards admitted in secret to Will that he had witnessed a similar trick being played upon a couple of guides, and had never forgotten it.

“Just you wait until to-morrow night, and I’ll show you,” grunted Jerry, as he rolled over to woo the goddess of slumber.

“Then you’ll have to go a notch better than you did just now, that’s what,” was the pugnacious reply of his rival.

“How does it go, Jerry?” asked Will, whose watch came first, and who was handling Frank’s gun a bit nervously, for he was a poor shot.

“Fine. Frank, you deserve the united thanks of the club for thinking of such things as these. Talk to me about your bed of hemlock browse, it’s all good enough to read about, but this is solid comfort!” said Jerry.

“That settles it. They must be great when such a simple-minded sportsman as you would praise them. Here goes, fellows,” and Frank lay down.

Ere long the camp was quiet, save for the strenuous breathing of Bluff, who persisted in lying on his back, and gently snoring. Will sat out his watch and then awoke Frank, whose turn came after him.

It was just about midnight when he took up his station where he could see all that went on in the camp. He meant to keep a good watch, because, if those rascally tramps were really on the island it was more than possible that they would sooner or later try to make another raid on the larder of the boys in order to satisfy their hunger.

The moon had risen long before, but was hidden behind a bank of heavy clouds.

Frank was trying to figure out how he ought to act under such conditions. He had said that he did not want to do the tramps bodily injury if it could be prevented, but at the same time there might arise conditions that would necessitate prompt and severe measures of reprisal.

He would not like to shoot unless the object of his anger were at a good distance so that the bird-shot would not severely injure the object of his attentions.

Frank had his back against a tree, and could observe the entire camp as he sat there with the minutes passing. Strange noises came from the interior of the island, but this lad had spent so many nights under canvas that most of them were familiar to him as the cries of owls or nighthawks, perhaps quarreling raccoons or an opossum objecting to a rival’s attentions to his mate.

But when he had been sitting there fully an hour Frank’s attention was called to a slight movement in the bushes on one side of the camp.

Thrilled with expectancy he watched the leaves, and kept his fingers upon the triggers of the gun that lay across his knees, ready for an emergency.

CHAPTER VII—EXPLORING THE ISLAND

Again the bushes moved. Undoubtedly there was some person or animal advancing in the direction of the twin tents, with the intention of securing a coveted article of food.

Frank never moved, only watched, and presently he chuckled softly to himself, for he had caught a glimpse of two yellow, glowing balls of light that shone in the semi-darkness under the trees like globes of phosphorus.

“Our first wildcat, come to see what sort of fellows have invaded its territory. Well, I believe in giving all strangers a warm reception, and here’s to you, old chap.”

As he thought thus he gently began to elevate his gun. The invader meanwhile had continued to advance until its whole crouching figure was plainly outlined.

HE DODGED JUST IN TIME TO ESCAPE THE FURIOUS LEAP OF A WILDCAT.

The crash of the gun brought the other three out of the tents in a mad scramble, under the impression that either the wild man or the two hoboes had invaded the camp.

“Where are they? Let me get a crack at the scamps!” shouted Jerry.

There was an angry snarl, and he dodged just in time to escape the furious leap of a wildcat that had been crouching on some part of the lower bluff, entirely unseen by the sentinel.

Jerry was as quick as lightning with his gun. He whirled around and let go almost before any of the others had discovered what object it was he had dodged.

“Talk to me about that, will you,” exclaimed the marksman, as the riddled “varmint” tried to leap again, and fell back to breathe its last; “where was Frank all the while—what did he fire at, tell me?”

“This,” remarked the other, quietly, stepping forward and picking up a monster of a bobcat that had lain, unnoticed by Jerry, amid the leaves still covering the ground from the previous Fall.

“Two of the critters! What do you know about that—a pair the very first night! Well, I reckon this old island was well named, after all. No wonder the boys never wanted to land here, even in the daytime. But I’d rather it was cats than wild men, or thieving hoboes.”

After a search had failed to reveal any more of the “pestiferous cats,” as Jerry delighted in calling them, the three boys crawled back under their blankets again, for the night air felt chilly, after being snuggled down so warmly.

No more alarms came that night, and later on the sky cleared, allowing the moon full sway.

As daylight advanced long before Jerry’s watch was over, it became a part of his duty to resuscitate the fire, and begin to get ready for breakfast.

They had laid out numerous things to be done on this day. First of all it was decided that two of them must hunt in company; and even those left in camp were not to separate more than they could help. Of course it might be necessary for one of the stay-at-homes to launch a canoe and try the fishing, if they expected to extend the variety of food in the larder; but there must be no solitary wandering about the strange island.

Frank and Jerry were chosen to make an exploration that day. They could start in and easily go around the island, exploring every part of it, and learning considerable about its secrets.

If the tramps were really hiding here, possibly some evidence of their presence would be found, the embers of a fire it might be.

Frank was somewhat provoked about the happening of the preceding night, and even thought it might be advisable to move the camp away from that bluff. The others convinced him, however, that they were just as safe there as in any other locality, and so he did not persist in this idea.

He did climb to the top of the bluff to examine the ground. Here Jerry joined him after a little.

“Any signs?” asked the latter, swinging over to where Frank knelt.

“Plenty. Here they crouched and watched us.”

“Then there were more than one?” asked Jerry, eagerly.

“You can see the marks of two separate pair of shoes; and one of them small enough to belong to your Waddy Walsh. I think you said he was a squatty chap, and used to boast of his delicate hands and feet,” continued Frank, pointing.

“You’re right. And that settles one thing. The hoboes stole our kettle, and not any wild man. I reckon they’re a little afraid of us, seeing we’re armed, and they may not be. Wonder what they thought we were shooting in the night?”

“All I hope is they’ll give us a wide berth after this. If they keep on trying to make us feed them, it’s going to spoil our outing some, I fear,” remarked Frank, as he started to descend the bluff again.

After a serious consultation the party separated.

Frank and Jerry started off along the shore, heading to the west.

“If all goes well look for us some time before sunset. We’ve got a lunch along and want to do the job up brown while we’re at it, you know,” said Frank, as he turned to wave his two comrades farewell.

“Good luck!” called Bluff, who was washing the dishes.

Snap!

“I’ve got you as you appear starting off on the great exploring expedition, fellows. If by any evil chance you never show up again, that picture will be cherished by your relatives,” called Will.

“Talk to me about your croakers, will you? That’s a pleasant send-off, now,” said Jerry, as he fell in beside his chum, and lost sight of the cheery camp.

They found the going rather rough at times, and what with climbing over obstacles and cutting a passage through creepers that trailed down from the trees at such times as they pushed in from the shore, progress was rather slow.

At noon they had not gone more than a third of the way around the island.

“Here’s a good place to rest. I move we sit down, eat our grub, and take a few winks. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and feel dopy,” remarked Jerry.

Truth to tell, Frank was not unwilling to comply. He was sleepy himself, and the April sun seemed unusually warm at this time of day.

“Just as you say. That snack of crackers and cheese and cold tongue would strike me about right. Down it is, then,” he replied, dropping on the green grass.

They drank from the lake when thirsty, for the water was pure and cold. After finishing their frugal meal the two lay back to rest. Frank watched the clouds passing over for a time, but finally his eyes closed and he slept.

“Here, get up!” he heard some one say close to his ear.

Jerry was yawning and stretching. The sun seemed to be pretty well down the first half of the western heavens.

“How long have we been asleep here?” demanded Jerry, curiously.

“I’m ashamed to say several hours. It’s now three,” laughed his comrade.

“Then we’d better be on the jump if we expect to get around the blessed old island to-day. I won’t hear of going back after starting out with such a grand hurrah.”

Frank was quite of the same opinion. Accordingly the two pedestrians began to move along their way, following the shore line save in certain places where something out of the usual run attracted their attention.

All the while they were on the keen watch for any signs that would indicate the presence of human beings on the island.

Being able to keep track of their progress by watching the shore of the mainland, they knew when they had reached a point half way around.

“Now we’re on the home stretch,” announced Jerry, as he looked over the lake in the direction of its southern terminus, not more than a quarter of a mile off.

“But the worst is yet to come,” laughed Frank, simply to hear Jerry groan, and not because he really believed it to be the case.

A short time later they were tempted to enter the depths of the timber again to investigate some curious formation that Frank believed might be an Indian mound.

“I’d like to dig into it some time, and satisfy my curiosity,” he declared.

“It makes a bully support for a fellow’s tired back, I know,” said Jerry, as he spread himself upon the ground.

“Well, take a little rest, then, while I examine that other rise over there. It looks larger than this one, and if my suspicions prove true there ought to be a jolly lot of relics dug out of these mounds.”

“All right, Frank, I’m agreeable. Don’t forget me, and go back to camp alone, you know,” said Jerry, laughing, as he stretched himself out.

“I declare if the fellow isn’t thinking of taking another nap. Well, we may see fit to keep you on duty the whole of to-night, so prepare yourself.”

With which warning Frank walked away. He arrived at the larger mound, and was so deeply interested in examining the same that the minutes crept along unheeded. He heard the cries of hawks quarreling in some nearby tree; then again sounds as of small animals snarling came from the brush beyond; but Frank paid little heed to any of these things.

Finally he aroused himself.

“Come, this won’t do. I must get back to Jerry, and we’ll have to do some hustling to reach the camp by dusk,” he exclaimed.

When he arrived at the other mound he was surprised not to find his chum lying there sleeping. Jerry had vanished in a most incomprehensible manner!

At first, Frank thought the other might be trying to play one of his practical jokes upon him. He called, but there came back no answer.

Then he dropped down to examine the ground, having been tutored by the Penobscot Indians of the northern woods; and, finding tracks, he knew that the worst had happened. Jerry had undoubtedly fallen into the hands of their foes!

CHAPTER VIII—OLD ENEMIES APPEAR

“Bend your head a little. Now, look pleasant, as a fellow should after slaying a couple of ferocious wildcats. Ready? Then here she goes!”

Snap!

Bluff had been posing, with Jerry’s gun in his hands. At his feet, artistically stretched out, were the two defunct invaders of the night camp. Will had his camera in position, and was taking a snapshot of the mighty Nimrod.

“After all it’s only a big fake, for I never had a hand in the killing at all,” declared Bluff, with a laugh.

“Fake? No more than most of the pictures you see, where some well-known person is photographed with a big bear at his feet, or perhaps it’s a moose. I guess I know. But it gives me a picture, and neither Jerry nor Frank would bother posing. You’re really the only accommodating pard in camp, Bluff,” remarked Will.

“Oh, rats! you only say that because you can smooth me over, and get me to consent to helping you out in these dreadful frauds of pictures. I reckon I’ll never hear the last of it if Mame Crosby ever learns how I stood for this, when others claimed the game,” grunted Bluff.

“But I thank you ever so much, old fellow; you’re so obliging,” said Will.

“Well, I’d like to get one of the boats out, and try the fish. What are you going to do, now?” asked the other.

“I’ll tell you. I’ve got some flashlight contrivances here that have been used successfully, they tell me, in making wild game photograph themselves. Just think how great that would be. The thing is set with a sort of trigger, you see. As the ’coon or other beast creeps up along the log to get the piece of meat, he crosses a string that sets the flash afire. It’s all over in a second, and there’s your nice picture of Mr. Coon sitting up and looking startled.”

“Huh! you believe you can do all that, do you?” asked Bluff, the skeptic.

“Why not, when others have met with great success. I’ve read up on the subject, and think I’ve got it all down pat. Anyhow, no harm done in trying.”

“Of course not. Well, I’m going to leave this gun of Jerry’s in your charge, as I’ll hardly need it out on the lake. First I expect to dig some worms, and then try for the perch, just to see if they’ve wakened up from their winter’s nap.”

“You won’t go far away, I hope?” remarked Will, a little nervously.

“See that point yonder? Well, off that I believe the perch are waiting for me. I remember catching a bully mess there last Spring when several of us came down here fishing. If you want me at any time just give a call and I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”

So Bluff went off to dig his worms in a promising spot, while Will began to get things in readiness for the clever little trick he intended to play upon B’rer ’Coon or Mr. ’Possum.

Half an hour later Bluff was anchored off the point. He found the perch ravenous, as they usually are after a winter’s sojourn under the ice; and it kept him busy right along pulling in the wriggling, barred poachers, or baiting the hooks they denuded.

It was getting along toward noon when he fancied he detected the odor of cooking in the air.

“Let him have a try at it; I guess it’s up to Will to show how much he has learned in the cooking line since last Fall. He’s a green hand, and it’s about time he took hold. I’m comfortable here. When grub’s ready he’ll call me,” was what the sly Bluff was saying to himself, as he kept his back turned toward the camp, and continued to tempt the perch.

“Hey! you, Bluff!” came a shout just then.

“What d’ye want, bothering me in that way?” demanded the fisherman.

“For goodness’ sake come ashore and give me a hand. I can’t find any more dishes, and the pesky thing still keeps bubbling over. Come quick, or we’ll be smothered under a mountain of it!” shouted the one on shore.

“Now what under the sun has the fellow been up to?” said Bluff to himself, as he pulled in his anchor, and used the paddle to urge the canoe ashore.

When he strode into the camp a minute or so later he stared, and then burst into a shout of laughter as he dropped upon the ground and rolled about.

“Well, I don’t see anything so funny about it,” declared Will, in an aggrieved tone as he looked at the various kettles and dishes heaped high with boiled rice, and the kettle on the fire still pouring up its white contents like a miniature volcano in action. “I never knew rice would expand like that. Why, it’s dreadful the way it keeps boiling over. What can we do to hold the stuff?”

“Say, how much did you put in the kettle?” gasped Bluff, when he could speak.

“All there was, and even then I wondered if there would be any left for the rest.”

Bluff acted as though he would have a fit.

“All there was,” he shouted, “that beats anything I ever heard. And Frank said the grocery-man had doubled his order, and put up four pounds! Say, we’ll have rice every way under the sun up to the day we pull up stakes and get out of here. Still she boils! If you don’t take care the blooming thing’ll put the fire out.”

Finally he condescended to help poor Will, and some of the rice was scooped out of the kettle, relieving the congestion. Still, what to do with the vast quantity of half-cooked rice was a question calculated to appall Will during the balance of the day.

He finally compromised by secretly burying a large portion where he calculated none of his chums would find it again.

Bluff assisted in getting some lunch ready, and Will was very meek after that experience. He grimly determined that he would pay more attention to what the others were doing when preparing meals, and by degrees learn the secret of cooking.

“Did you get your little game trap set?” asked Bluff after they had eaten, and lay around taking it easy.

“Everything is ready for the coming of the night. I’ll expect to find the cheap little camera which I brought along for that especial purpose, doing its work. No matter, it’s worth a trial, anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” remarked Will.

“Rice, for instance,” ventured Bluff, turning his head to look at the great snow-white heap that covered a spread-out newspaper nearby, since they had to empty the cooking utensils which Will had filled one after the other.

“Oh! I admit that was a fine joke on me, all right, and I suppose I’ll have to just stand the digs of the boys for a while. But it’s spurred me on, and sooner or later I’m bound to be a chef worth mentioning. I guess they haven’t found any sort of game on their trip around the island, do you?”

“I heard no shot to tell of it,” admitted Bluff. He was lying on his back and apparently ready for a nap.

“It was some hot out there on the water, son, and I’m inclined to be dopy. Please keep on guard while I take a dozen winks,” he said, pulling his hat over his face.

His dozen winks stretched out for some two hours. During this time Will busied himself in reading a little book on camp cookery which he had brought along. It looked as though he were about to study up on the subject in earnest.

Finally Bluff gave a grunt, began to move and stretch himself, and then sat up.

“Hello! I guess I must have been asleep,” he remarked.

Will drew out his little nickel watch and surveyed it.

“Two hours and thirteen minutes to the dot. A few winks, eh? When am I going to get my chance to indulge?” he demanded, sternly.

“Now, if the spirit moves. But I see you have been busy ‘conning’ that volume of camp recipes. Any dishes that call for rice there, because we’ve got it and to spare. I always liked boiled rice, with sugar and milk, even the condensed kind; but there can be too much of a good thing. I’ll be like the old dominie soon whose people fed him on rabbit every place he went.”

“How was that?” asked Will.

“Never heard that story? Well, you see, they knew he liked rabbit, so every place he ate, his host made sure to have his favorite dish. Of course the good man hated to tell them that he was getting sick of the taste of rabbit; so what d’ye think he finally hit on as a delicate way of getting a change?”

“I give it up; now tell me,” declared Will.

“When he found it before him the next time he bowed his head and this was the grace he said: ‘Of rabbits young, of rabbits old; of rabbits hot, of rabbits cold; of rabbits tender and rabbits tough, I thank the Lord we’ve had enough!’”

“That must have fetched them, all right. Now, if any one puts up a howl here about rice, I’m going to bury the balance of it, mark my words. What ails you, Bluff?” demanded Will, as his companion started half to his knees, and crouching there stared through the leaves of the low-growing trees that concealed the camp from the lake.

“Look yonder, and see! H’sh! not another word!” he murmured.

Will crept to a place beside him, and, finding an opening, also used his eyes to advantage. What he saw would have annoyed any of the boys, considering the fact that they had hoped for a period of peace while camping on Wildcat Island.

A large rowboat was just passing that side of the island. It had come from up the lake somewhere, and was filled with a crowd of rough-looking boys.

“Pet Peters and his crowd again. They gave us all the trouble they could last Fall when we were in camp above the lumber docks, and now they’ve hunted us up again to annoy us,” breathed Will, as soon as he saw who occupied the rowboat. “But Andy Lasher isn’t with them—he’s away on a visit, somebody told me.”

Bluff had reached out and picked up Jerry’s shotgun.

“They seem to be looking in here pretty hard,” continued Will.

“I guess they know we’re here, and they’ve got some mean trick up their sleeve; but possession’s nine points of the law, and we don’t get out to please those rowdies,” said Bluff between set teeth.

CHAPTER IX—GUARDIANS OF THE CAMP

“Do you believe they mean to land here?” asked Will, his voice trembling a bit.

“I did; but it looks as if they’ve thought better of it, for now the old boat’s moving on. They’ll land, all right, and try some game on us to-night, likely,” answered the other, who had pushed the gun forward as if meaning to make use of it should the necessity arise.

Bluff was a reckless fellow at times, and inclined to be fiery, though, like most of his kind, his temper was quickly subdued, and he easily became repentant.

“But perhaps they’re only down here for a row; or, it may happen that they mean to get a mess of those fine perch,” suggested Will.

“Perhaps, but all the same, I saw that old tent of theirs sticking up in the bow of the boat,” declared Bluff, positively.

“Oh! then that settles it. Well, it looks as though we might have a lively enough time of it, after all. What with the wild man, those two thievish tramps, the wildcats that live on the island, and now, last but not least, the Pet Peters crowd that used to train with Andy Lasher. Can we ever go anywhere and be let alone?” complained Will, who loved peace above all things.

“Well, I don’t mind it much. We came out for some excitement, and it looks as if we were going to get our fill,” said Bluff, who was built more upon the adventurous model than his companion.

They watched the boat as long as it remained in sight.

“Seemed to me they were heading in for the shore just before they disappeared,” suggested Bluff, finally, as he turned and looked at his mate.

“I admit that it looked that way to me. Then we might as well take it for granted that they’re going to make camp on the island. I wonder——” mused Will, fingering his pet camera reflectively.

“What now?” demanded the other suspiciously.

“The idea struck me that perhaps I might creep close enough to their camp to get a snapshot. You know those I have of that crowd are in sections, either running away, or doing some sort of stunt. I’d like to have one that showed them up seated around their fire, and planning mischief.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort, my lad, at least not while I’m left in charge of the camp. What sort of fellow are you, anyway? You profess to be afraid of the crazy man that is said to be on this island, and you know those brutes yonder would be only too glad to beat you up if you fell into their hands; yet you propose spying on them without a thought of the danger.”

“Oh! but that was to get a picture, you see,” explained Will, as though such a laudable motive might be sufficient to make any one valiant.

Bluff looked at him, and shook his head.

“They’ll sure have you over in that sanitarium at Merrick, before long, for you show all the signs of getting looney. I tell you what I’m going to do,” he said.

“Well, go on. You’re hardly complimentary, you know; but I consider the source.”

“While you remain here, I’m going to climb up to the top of this bluff. Perhaps I can get a sight of their landing-place. It may even be that I shall discover signs of our two pards making their weary way around the end of the island, yonder.”

“And if there is a good chance for a view, call me up with my camera, will you?”

“Sure. You settle down here. I’ll take the gun along. I can defend the camp just as well up there as below. Don’t worry about that, my boy.”

And Bluff started off.

When he reached the top of the abrupt rise he did have a splendid view of the lake and the distant shore, but could see little of the island.

“No good for taking pictures, pard. Just you stay down there, and I’ll join you after I’ve looked through my marine glasses a little,” he called down.

Frank had brought along a good pair of glasses belonging to his father; and with these Bluff now scanned the shore line as far as he could see it. He was in hopes of discovering some sign of the two explorers around the point; or possibly locating the camp of the Peters crowd.

The big rowboat he did see on the beach, and there were signs of smoke among the trees close by, so that he decided where the town bully and his followers had taken up their temporary quarters.

“Wonder if they dare attack us in the night?” was what Bluff was saying to himself as he once more commenced to descend the bluff.

His mind went back to their previous experiences with these same boys. The rowdies had tried to burn their camp; they had stolen whatever they could lay hands on, and made themselves disagreeable until the conversion of their leader, at that time Andy Lasher, by Jerry, who had saved his life when he was caught under a fallen tree, had changed the complexion of things.

Under the rule of the new leader, Pet Peters, these fellows would be equal to any deed of misconduct just so far as they dared. The fact that the four chums never went into camp without guns of some sort might make them cautious; but that would be the only thing.

Will bombarded him with questions when he came down.

“Did you see Frank and Jerry?—was the camp of those fellows in sight?—could I get any sort of picture, if I climbed up?” so he went on until Bluff called a halt.

“Nothing doing at all. Just stay here where you’re well off. We’ve got our hands full to guard this camp. I’m wondering what keeps the boys so long, that’s all,” he said.

But the minutes lengthened into hours and still there were no signs of the explorers. Bluff and Will started to get supper ready. Neither of them felt very gay, for a shadow seemed to be resting upon the camp.

The sun had set behind the mountains in the west, and with the gathering of the dusk their fears increased.

“Something dreadful must have happened to them,” said Will, looking alarmed.

Bluff tried to laugh it off, saying:

“Humbug! What could happen to those two chaps? They’re up in all that pertains to the forest, and they’ve got a gun along, too. It’s you and I that may well be called the babes in the woods. We know precious little between us; but you just bet nobody can give us points on how to cook rice.”

But Will was too much worried to even show signs of anger or reproach.

“What if they don’t come at all? What if both fellows disappear mysteriously as if they were swallowed up in the earth? We’ll feel pretty tough telling their parents the sad news. I kind of wish now we hadn’t come,” he remarked dolefully.

“Just let up on that tune, will you? Think of the pictures you have already secured, and the others coming. Why, the boys might have been delayed by a dozen things. Make up your mind they’re all right and will pop in on us at any minute.”

But despite Bluff’s attempt to cheer his mate up, Will kept watching the bushes in the light of the rousing fire they kept going, as if hoping against hope that his prediction of evil might not be fulfilled.

They waited until the supper began to get cold.

“We’ll have to eat by ourselves, I reckon, partner. Those other chaps have given us the cold shake for just now. But they’ll be along after awhile, never fear,” said Bluff, putting on a bold face, even while his heart was troubled.

Will was seriously alarmed, but he tried not to show it, out of pride. So there the two poor fellows sat as the time passed, trying to assume a nonchalance that neither of them really felt.

Twice they started up as some sound arose to startle them. Once it was a shrill cry from the neighboring woods, and Bluff laughed to recognize the solemn “whoo-whoo” of an owl; the other time it was some equally harmless source from which the alarming sound sprung.

The idea of spending the night by themselves was far from pleasant. Neither of them wanted to sit up, and yet they dared not lie down and try to sleep.

“This isn’t so very much fun,” grumbled Bluff, as he held on to the gun and continued to stare about him at the changing shadows that seemed to flutter around the outskirts of the camp.

It had been a question of dispute between them as to whether they should keep up a good fire or allow it to dwindle down. Will was for having a roaring blaze that would serve to warn all evildoers and trespassers that they were awake and on the watch. On his part Bluff declared it would draw trouble; so they compromised by allowing the fire to die partly down.

“Say, it must be getting awful late,” remarked Will, stifling a yawn.

“Why don’t you lie down and get some sleep, then?” expostulated the other; “I’ll stand guard, and nothing is going to happen.”

“Of course not, but you see I know I couldn’t sleep a wink thinking about those two poor fellows, and wondering what has happened. Do you suppose they could be drowned, Bluff?” asked Will, in an awe-struck voice.

“Aw, get out with your gloomy ideas. Drowned—those fellows drowned—not on your life. They have some good reason for not showing up. I don’t know what it is, but you’ll see when they do come. Don’t get timid, Will.”

“Timid! Who’s showing the white feather, I’d like to know. Why, I’m not afraid of anything that could happen here. You never saw me shake unless it was with the cold. What is there to fear, after all? Just lie down if you feel like it, and—— What’s that?”

Will gave vent to a half-muffled yell when a sudden vivid flash dispelled the darkness around them, as if lightning had cut the gloom of night.

CHAPTER X—FRANK TRIES TO FIGURE IT OUT

Frank was sorely perplexed. He felt sure that Jerry must have fallen into the hands of some enemies while he was busily engaged in examining the second Indian mound. Perhaps it might be that he had even heard the low cry of his chum when the others seized upon him, but in his ignorance had supposed it to be the call of a bird in the brush.

He tried to read the signs the best he could.

“There’s that same small footprint, showing that the two tramps have been here. Were they watching for us, or did we just happen to drop in upon some favorite hiding-place of theirs? They saw a chance to get my pard while I was away with the gun. And now what will they do with him?”

So he pondered as he stood there looking around at the dense foliage that gave no hint as to where these lawless characters could have taken poor Jerry.

Frank searched high and low as the minutes passed, but without any success. He saw the coming of night with uneasiness.

“This is a nice pickle for me. Trying to warn the others, and I fall into the pit myself the first one. But they wouldn’t dare hurt Jerry. We haven’t done them any harm. What they really want, I imagine, consists of our guns and food. Then they could hold out for a long campaign in the woods, and snap their fingers at the sheriff and his posse. Like as not, in the morning they’ll try to open communications with us and offer Jerry in exchange for our things.”

The thought gave him pain. Never before had he known just how much he thought of the missing boy.

Then he remembered that he had two other chums.

“They’ll be worried too. Perhaps I’d better be getting back to camp to relieve their distress of mind. It will be all right in the morning, no doubt. And there’s always a chance that Jerry may be able to give the rascals the slip. He can duck first-class when he wants to, whether it’s playing hockey or prisoner’s base.”

Getting what small consolation he could out of this, Frank now set about heading for the camp. He had ventured far into the interior of the island, and only for the fact that the stars were shining brightly above, he might have further mixed matters up by getting thoroughly lost himself.

There were times when he found it all he could do to push his way through the dense vegetation which obstructed his passage on every side.

But having taken his bearings, he knew he was slowly but surely drawing nearer the point where their camp lay. The bluff stood up against the star-bedecked sky at such times as he found a clear spot and could catch a view.

Frank happened to have an unusually large supply of matches with him. He always carried some when in the woods, but that morning he had taken up quite a bunch from the receptacle Jerry had made to hold them near the entrance to their tent.

Consequently he was able to strike one every little while when some peculiarly knotty problem presented itself for solution.

It was while standing in a little glade that he ignited one of the matches in order to glance at his watch, more than anything else. His attention was immediately attracted toward something on the ground.

“The ashes of a fire, without a doubt. That proves the presence of human beings on the island; and I guess an escaped lunatic would never be guilty of making a fire. Oh! those two hoboes are here, all right. If I could only get word to Mr. Dodd now, he would surround the island, and capture them easily. But if they hurt my chum they’ll pay dear for it,” he muttered.

The ashes were stone cold, as he discovered upon placing his hand upon them, Indian style. Perhaps a red native of the North Woods could have even told just how long it had been since fire lingered among the dead embers; but it was more than the boy was able to do.

Again he pushed forward. Rounding the bluff, he now headed straight for the camp.

Perhaps he found himself entertaining a desolate hope that, after all, Jerry might have played a little trick on him, running off, and making camp while he lingered. Frank knew about the old game of “holding the bag,” where boys coax a green comrade to go out into the dark woods far from home, and leave him holding a sack over the end of a hollow log while they pretend to scare up the rabbits or other game, but in reality go home; but he did not think Jerry would play such a lark when things looked so serious around them.

He wondered why he did not see something of the fire.

Surely nothing could have happened to the two in camp? That would be worse and worse, for it was bad enough to think of Jerry in the hands of those rascally hoboes, without adding to the horror.

Now he was crawling up near the place under the shelter of the bluff, craning his neck eagerly for some sign of the boys. At first he could not see them. The fire was burning low, and that was a sign he did not like.

Frank began to feel a cold sensation creep over him. It was beginning to seem so sinister and awe-inspiring that he was deeply impressed.

Then he caught the low buzz of voices, and, listening, was cheered to recognize the tones of Will as he made his boast.

When that sudden amazing flash came, Frank crouched there as if transformed into a pillar of salt, like Lot’s wife. For the life of him he could not understand what had happened. He thought he heard a scuffling sound on the other side of the camp, but was not sure. Then Will spoke up, his voice quivering with alarm:

“Oh! what was that, Bluff? Did any one shoot, or was it lightning? I didn’t hear the thunder, did you?”

“Hang the luck, that gave me a bad start, as sure as you live. And to think, after all, it was only that beastly old flash you arranged to make some animal take a photograph of himself! A few times like that and we’ll both be fit to go over to the Merrick Asylum, that’s what.”

“My camera set for a flashlight picture? Why, of course! How silly for me to be startled! But I should have remembered it in a few seconds, anyhow. Thank you for reminding me of it. And it worked, you notice, Bluff. You laughed at the idea, but I guess I’ve got the ’coon’s picture, all right,” laughed Will, hysterically.

“What’s that over on the other side, yonder? I would swear I saw something moving there. Listen, and tell me if you can hear him breathing before I let go!” exclaimed Bluff, excitedly.

“Hold on there, Bluff, don’t you dare fire! It’s me, and I’m hiding behind this tree for fear of being punctured by a load of shot!” called a voice.

Will gave vent to a gurgle of delight, and seemed to try to hug himself.

“Thank goodness, it’s Frank. They’ve returned at last to a cold supper. Welcome home, boys. We’ve been looking for you this long while,” he said.

“Why, he’s alone!” exclaimed Bluff, in surprise.

“Yes, and I’ve got some bad news for you, fellows,” said Frank, coming up.

“About Jerry?” demanded Bluff.

“Yes, he’s gone!” continued the newcomer, dejectedly.

“Gone!” echoed Bluff.

“Goodness gracious! what’s happened?” ejaculated Will, clutching hold of the newcomer’s sleeve, as though his knees suddenly grew weak.

“Disappeared, and I’m seriously afraid that those miserable hoboes have caught him,” declared Frank.

“Caught him—but they’re not cannibals—they couldn’t eat poor Jerry!” came from the bewildered Will, at which Bluff gave a contemptuous laugh.

“Why, of course not, silly. Frank means they’ve caught Jerry, intending to make him valuable some way; ain’t that it, Frank?” he said.

“Just what I mean. They may try to dicker with us for some provisions. I rather guess they’re some shy in that line. Or, it may be they want us to clear out. Any way you fix it the thing has a bad look, and promises to break up our pleasant little outing.”

“It’s a beastly shame. I’d just like to get hold of those tramps. Wouldn’t they be headed for the lock-up in Centerville in a hurry!” growled Bluff.

Frank looked at him seriously as if contemplating some move.

“Well,” said he presently, “I don’t know but what it will come to it that you can have a hand in their removal.”

“What d’ye mean?” demanded the other, instantly.

“It may be that between now and morning I’ll ask you to make a little journey.”

“Looking up the hoboes?” asked Will, aghast.

“Well, hardly. This trip would be by water, and in a canoe,” replied Frank.

“Oh! I catch on, all right. You think some one ought to go back to town and let the sheriff know that his game can be found here on Wildcat Island?” said Bluff.

“Just so, but please lower your voice; there’s no telling who may be hiding in the bushes around here. Those hoboes want something we’ve got, and they mean to have it if possible. Perhaps it may be food, and, again, I’ve thought, they may envy us the possession of guns.”

“Well, I think the idea is a good one; somebody ought to go,” pursued Bluff.

“Then it ought to be you. Who can paddle a canoe better than you, Bluff? Besides, Frank is needed here on the island. Something might come up that neither you nor I could settle,” remarked Will.

“I suppose so. Let me know what you decide, Frank, and you’ll find me willing,” continued Bluff.

For answer the other simply squeezed his hand. He was considerably worried over the mysterious absence of Jerry, and realized that the game they were playing was a much more serious one than any that had as yet claimed their attention. These disreputable rascals were desperate; they had done something calculated to send them to the penitentiary for a term of years, and would try their best to avoid punishment.

“There’s one thing good, Bluff, if you do go: you won’t have to paddle along in the dark,” said Will, presently.

The others glanced toward the east, where the light of the moon was just beginning to appear along the horizon.

Even as they stood there and talked in low tones the silvery face of the moon pushed up into view. Being some days past her full, she was shorn of a portion of her circuit; but still promised a flood of light during the balance of the night.

Somehow even this circumstance seemed to give the boys new encouragement.

“Things never look quite so bad when you can see what’s what,” was Will’s way of mentioning this circumstance.

“Suppose you come and sit down, Frank. Both of us are just dying to hear all about what happened to you and Jerry,” said Bluff, presently.

“There’s precious little to tell, but what there is you shall hear, boys. I’m ashamed to say that it was while I was a little ways off, examining some curious mounds, made perhaps by the old Indians, that this thing happened to our chum. But let’s sit down here, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

In a low tone he started to detail the few things that had marked the circuitous journey of himself and Jerry, while the others hung upon every word, anxious to hear the thrilling dénouement where he found the comrade who had shared his adventures, missing.

Just as he reached this point, and they were all worked up over it, Bluff gave a sudden jump. On the spur of the moment Frank supposed he had become so nervous over the description that he could no longer sit still. He was therefore astounded to hear his chum cry out:

“Looky there, boys! As sure as you live, some miserable reptile is getting away with the canoe I used in fishing, and left pulled up on the beach!”

CHAPTER XI—RECOVERING A STOLEN BOAT

“After him!” exclaimed Frank, as he also sprang to his feet.

“Stop the scoundrel!” echoed Will, a bit slower at getting in motion.

Of course Frank never once dreamed that it could be any other than one of the two hoboes. They needed various things, and a boat might be among the number, although evidently they must have had a craft of some sort in order to reach the island in the beginning.

The moon was half hidden among a few floating clouds that hung close to the horizon, but gave plenty of light for them to see what was going on. The bold thief must have been prowling around in the vicinity of the camp, trying to get a chance to make way with something.

Even as they looked he was shoving the canoe in the water. Then he tumbled into it rather awkwardly, which was a pretty good sign that he knew little about balancing in one of the cranky little craft.

“Where are the other boats—get the key to unlock them!” exclaimed Frank.

“I’ve got it right here—this way, fellows!” echoed Bluff.

He was already bending over the bunch of boats consisting of the mate to the stolen craft and the big double canoe.

Frank snatched up a paddle and bounded over to where his comrades knelt. As soon as Bluff threw the chain aside the other snatched up the single canoe, rushed straight to the water’s edge and launched it. All this had taken but a comparatively few seconds to transpire. Indeed, the thief was not fifty feet away at the time Frank threw himself into the other craft.

Bluff and Will drew up on the edge of the water.

“Mind the camp! Get the guns secure! This may be a clever trick to draw attention away from the tents! I’ll take care of the thief, fellows!”

Frank’s voice boomed over the lake. Already he was sending his paddle deep into the water, and urging his frail craft onward with constantly increasing speed.

“He’s right. We must guard the camp! This way, Will—pick up Frank’s gun, and keep watch. We can have one eye on the lake and the other here!” called Bluff, who was quick to catch on to a thing once he heard it.

So they stood there on the border, each making quick turns of the head in order to see all that went on.

If any thief entered that camp just then, calculating on having a clear field for his operations, he was likely to soon regret his temerity, for the boys were tremendously aroused, and Bluff had an impetuous nature.

Meanwhile Frank was pushing onward with furious zeal.

He could see that he was gaining with every stroke. The occupant of the other canoe seemed to be paddling desperately, but he evidently did not know just how to get the best results from his labor. His craft wobbled considerably; that is, it headed from one side to the other.

As a result Frank was rapidly overcoming the distance that had in the start separated him from the unknown.

He anticipated that at the last the other would try and turn to the shore with the idea of making a hurried landing. In order to cut him off from such safety Frank kept in-shore, where he could interpose should the enemy try that game.

“I’ve got him!” was what he was saying to himself, over and over.

The thought gave the boy a fierce satisfaction. He now began to wonder just how he was going to recover the boat. Would the rascal dive overboard at the last, or put up a desperate fight to retain possession of his prize?

Frank held to the belief that it was one of the hoboes. That meant he would find himself opposed to a man accustomed to defying the law and ready to commit even a crime in order to retain his liberty.

“He’s a coward, anyhow, or he wouldn’t run that way,” he assured himself, as he worked harder than ever at the paddle.

Now he was close upon the other. Too late the thief tried to head shoreward, and escape in that way. Frank saw his opportunity to cut him off; and again the race started straightaway over the moonlit lake.

Those on the shore at the camp could no longer see the rival canoes. The moonlight was deceptive; and, besides, the fiercely paddling twain had turned the point.

But a new light of a fire had dawned upon the vision of Frank, which he knew came from the camp of the Peters crowd; for the boys had, of course, told him about the arrival of these rough customers on the island.

“I declare, I believe it must be one of that lot, and not the tramp after all,” he muttered, as he again cut the other off from heading ashore.

This put a new face on matters.

He no longer hesitated about coming to conclusions with the thief. If, after all, it was but a boy like himself, he could not meet him any too soon to satisfy his desires.

Observing the fellow’s manner more closely now, he was not long in determining upon his identity.

“It’s Pet Peters himself. And he’s getting worried to know just what he’s going to do to save himself and the stolen canoe, too. I’d better end this agony with a rush, and here goes!”

So saying, he now headed directly for the other craft, rushing forward with furious speed that gave the finishing touch to the alarm of the pursued one.

In vain had Pet tried to outwit him; he had been caught every time, and forced to keep in the open. Even when he attempted to hold his own straight ahead it was to see the distance cut down steadily.

Before now he had tried conclusions with Frank Langdon, nor was he hankering after a repetition of his previous experiences. The memory of sundry bruises had never entirely left him; and it looked as though the other might be more angry on this occasion than ever before.

“Hold up there, you thief! I’ve got you cornered!” called Frank, as he pushed still nearer.

Pet ceased paddling. After all it was just as well, for he had lost hope of evading this persistent pursuer in the race.

He clutched his spruce paddle fiercely in his hands. If it came to the worst he could perhaps use the same as a weapon of defense. It had failed him in its legitimate channels, but could he give the other one smart blow on the head with its edge, no doubt Frank must be put out of the running.

And Pet Peters had no scruples on the score of delicacy. He was accustomed to rough methods of carrying his point. A blow on the head usually concluded any argument in which he might be engaged.

“Keep back, you!” he yelled.

Frank saw that he was now standing rather unsteadily in the canoe. He smiled grimly, for he knew that the game was in his hands. Any fellow who is so foolish as to stand upright in so frail a vessel places himself in a position where he is apt to receive a sudden and unexpected bath.

Frank was still advancing in a line as though he calculated to come alongside the other boat. That was evidently just what the bully expected him to do, and to meet which anticipated emergency he was now, as he thought, fully prepared.

“Get out of that boat, and in a hurry, you!” cried Frank.

He was speaking more to hold the attention of Pet than because he expected the other to obey him.

“Keep back, I tell yuh, Langdon, er it’ll be the worse for yuh!” bellowed the other, at the same time making several vicious sweeps through the air with his poised paddle, as if to emphasize his pugnacious intentions.

The act came very nearly being his undoing, for he staggered and had to even make a quick clutch at the gunwale of the canoe to keep his balance.

Frank saw his chance. He was by this time close enough to put his little scheme into practice. That canoe had to be recovered one way or another. If Pet refused to surrender his ill-gotten plunder peaceably, then it was high time other measures were brought into play.

With a sudden turn Frank headed his boat straight at the side of the other. He meant at the last instant to turn far enough to give but a slanting blow, not desiring to injure the second canoe by smashing in the delicate ribs.

PET PETERS TOOK A HEADLONG PLUNGE OVER THE SIDE.

Too late did Pet realize how completely he had placed himself in the power of his more expert adversary, who had handled canoes so long that he was perfectly at home in one.

“Hey, you, keep away!”

It was the despairing wail of a quitter. Even before the prow of Frank’s craft was in collision with the side of his own, Pet knew that he was about to experience a tremendous shock against which he would be given no chance to prepare himself.

In his sudden terror his first act was to let fall the paddle which he had intended to use in knocking Frank out. Then he tried to get hold of both gunwales, so as to brace himself against the shock.

It was too late, however. A second more and he might have done something, but by that little space of time he lost.

Bang! came the stem of Frank’s canoe against the second boat, which was tilted half way over under the impact. Pet Peters took a headlong plunge over the side and disappeared under the moonlit waters of the lake with a tremendous splash!

CHAPTER XII—DOWN THE SLOPE

Frank laughed. He really could not help it, the sight of Pet going overboard with such a great tossing of arms and legs was so comical. But at the same time he did not forget to reach over and reclaim the floating paddle.

He was already holding on to the recovered boat, when, with a great splurge and splashing, Pet appeared on the surface of the water, swimming as well as his clothes would permit. Fortunately the fellow was a regular water-dog, and able to easily sustain himself under any circumstances when in the lake; though doubtless he found his bath rather cold at this early season of the year.

“Think yuh done sumpin smart, I reckon, Langdon! I’ll get even with yuh for it, see if I don’t!” he snorted, sustaining himself by vigorous strokes.

“Better get ashore before your clothes drag you down. Do your blowing afterwards, Peters. You’re a thief, that’s all, and ought to be landed behind the bars for such work as this. Go on, now, before I get real mad and chase you ashore.”

Possibly the fellow feared that Frank might take a notion to do as he threatened, for he had a healthy respect concerning the other’s prowess. At any rate he started to swim away with lusty strokes. One might have thought a bear was in the water, such was the noise he made.

Frank found the painter of the recovered canoe. This he fastened to a cleat, and then, making a turn, headed back to the camp.

Those who were anxiously listening caught a glimpse of the two boats as they turned the point.

“He’s got it back all right!” cried Will, in excitement.

“Bully for Frank! He’s equal to the whole Peters crowd!” called Bluff; from which it could easily be understood that neither of these boys had been in any doubt as to whom they had to thank for the stealing of the boat.

Frank landed in a few minutes. Beyond breathing a little harder than usual he showed no signs of his recent chase.

“This time we’ll make sure that all the boats are fast. It was a bad break for you to leave that one loose. But we have had so many strange things happen since we landed on Wildcat Island that a fellow can hardly be blamed for letting a cog slip occasionally. Lend a hand, Bluff,” said Frank.

That was his way. He realized that no one could be perfect, that he sometimes made mistakes himself, and others should be forgiven if they occasionally neglected to do the things that were expected of them.

And that was the secret of why the other fellows all admired Frank above any of their companions: he could forgive another’s fault, but was very severe with himself when he happened to fall short.

They secured the boats and carried the paddles into camp.

Will seemed inconsolable. He had heard that tremendous splash, and already understood what had caused it.

“Oh! if I could only have caught that fellow just in the act of taking that header, what a beaut it would have been. Too bad that such glorious chances escape me all the time,” he moaned.

But the others had too serious a problem to consider to pay much attention to the complaints of the amateur photographer.

“How about going to Centerville?” asked Bluff, as they sat there near the revived camp fire to talk it over.

“That can wait a while. Plenty of time between now and morning, Bluff,” answered the one addressed, as he poked the fire reflectively.

“But you’ve got something on your mind,” argued Bluff, shrewdly.

“What makes you think that?” demanded Frank, smiling.

“I can see it in your eyes; they give you away. So let’s hear what it is, for you see we’re all equally interested,” replied his chum, eagerly.

“Well, of course it’s about Jerry,” began Frank.

“That goes without saying. You’re not thinking of starting out in the night to make another hunt for him, are you?” demanded Will, arousing to the fact that perhaps he might be left alone in camp, and under the circumstances he would not enjoy that very much.

“Somehow a new idea has flashed into my head. I don’t know that there is anything to it, but somehow I’m unable to dismiss it. The fact of Pet Peters being bold enough to sneak up here and try to make way with one of our canoes gave me this thought,” said Frank.

“Go on, please,” urged Will, while Bluff awaited the disclosure with equal anxiety.

“Perhaps those fellows are responsible for Jerry’s disappearance!”

“What! the Peters crowd? Strange that none of us thought of that before,” declared Bluff.

“Then you agree with me that there is a chance that way?” asked Frank.

“I wouldn’t put it past them a minute,” replied Bluff.

“But what would they want with him? They’re not so desperate as the hoboes, and, besides, you remember that Mr. Dodd warned them he meant to run the lot in if they kept pestering us,” ventured Will.

“Oh! that was away last Fall. Those fellows have forgotten all about that by this time. Frank, I’m inclined to agree with you. In that case, what had we better do? Take the guns and make a sudden attack on their camp?”

Bluff, always ready for trouble, reached out his hand toward Jerry’s gun as he spoke, showing his willingness to follow up his suggestion by immediate action.

“Not so fast, my hearty. If we attacked their camp and then found that they had nothing to do with Jerry’s kidnapping we’d be in a nice pickle, wouldn’t we? After that they could say we were a lot of savages, as well as they.”

“But something should be done!” expostulated Bluff.

“And I propose to do it. In other words I mean to take a little stroll around the point, and see what their camp looks like,” remarked Frank, rising.

“If you find they’ve got our chum, promise to come back for us. We want to have a hand in bringing about his release. You will, won’t you, Frank?” asked Bluff.

“I promise you, boys. Keep Jerry’s gun with you, and stay on guard. Don’t shoot in a hurry, because you might pepper me, and that’s something I object to. Now I’m off.”

“Good luck to you, Frank, and take care of yourself,” said Will.

Frank made his way into the brush. He could have approached the other camp with far less trouble had he chosen to keep along the edge of the water. It struck him, however, that the enemy might anticipate a raid of some sort after their recent miserable attempt to cripple the members of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club in their resources, and be on the watch for stragglers along the beach.

They would possibly not dream that any one would take all the trouble to push through the dense brush, and climb the hill, at the base of which they had squatted upon landing.

Frank was in no hurry. He knew that Pet’s companions would be all excited over his bedraggled condition when he reached shore. Still, it was hardly probable that they would venture to take up the cudgels, and attempt any more mischief, that night at least.

He remembered what a healthy respect these fellows entertained for the guns in the possession of the club members. They were more apt to take it out in making all manner of tremendous plans against the peace of the campers which they would hardly be likely to carry out when their anger had had a chance to cool.

As he drew near the place, Frank found that a little hill interposed, just as the abrupt bluff did in the case of their own camp. This he would have to climb ere he could look down upon those he had come to observe.

There was more or less difficulty in reaching the top of this little elevation.

“They must go around here when entering the woods,” Frank concluded, after he had finally gained the top of the rise.

He hardly liked the idea of returning along the same difficult lines; but when he felt this disinclination he was really worrying over something that was fated never to come about.

By degrees he pushed forward until he found himself on the edge of a little declivity. Down below he could see the old dingy tent which he knew so well, also the fire of the Peters crowd.

The boys were gathered around, watching Pet, partly disrobed, trying to warm himself near the blaze; but if he was shivering outwardly with the cold, he seemed to be burning within, to judge from the motions he made while talking.

“Evidently Pet is making a vow to settle my hash the first time we meet. But I don’t seem to be trembling, that I can discover. I know Pet of old, and how easy he can change his mind,” Frank told himself, as he watched.

Unable to see just as well as he wished from where he first knelt, he moved a little to the left, as that seemed to promise a better view.

It was the last straw upon the camel’s back. Already, though Frank did not know it, the treacherous soil was giving way under his weight, and this move on his part aggravated the trouble.

He felt himself slipping, tried to catch hold of a nearby bush, which gave way in his frenzied grasp, and down the steep incline he plunged!

CHAPTER XIII—THE WILD MAN DEVELOPS AN APPETITE

“Great smoke! what’s that?”

“It’s the wild man, fellers!”

“Run, afore he gits yuh!”

There was an immediate scramble among the adherents of Pet Peters. What they had heard about the wild man of the island had kept them on edge throughout the entire length of their short sojourn; and now, when this sudden object came rolling down the incline into their very camp they were panic stricken.

Pet himself was just as frightened as any of his mates. He had been sitting by the fire, drying his back, having removed his coat and trousers meanwhile. As the alarm sounded he tried to get to his feet so as to join in the hasty flight, but, as might be expected, his legs became twisted, and consequently he fell in a heap.

“Wow! keep off’n me, you! I ain’t done nuthin’!” he yelled.

It was his customary plea when caught doing something wrong.

Frank had by this time reached the bottom of the incline, for which he was not at all sorry. He had not been seriously hurt by his rough tumble, and, thinking only of keeping himself aloof from these ugly spirits, he managed to scramble to his feet after some fashion.

Through it all he had kept a firm grip on his gun, as though he knew what protection he could count on from that source.

There was another grand picture that escaped Will, and which he would never cease to lament the loss of—Frank regaining his feet, those fellows scampering away in several directions, and Pet on his knees, holding one arm up as if to ward off some evil blow which he expected to descend.

“Hey, it’s only Langdon! Kim back here, yuh cowards!” bellowed Pet, as soon as his startled eyes could tell him the truth.

And the others, halted in the midst of their mad flight, looking back, saw that instead of the terrible hairy wild man of their dreams it was indeed only a boy who stood there, and he the one they hated most of all.

So they came straggling back, some looking sheepish over their recent scare, while others scowled as if in an ugly temper.

“Wot yuh want here, Langdon?” demanded Pet, bridling up as he saw that much was expected of him by his followers.

It was unfortunate that this should happen so soon after he had been making such enormous threats about what he was going to do to Frank when next they met.

What could a fellow do anyway when he was minus his coat and trousers, as well as shoes?

Frank had recovered his lost breath by now.

“Well, I might have strolled over here just to ask whether you had arrived safely after your swim; and to express a hope that you might not take cold. It’s pretty early in the season to go in, you know,” he said smoothly.

The others looked at each other as if they hardly knew what to make of it. Somehow this Langdon always did seem to have the advantage whenever they came face to face. In the canoe he was Pet’s master, because he felt quite at home there, while the other did not. Now, here ashore, he held something in his hands which none of them liked the looks of—a double-barreled shotgun.

“Aw, go chase yerself! ’Twan’t that as fetched yuh here. Think we scooped sumpin, an’ yuh come sneakin’ round tryin’ tuh see,” snarled the shivering Pet.

“Come up to the fire and keep warm. It’s your fire; I don’t lay any claim to it. Perhaps you fellows think I slid down that toboggan track on purpose? Well, you’ve got another guess coming, then. I have more respect for my clothes than to try such things, as a rule.”

Frank was talking for a purpose. He did not expect to enter the camp of the enemy when he parted from Will and Bluff; but now that circumstances beyond his control had caused such a move on his part, he meant to take full advantage of it.

Before he left, he expected to know positively what they had in that tent. If Jerry was found there, a prisoner, he must be set free, no matter what happened after such a move.

So, as he talked he kept moving a little at a time in the direction of the said tent. If the others noticed his action they could not give any sort of guess as to what he was after. Besides, he kept that gun always half raised, and moving back and forth, from side to side, so that it covered the entire bunch.

“Jest yuh make tracks outen here, Langdon. Yuh ain’t wanted, see? This here’s our camp, an’ yer intrudin’,” chattered Pet, who was compelled to creep closer to the fire, for he was shivering as though he had the ague.

“Oh! I’m going right away, boys. I assure you I haven’t the least intention of staying and putting you to any inconvenience. Just a little social call, you understand, Pet. I couldn’t bear the thought that possibly you were still floundering around out there on the lake. Glad to know you arrived,” Frank continued, now close to the flap of the tent.

The others had unconsciously followed him, so that with the exception of Pet the whole of the camp’s inmates were clustered just in front of the intruder.

As he uttered the last word, Frank suddenly stooped. He had seen his chance, and meant to investigate the interior of that tent.

To his dismay it was far from light inside. He could just make out objects dimly. There might be a prostrate figure on some of the dirty blankets strewing the ground, for all he could say.

Determined to make sure, he immediately darted inside the tent. A chorus of excited exclamations arose from the half circle of roughs outside.

“He’s a-goin’ ter steal our blankets, that’s what!” shouted one.

“Don’t let him, fellers!” whooped Pet, dancing from one bare foot to the other in his excitement, but not offering to lend a hand in corralling the intruder.

“Hey, you, wot yer want in there?” howled another, looking around for a cudgel that might come in handy.

Then Frank emerged. He still kept his handy gun in evidence, seeing which the others backed away again, not being quite so eager as they imagined to come to hand-grips with this determined boy.

Frank was disappointed. He had failed to find the slightest trace of his missing chum in the tent of the Peters crowd. This seemed to prove that they knew nothing about the kidnapping of Jerry.

Under the circumstances he thought it might be just as well to explain his queer move a little. The knowledge might hasten the departure of these rowdy fellows, and purge the island of their presence.

“I’ll tell you what I was looking for. One of my chums has strangely disappeared, and we thought that perhaps you had him here. That’s all. But I find you haven’t; which makes me believe he’s fallen into the hands of that wild man, or else the two hobo thieves who robbed the man on the steamboat; because we happen to know they’re here on this island.”

“Wot’s that?” demanded Pet, anxiously.

“Why, you heard about the two tramps on the Eastern Star, didn’t you?”

“Yuh mean the fellers as collared the roll o’ Mister Pemberton?” asked Pet, forgetting to even shiver, in his new excitement.

“Yes, and they’re here on this island right now, hungry and desperate,” continued Frank, thinking it good policy to rub it in good and hard while he was about it.

“Here on this yer island—them desperadoes are?” gasped one.

“That’s easy to say, Langdon; but how d’ye know?” demanded Pet.

“Well, we’ve seen them, for one thing. Then they robbed us of a kettle with our supper last night. Let a cord down from the top of the cliff, and caught the bale of the kettle with a hook. First thing we knew, our supper was sailing up, and that was the last we ever saw of it,” replied Frank, now beginning to edge toward the beach, as he had suddenly decided to return by an easier path than the one he had taken in coming.

Then the boys looked at each other uneasily.

“A wild man loose here; an’ now them two desperate critters huntin’ round fur anythin’ loose. Say, fellers, it’s up ter us ter git outen this in the mornin’,” said Pet, shaking his head with determination.

And not one of his mates lifted his voice, even in a whisper, contrarywise. Indeed, to tell the truth, they looked as though the hours that must elapse ere they departed hence would fairly drag along.

Frank, believing that he had reached a point where he could boldly make his exit from the hostile camp, was just in the act of backing away when he saw something that gave him a shock.

“Say, look yonder, you fellows, what’s happening to your provision basket!” he exclaimed, pointing with his gun.

Every boy whirled around, and as he did so a concerted howl went up, partly of rage, though terror could be plainly detected in the chorus. There was a swiftly moving figure carrying off the big basket in which all the balance of their supplies happened to be gathered. And such a figure—whether a wild man or a gigantic ape—it would be impossible to say, for in the quick glimpse which Frank had of it ere the Thing vanished among the bushes he could only positively say that it seemed to be covered with hair, and when its face was turned it looked a cross between that of a demented human being and a great ape!

CHAPTER XIV—BLUFF TAKES CHANCES

There never was such a frightened group of fellows as that crowd when they saw their basket of provisions vanish in the grip of this awful-looking object.

For a few seconds they seemed too astonished to even move, and the thief had actually gone out of sight in the brush before the first boy made a jump after him.

Whether it was a touch of valor that actuated him, or the desire to get back the precious basket that held their food, it would be hard to say.

“Look out!” shouted Frank, who had seen something descending along the face of the little rise.

Even as he spoke a shower of stones, together with lumps of earth, fell with a great clatter. Somebody was bombarding the camp from above! It looked as though the wild man must have had wings to reach that spot, if the missiles came from him.

By this time Pet himself was in full flight. He had snatched up his loose garments from the sticks on which they were drying at the fire, and made for the shelter of the bushes on the other side of the camp.

The rest scampered this way and that, one even hiding inside the tent, while a couple of others tried to budge the heavy boat that had been drawn up high and dry on the shore, as if seriously considering the chances of flight.

Frank saw his opportunity to get away, and was not slow to avail himself of it.

“Thanks, awfully, Mr. Wild Man; I’m indebted to you,” he laughed, as he started along the little beach, headed for his own camp.

He knew his chums would be dreadfully anxious by this time. They must have surely heard the excited cries from the other camp, and would be alarmed lest something had happened to him.

As he drew near he whistled. This was a signal that Bluff should recognize, and which would tell him who approached, so that he would not be tempted to fire, or make any threatening demonstration.

“Welcome back, Frank!” exclaimed Bluff, as he appeared in sight.

“Sure, we’re glad to see you safe and sound. From the racket we began to be afraid that you’d got into trouble,” observed Will.

“The trouble seemed to be on the other side, boys. They’ve fared worse than we did. In our case it was only a kettle full of stew; but they lost everything!”

“What’s that? Do you mean somebody cribbed their grub?” demanded Bluff.

“Just what happened, and right under my eyes, too. I saw it done. Oh! what you missed then, Will! If you could only have snapped off that picture, there wouldn’t be a single soul in Centerville doubt the story about the wild man,” said Frank.

“Wild man! Do you mean to say he entered their camp while you were there?”

“And actually grabbed up their stuff under your eyes? Then you can tell us what he looked like. Was it really a man, or an animal, Frank?” questioned Bluff, excitedly.

Frank shook his head, as he replied:

“There you’ve got me, for just on the spur of the moment I couldn’t say positively. He walked on two legs, and seemed like a man; but looked like a great big chimpanzee, or an ape, I’ve seen do tricks at the circus. Anyway, he was a terrible object, and sent a shiver over me.”

“Gracious goodness! and he stole their provisions, you said?” exclaimed Will, involuntarily looking around as if he half expected the dreadful wild man to rush into view right then and there.

“Everything they had, I imagine. One good thing, it will make them get out in the morning, and for that we’re obliged to the wild man. If only Jerry were here, now, I’d be feeling first-class,” resumed Frank, with a sigh.

“But I don’t understand why he’d enter their camp when he could have gotten a lot of much better grub right here in ours,” said Bluff, shaking his head.

“Well, you see, he’s evidently afraid of our guns; and, perhaps, he happened to know that they had none over yonder,” explained Frank.

“But is that reasonable? Would a crazy man stop for such a little thing as that? It strikes me this raid on their eating department looks like a set-up job.”

“There now, Bluff, you’ve set me to thinking again. I neglected to tell you all that happened. When the hairy monster was making off with the basket, one of the boys started after him; and then and there a shower of stones and dirt came down from above, and fell all around him. After that there was a quick scattering,” remarked Frank.

“Evidently the wild man had a friend close by; he wasn’t alone then. Say, perhaps he’s formed a league with those ugly hoboes. They’re all a hungry lot, and ready to steal anything that comes along in the way of grub.”

“Again you may be right, Bluff. If you keep on guessing I’m sure we’ll know all about the whole business soon,” laughed Frank.

“But how about that other scheme of yours?” asked Bluff.

“What’s that—the trip to town?”

“Yes. Haven’t changed your mind about it, eh, Frank?” asked the other.

“Are you willing to make the attempt?” queried Frank, promptly.

“Try me, that’s all. Now that the old moon’s up it will be just fun. I can make it in a little time, and hunt up the sheriff. Why, the lot of us may even be back here by morning, boys,” replied Bluff, enthusiastically.

He always went into anything with his whole soul, though perhaps his ardor might cool sooner than the grim determination of Frank, or even Jerry.

“That would be fine. Well, since you don’t object, suppose you get the canoe ready. Will and I will remain to watch the camp, because we seem to be surrounded by a raft of enemies, all eager to do us a bad turn if they can. With Jerry missing, the case looks serious, and something must be done to round these bad men up.”

Bluff immediately jumped up and hurried over to where the three canoes were fastened together with the chain and padlocks. He proceeded to get his own boat free from all entanglements, and presently had it launched upon the water.

Then he came back for the paddle and to receive any parting instructions Frank might see fit to give him.

“Make reasonably good time, Bluff, but don’t push yourself, mind. There’s no such great hurry as all that. When you get to town go right away to police headquarters and see if you can find Mr. Dodd.”

“What if he happens to be away?” asked Bluff, wishing to be prepared for any emergency that might chance to arise.

“Then wait as long as you can for him. Should you get tired in the end, leave a letter to be delivered as soon as he shows up; then return to us here. It may be possible, even as you hint, that the sheriff is away hunting the woods to the south for those two rascally, thievish hoboes. That’s all, Bluff. Good-by, and good luck!”

Bluff shook hands with each of his chums. Then he gave his canoe a push that started it going out, sprang in over the stern with the accurate balance of an expert, picked up his paddle and commenced his moonlight cruise back to town.

Frank and Will stood there watching him as long as they could see the dark object upon the moonlit water of the lake; then they turned and silently entered the camp once more.

From somewhere out upon the great stretch of water came the strange cry of a loon that had lingered ere going to its northern summer home. The sound was particularly mournful, it seemed to Frank.

“Can he make it, do you think?” asked Will, who seemed unusually worried to-night; for all these stories about wonderful chances which he had lost had begun to work upon his mind.

“Without the slightest doubt. Why not? There’s no sea running, the wind has died away to a whisper, and the moon is bright. Why, Bluff would like nothing better than a circuit of the entire lake at such a time,” replied Frank.

“I was just wondering whether anything might get after him on the water, that’s all,” remarked the other.

“Chuck that sort of talk. Don’t be a pessimist, Will. Of course he can make it, and, perhaps, as he says, they may all be here by morning, ready to gather in those clever rascals,” declared Frank, stoutly.

“But why do you suppose they ever came here to Wildcat Island to hide?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. There’s that Waddy Walsh you speak about—since he has lived here he possibly knows something about this place. Then again they may have heard about the wild man, and how the island is shunned by every one in the neighborhood. In that case, you see, it would offer a splendid hiding-place for a couple of men trying to escape the sheriff.”

“Frank, you just seem to hit on the right thing. That must be the fact. And our coming here rather upset their plans,” said Will.

“Yes, but it gave them a supper last night. They must have been too hurried in their flight to lay in any stock of food. Perhaps they intended going across to the mainland from time to time, and stealing chickens from the farmers.”

“I’ll be jiggered if I can see how there could be any connection between those scamps and that wild man with the hairy hide. Perhaps it was an ape, and he has a mate on the island. Would you shoot him if you saw him, Frank?”

“H’m, that depends. Certainly not unless I thought my life was in danger. I say that, because I really believe myself that it is a human being. And I have a little suspicion that is hardly strong enough as yet to mention, but which I intend to think over. But let us settle down and take things as comfortable as we can. I’ll stand watch for a while, and then let you take my place. Lie down and rest, Will.”

CHAPTER XV—PLAYING THE GAME

“Hello! Frank!”

“What now?” and the one addressed sat up suddenly, wide awake it seemed.

“It’s morning,” said Will, “and I’m tired of keeping watch, that’s all.”

Frank laughed good-naturedly.

“That’s quite enough, old fellow. Time I was up and about, for this promises to be a day that we may mark with a white stone in the log of our outing. The sun is going to get in sight presently. No signs of Bluff coming back?”

“He hasn’t arrived. I didn’t look out over the lake yet. Seems to be something of a haze, or morning fog on the water, so you can’t see very far,” replied Will.

Frank stepped to where he could have a clear, unobstructed view up the lake. As his chum had said, there were patches of fog rising off the water, but this was vanishing rapidly. Already one could see for quite some distance.

“See anything, brother?” called out Will, who was already beginning to put the coffee in the pot.

He had been on duty for several hours, and felt a bit hungry. Boys can eat six times a day when in the woods, for the open air seems to develop most tremendous appetites.

“Nothing except the solitary old loon that kept up such a screeching last night,” replied the lookout, shading his eyes with his hand, the better to look.

“I don’t like that. Hope nothing has happened to poor old Bluff.”

“There you go again. What could happen to him? He’s a cracking good swimmer, and even if he had an upset, which is most unlikely, he would hang to his canoe. The boat couldn’t sink with metallic air-chambers at both ends,” answered Frank.

“But surely he’s had plenty of time to get there and back?”

“Granted; but you heard what I told him—to wait for a reasonable time if he found the sheriff away. No doubt Mr. Dodd is out searching high and low for the very fellows we know to be here on Wildcat Island. Give Bluff more time. Take my word for it, he will show up when he gets good and ready, if not with the posse, then alone. Bluff doesn’t like to be left out in the cold when there’s anything of a rumpus going on. Want some help getting breakfast, Will?”

“Perhaps so, unless you are contented to eat cold boiled rice; we’ve got plenty and to spare of that dish,” answered the novice cook, with a grin.

“I rather think that would be a poor breakfast dish. The stomach wants something warm about this time. Are all the eggs that we brought gone?” asked Frank.

“I saw several in the coffee can just now. Somebody stuck them in there to keep from breaking them, I guess. How will you have yours?” answered Will.

“Leave it to me, and I’ll see that we have an appetizing mess. An omelet for mine, I think. But after all, I don’t seem so very hungry. Worrying about Jerry has somehow affected my spirits, and a fellow can’t eat much when he feels downcast.”

In spite of all drawbacks both boys did full justice to the breakfast that was spread on the table after a little while. Will kept tabs on whatever his companion did.

“I’m going to learn how to cook everything that one would be apt to want in a camp; and if you don’t mind explaining I’ll begin right now to take a few lessons,” he said as Frank started to break the eggs into a pannikin, preparatory to beating them up, and adding the shredded bits of ham they had left over from the previous day.

When the meal was finished and the dishes and cooking utensils properly washed up, Frank sat down to wait for Bluff to appear up the lake, while Will vanished inside the tent to bother with his films.

He had brought along an apparatus whereby he could develop these, no matter as to the time or conditions—daylight being just the same as darkness.

Frank heard him talking to himself inside the tent, but paid no attention to what he was saying, for at that moment he noticed a moving object up the lake, which he really believed might be the canoe of his chum, Bluff, returning alone.

If this proved to be the case another disappointment awaited the campers, and the rescue of poor Jerry might again be postponed to an unknown time. The sheriff being away, no one could tell when he would receive the letter Bluff was to leave for his perusal, and hence it might be many hours ere a move was made.

By that time the hoboes could have quitted the island and lost themselves in the dense woods of the mainland, while Jerry’s hiding-place would remain unknown, so that he might even die of neglect.

The coming of Will broke in upon Frank’s gloomy communion.

Apparently Will had some reason for excitement. He was holding a developed film in his hand as he rushed up to Frank.

“What do you think it was set my flashlight trap off last night?” he demanded.

“A ’coon, doubtless—that seems most likely,” answered the other, carelessly.

“Guess again,”

“’Possum—wildcat—surely not a bear, though I did hear quite a scramble over in that quarter at the time? Go on and tell me,” said Frank.

For answer Will held the film up so that it was between the light and the eyes of his companion.

“It’s been in the hypo, and is fixed, but not thoroughly washed; but you can see for yourself,” he exclaimed triumphantly.

Frank gave an exclamation.

“Why, you caught a man!”

“Yes, and his face is turned exactly toward the camera. The snap made him look, and with the flash he was indelibly impressed on the film. What is more, if you look at it on the other side and partly turned away, you can see the positive of his face as plain as day. It’s Waddy, all right. I got him!” laughed the photographer, in glee.

“Well, that’s worth something. I’m beginning to realize the tremendous possibilities of a camera at times. That evidence would be accepted in court as conclusive. Go, and wash the film carefully, Will. If you fail to get a few great scenes, you don’t lose everything, it seems.”

“Isn’t that the Peters tribe setting sail, Frank?”

“Why it is, as sure as you live. I wonder they stayed so late. They must be pretty hungry by this time if that educated ape got away with all they had. Perhaps we might have made a master stroke if we’d gone over this morning with an offering of some bacon, coffee and such things. Too bad neither of us thought of it before.”

Will looked strangely at his companion. He could not wholly understand the impulses that guided the actions of the other. His experience in the world had not been as varied as that of the boy from Maine, or he might have realized what was meant; though possibly the act of kindness might, after all, have been wasted on those tough young citizens.

“They’re going home, all right, and good riddance. If we could only get rid of the balance of undesirable people on this same island, there might be a chance for us to finish up our outing in peace,” he remarked bitterly.

“I hope they don’t give Bluff any trouble,” said Frank, as if musing.

“Bluff—is he in sight, then?” demanded his comrade, eagerly.

“Yes, over there, and coming,” replied Frank, pointing to the advancing canoe.

“Here are your glasses. Suppose you take a look and see.”

Will handed over the marine glasses as he spoke. As he adjusted them to his eyes, Frank swept one glance at the coming Bluff. Then he turned his attention to the departing disgusted campers.

“Something has been going on among those fellows, I declare,” he announced.

“What do you mean?” asked his companion, in surprise.

“They seem to have been up against it, or else having a fight among themselves. I can see a couple who have bandages about their heads, and one seems to be holding his arm mighty tenderly. I believe it is broken.”

“You don’t say? Well, come to think of it, I do remember hearing something of a commotion a while back, but thought they were only having their usual rough-house time. Please let me look, Frank.”

A minute later he uttered an exclamation.

“What now?” it was Frank’s turn to ask.

“Seems strange to me. I think there must be one of them lying down in the bottom of the boat,” returned Will.

“That would indicate something pretty serious. Perhaps they’ve had a fight with those hoboes, or it may have been our wild man. But what makes you think such a thing, Will?”

“I counted seven of them when they came, and so did Bluff. Now there are only six in sight, and as you say, three of them are fit for the hospital. Where can the seventh be?”

“Perhaps the hoboes got him, just as they did Jerry. If so, what under the sun can their scheme be? Why load down with a variety of Centerville’s leading citizens when they find it so hard to provide food for themselves?”

“I give it up. The conundrum is too much for me. But I think my idea is more apt to cover the truth, and that the seventh boy is laid out in the boat, wounded, or perhaps dead,” continued Will, in an awe-struck tone.

“Oh! I hope not the latter. They’re a rough bunch, but they’ve had little opportunity to learn better, and we mustn’t be too hard on them. Such fellows can do things that would be little short of a crime for those of us who have decent homes and indulgent parents. Bluff seems to be coming along rather slowly, don’t you think?”

As Frank said this his companion turned the glasses upon the canoe.

“Something has happened to him. Perhaps his paddle has broken; I remember it gave way while we were coming here, and he spliced it yesterday. Yes, that must be what ails him,” he exclaimed.

“That’s too bad,” observed Frank, looking at the other boats, as though wondering whether it might be worth while to launch one, and speed out on the lake to the assistance of the chum who was coming.

But the distance was too great, and he could not hope to reach the scene before whatever was fated to happen had occurred.

“Why do you say that Bluff could get here with only a piece of his paddle?” remarked Will.

“If those ugly chaps let him. See, they have already changed their course several points. They mean to intercept him.”

“You don’t think they’d bother with him, do you?” cried Will.

“I’m afraid they’re in a bad humor, and ready to tackle anything that offers a chance to work off old scores. If Bluff only had his paddle in decent order he could laugh at them. How foolish of him to take only his single blade along.”

Frank now clapped the glasses to his eyes again.

“Look at that, will you? Why, the breezy chap doesn’t even think it worth while to turn and run, or even try to slip past. He’s coming directly on, and in another minute will run slap into that rowboat, loaded with toughs. I’m afraid there’s going to be a bad spill for our headstrong chum,” he sighed.

“Perhaps he is only holding himself in reserve, and means to make a spurt for it at the very last second. Bluff is smart, I tell you. He knows what those boys are up to, and is far from being asleep. Tell me what he is doing, Frank. I can hear them shouting angrily at him now. Oh! I wish we were out there to help him.”

Will even forgot his natural timidity, and had the chance been given him, would doubtless have proven a hero in defense of his chum.

“He seems to have stopped paddling altogether. Now he reaches down into the bottom of his canoe after something. He is aiming it at them—it’s his paddle—no it isn’t either—as sure as you live, he’s got that repeating-gun of his!”

Even as the excited Frank spoke, over the water they heard a distant voice shout:

“Hands up! you sharks, or I’ll pepper you good and hard. Six shots I’ve got here, as fast as I can pump the lever. Hands up! I say, every one of you!”

CHAPTER XVI—SIGNS THAT SPELLED TROUBLE

“Look! they’re doing it, too, Frank! Oh! what luck! Good for Bluff!” ejaculated Will, hardly able to control himself in his excitement.

“Just as sure as you live, they are. They knew Bluff meant business when he said that. Why, even the wounded fellow has his one well arm raised. It’s great!”

Frank generously handed the glasses to his comrade, whose hands trembled so that he could hardly hold them to his eyes.

“What’s he doing now, Will?”

“Seems to be holding that blessed gun with one hand, and paddling softly with the other. Ain’t he the real thing, though? And once we doubted whether he would be just the right sort of fellow to be a member of the club. I’m proud of good old Bluff, and that’s a fact!” cried Will.

“So say we all of us. He must be past the other boat by now; isn’t he?”

“Yes, and has laid the gun down, but where he can grab it up in a hurry if necessary. Pet and his crowd have resumed rowing, too, as if going ashore. They don’t seem anxious to call out at Bluff just now. Jerry used to say that terrible gun would frighten game to death; but even Jerry would have to admit that it’s worth while, if he could only be here, to see this lovely sight. Oh! why didn’t I have my camera ready? What a good picture that would have been,” sighed the official photographer of the club.

“Too far away to make out what was going on, my boy. But I only wish Jerry could have been here to see it. That would relieve me of my anxiety,” said Frank.

The canoe kept moving straight toward them, while the heavily laden boat continued over the lake toward the western shore.

Not even a derisive howl was sent after Bluff. He seemed to have effectually cowed the rowdies. Perhaps it was the last straw that broke the camel’s back, and they had really gone through so much lately that the limit had been reached.

Bluff presently landed directly beside his chums.

“Well done, old fellow!” said Will, hastening to pat him on the back.

“It was as fine a piece of bluff as I ever put up,” grinned the paddler as he stepped ashore, holding the redoubtable gun in his hand.

“How so?” demanded Will, curious to know.

“Why, the gun isn’t in a condition to use. I had it at a locksmith’s, and thought I’d bring it along if he had mended it. Said he had, but didn’t have time to finish putting all the parts together again. I said I could do that easily enough in camp, and fetched it along,” replied the other, chuckling.

“Then it wasn’t loaded at all?” asked Will.

“Of course not; but then they didn’t know that, you see. It was a case of where ignorance was bliss. Answered the purpose all right. You noticed they let me alone.”

“Now I see where you got your name; but that was a time when bluffing was worth while. Come and sit down here and have some breakfast,” remarked Frank.

He was looking closely at the returned wanderer, as if trying to decide whether he brought good news or bad.

“Tell me first, have you heard anything from Jerry?” demanded the other.

“Not the least thing. But I’ve been making up a plan that it seems we will have to follow, since you come back alone,” observed Frank.

Of course this was an invitation for Bluff to unload, and tell what he had accomplished besides getting his gun just before starting back.

“Sheriff out hunting the hobo thieves, just as you feared. No one could say as to when he would return. Might be in an hour, and again, perhaps, it would not be for the balance of the day,” he began.

“You waited until you got tired and then left a note for him?” asked Frank.

“Just what I did, fellows. The whole community is aroused. Seems like these two hoboes must be yeggmen for keeps. At any rate several robberies occurred on the night following the affair on the steamer. A farmer reported that his place was entered and some money and other things taken. Then the thieves broke open the storage warehouse over in Newtonport, and rummaged through a lot of stuff. No one knows what they took there, but they left everything in a great upset. The local militia company in our town is out helping the sheriff hunt!”

“Say, things seem to be stewing at a great rate,” gasped Will.

“And to think that the nervy chaps responsible for it all are here on this very island near us. Yes, more than that, we’ve had experiences with them, and even now they undoubtedly are holding our poor chum for ransom, or some other purpose,” declared Frank, shaking his head.

“Do you think Mr. Dodd will come?” asked Will.

“He certainly will, as soon as he knows. Why wouldn’t he when the men he’s on the lookout for are here waiting for him?” replied Bluff, beginning to eat.

“You said you were thinking up a plan, Frank?” suggested Will, turning eagerly to the chum upon whom the rest were accustomed to rely in emergencies.

“Well, I leave it to the rest of you whether we do it or not. The conditions are peculiar. We want to search for poor Jerry, and yet if we leave our camp unguarded, those savages may steal the whole outfit. Then again, Will naturally doesn’t want to stay here alone while Bluff and myself do the hunting. I can see only one way of fixing it.”

“All right. I’m willing to do anything you say,” remarked the one who had a cup of coffee up to his lips, and was drinking the contents with supreme pleasure.

“Ditto here, Frank,” from Will.

“This idea I had was to break up our camp, stow all the stuff in the canoes, and then have Will paddle far out on the lake with the whole outfit, where he could wait to see what happened. Nothing could reach him there, and we would be free to follow up our plan. How about that, fellows?” asked Frank.

Will glanced out on the lake.

“All right. It looks like it would be quiet enough, and if a big wind does come up, I can paddle the string over to the shore and get under the lee,” he said.

“Call it settled, then. And now, while Bluff is finishing his breakfast, you and I can be taking down the tents and stowing them away,” observed Frank.

“Oh! I’m about through now, but give me a little time to get my gun together, boys. It may come in handy, who knows,” remarked Bluff.

“This is kind of tough, taking down tents when our little outing is hardly half through with,” complained Will, as he labored pulling up tent pegs.

“Oh! it may be only temporary. If Mr. Dodd comes and rounds up those hoboes as we expect, there’s nothing to prevent our pitching camp again right on the old spot, and enjoying another two days or so of this business,” came from Frank, who was under the falling canvas, working like a beaver.

Things were quickly accomplished. The more one camps the easier it is to stow things away in their proper places; and Frank was always particular about doing this, as a labor-saving device.

Hardly an hour after the coming of Bluff and the space was bare. All the “dunnage” had been snugly packed in two of the canoes, while Will was ready to enter the other and convoy the string out on the bosom of Lake Camalot.

They made him take Jerry’s gun as a means of protection. On his part, Will entrusted his precious camera to the tender mercies of Bluff, in hopes that the other might find some chance to snap off a few striking pictures while engaged in his search for Jerry.

“And it isn’t like your gun, remember, for it’s loaded,” he remarked.

“Well, my repeater is now. And perhaps when Jerry learns what a part it has had in his rescue he may stop sneering at it as a modern joke,” said Bluff.

After Will had started, and gone some little distance out on the lake, the two others left the deserted camping-ground.

“Where away first?” asked Bluff, willing to leave these matters to his friend, whose experience up in Maine was apt to prove valuable now.

“Let’s make along the beach for the place where those chaps were,” replied Frank.

“Oh! I see. You think we may find the trail of the wild man there?”

“I’m curious to see what it looks like, that’s all. After that, I think of making for the place where I lost Jerry. We’ve had no rain since, and it seems to me we ought to take up the trail at the place I lost it. I’ve since figured out how I came to go wrong that time, and if we have good luck, we ought to be able to follow it straight to the place they’re staying at.”

It took them but a short time to reach the late camp of Pet Peters and his cronies, which was full of signs of a hasty departure.

“I wonder what could have happened here?” mused Frank, as he looked around.

“Seems like they must have been having a high old time. There’s a remnant of a hat, and I declare if this isn’t piece of a coat sleeve. It was a fight, Frank, I tell you!” exclaimed Bluff, convincingly.

“Just as I suspected, but, of course, we may never know what caused it, and whether they were just indulging in a little racket among themselves or with the two hoboes. They had little left that would induce those rascals to attack them, seems to me,” remarked Frank.

“Listen! what was that?” suddenly asked Bluff.

Both boys stood motionless, with heads cocked on one side, straining their ears to catch a repetition of the sound that had come to them.

Quickly they heard it again.

“Say, it seems like a groan to me,” whispered Bluff, with eyes aglow.

“Just what I thought. There! that time I located it, Bluff. Come over here. Good gracious! what do you think of that?”

CHAPTER XVII—DEEPER INTO THE JUNGLE

“Why, it’s a boy!” exclaimed the horrified Bluff, as he stared at the object from which the sounds proceeded.

“And tied to a tree, too! You know him, Bluff; look again!” remarked Frank.

“Say, it’s sure Tom Somers, one of Pet Peters’ crowd. What under the sun does it mean, Frank?” exclaimed the other, startled and mystified.

“Just what I said. They must have had a monkey-and-parrot time among themselves, and the Tom Somers’ section got the worst of it. You see the result—they’ve gone off and left this fellow fastened here as a punishment for his rebellion.”

“But—this ain’t out West, or in the Cannibal Islands. Wake me up and tell me if I’m seeing things. What! do you mean to say those savages would leave Tom here to starve to death?” gasped Bluff.

“Oh! no, some of them would come back by to-night or to-morrow to let him off. I imagine this is only some of Pet’s miserable work. He’s a cruel monster. I thought Andy Lasher bad enough, but it turned out that he had a speck of good in him, and Jerry touched it when he saved his life that stormy night. But Pet is mean and revengeful, a sneak, and a coward at heart.”

“There. I believe he has just discovered us,” said Bluff.

The boy who was fastened to the tree gave a groan, and then called out:

“Say, fellers, you wouldn’t go and leave me here like this would you? Set me free anyway, and I kin shift for myself somehow; but it’s tough to be tied up like a dog, an’ all because I knocked Pet down when he called me a name I won’t take off any man or boy. Jest slice a knife over these ropes, won’t you, please?”

He did not whine, but asked the favor in a fairly decent way.

“Of course we will, Tom Somers. You’ve always been an enemy of mine, but that’s no reason we should leave you like this. There you are!”

Frank purposely allowed his chum to do the cutting. He knew that there had in the past been more or less bad blood between these two lads, and he had in mind a possible repetition of the singular friendship that had sprung up between Jerry and Andy Lasher after the time when the former saved the life of the town bully.

“That’s ‘white’ of you, Bluff, and I ain’t the feller to forget it, neither,” was what the late prisoner said as his bonds fell away.

“You look bruised more or less, so I take it there must have been quite a fight here before they went away?” remarked Frank, questioningly.

The other grinned, though the effort must have pained him not a little, on account of the many scratches and gouges on his face.

“Did they? Well, I should smile, pardner. I only had one husky chap to stand by me, against five; but we pretty nigh cinched things. Pet Peters said he’d get even with me by leavin’ me here a spell, to tempt that wild man. But I had hopes some of you fellers might top the rise and give me a helpin’ hand.”

“Oh! I remember now, you’re the chap who was out West for a year herding cattle. I notice it in your speech,” said Frank, smiling.

“It gets in the blood, when you mingle some with them gents. I try to break off when the fellers kid me, but it crops out when I ain’t thinkin’. But say, it was ‘white’ of you to do this, an’ I ain’t got any call to ask favors of your crowd either.”

A sudden thought struck Frank.

“See here, you say you’re grateful; will you prove it?” he asked.

Tom Somers thrust out his chest as he immediately replied:

“I’m a maverick if I don’t; try me!”

“Then listen. You heard me say that our chum Jerry had strangely vanished yesterday while we were in the woods. I have good reason to believe those two hoboes laid hold of him, for some reason or other,” Frank started.

“Ransom—the old, old game, perhaps?” suggested the other, quickly.

“Well, I hardly think it is quite so bad as that; but they wanted to hold him as a sort of hostage, perhaps, threatening us if we didn’t get off this island. No matter what their reason, they’ve got our chum, and now we mean to try and release him. That’s why we’re here.”

“And you want me to help? ’Course I will, and only too glad to have the chance. If it’s a trail to foller, why I picked up lots of points out there on the Texas plains, and just you set me on the track,” said Tom, pulling on a tattered coat that had been taken from him ere he was fastened to the tree.

“Then let’s begin right here and see if there is any trail where your grub basket went off last night!” remarked Frank.

At that Tom started and turned a little pale.

“You said the hoboes, pard, and not that man-monkey,” he stammered.

Plainly he had conceived a great fear regarding the mysterious object that had appeared in the camp, and vanished with their provisions.

Frank laughed.

“Make your mind easy, I’m not intending to follow him. We expect to go to the place where my pard vanished yesterday, and take up the trail there. I followed it a while, but night was coming on and I lost it. You may do better, Tom,” he said.

“But you mentioned that hairy monster, didn’t you?” queried the other, uneasily.

“I only want to examine the track he left, so as to settle in my mind whether it was really a crazy human being or a big ape. Come over here and let’s see.”

“Huh! none of our fellers ever thought of lookin’ around. A snake-whip couldn’t a-coaxed ’em over this way. Like as not they expected the varmint was lyin’ in the bushes, waitin’ to jump out again. But I don’t pull leather when I give my word.”

He threw himself prostrate on the ground. In less than three minutes an exclamation announced that he had found what he sought. Frank dropped beside him.

“There she is, and a jim-dandy of a track, too, plain as the hoof marks of a cayuse around a snubbing post!” he exclaimed, pointing.

“Just as I thought, a man’s shoe, and an unusually big one. That settles one thing in my mind. It is no escaped ape that runs wild on this island. It may be a lunatic that has got away from the asylum over at Merrick, or——”

Frank did not finish his sentence, but nodded his head as though the thought that had flashed into his mind pleased him.

“That all here?” asked the other, a little nervously, although apparently relieved to learn that it was not a wild animal he had seen on the preceding night.

“Yes, I’m entirely satisfied. Now let us find the place where those Indian mounds are, and we can get on the trail without delay,” answered Frank, leading the way.

It took him fully an hour to accomplish this. First they had to return to the spot at the foot of the bluff where the canoeists’ camp had lately stood. Here his own trail was taken up, and Tom Somers proved to the satisfaction of the others that he did know considerable about following tracks through thickets and woods, for he led them unerringly until finally Frank saw the two mounds.

“There they are,” he said, in a low voice.

Bluff pushed his gun forward menacingly.

“Where?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

“Oh! I mean the two Indian mounds, not the hoboes. Come over here and see the trail made as they went away,” replied his chum, quickly.

When the boy who had spent a year on a Texas ranch punching cattle saw the marks, he announced it as his opinion that they had been made by two parties besides Jerry.

“I reckon your chum was snoozing some when they jumped his claim. He kicked and put up a right husky fight, but they was too much for him, and choked him off. I reckon one of them must a-been a boy, and the other a big man, judgin’ from the marks. Then, when they had reduced him to quiet they just snaked him off.”

“That’s what I thought—the big brute carried Jerry on his back, for there are no signs of my chum’s footprints around. Now, let’s start off. I’m anxious to know the worst, no matter what it is!” cried Frank.

Bluff brought up the rear. It was anything but light under the dense growth of trees and clinging vines. At times the tracker had to get down close to the ground in order to see what he wanted.

Bluff had slung his gun over his shoulder by the strap, and was holding Will’s camera in his hands, wondering if he had not been foolish to bring such a silly thing along with him on so serious an errand.

The deeper they penetrated into the interior of the island the denser the undergrowth seemed to become, until at times it was only with the utmost difficulty they pushed their way through. Others having gone ahead of them made it a trifle easier, perhaps; at least Tom Somers said so in a whisper.

“Perhaps we’re gettin’ clost to the place, now, pardners; so we’d better take our time an’ not hustle too much. Don’t speak above a whisper, either,” he said, as he parted the bushes in front.

Even as he did so Frank heard him utter a low exclamation, not of fear so much as of disgust. One look told the other what it meant, and he, too, feared that their plans would all be disarranged through an accidental meeting with a resident of the jungle, who seemed disposed to dispute their further progress.

There was the biggest wildcat Bluff had ever seen in all his life squatted on the low limb of a tree, growling angrily, and with it claws digging into the bark after the manner of a cat that is getting ready to jump, and will not be stopped!

True, Frank could easily have raised his gun and shot the ferocious creature dead in its tracks; but such an explosion must warn the enemy of their presence in the vicinity, and effectually prevent any surprise.

It looked like a serious problem, and yet it must be solved immediately unless they wanted to experience an encounter at close quarters with that fury.

“Hold up! give me a chance. Duck your heads, fellows; I’m going to flashlight the critter!” exclaimed Bluff. And even as he spoke, there was a sudden startling illumination that lit up the immediate vicinity like day.

CHAPTER XVIII—UNDER THE CABIN WALL

“So-long!” exclaimed the ex-cowboy, as he dropped to the ground.

Frank did not know just then whether Tom Somers was trying to evade an expected attack from the big cat, or had been startled and alarmed by the suspicious “click” behind him, instantly followed by that electric flash.

“He’s gone!” whispered Bluff, excitedly.

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. The day had been saved by Will’s inoffensive camera after all, for there was no alarm, and they had escaped an encounter with the poisonous claws of that beast of prey.

“And I bet I got a dandy picture of him, too, for Will. Say, this isn’t so bad, after all. Perhaps there can be some fun hunting with a camera,” pursued Bluff.

“Silence, Bluff. Let’s lie here a bit and listen. I hope we didn’t happen to be so close to their camp as to let them see that flash through the trees,” whispered Frank, dropping down.

Five minutes later they once more began to creep forward. At the suggestion of Tom Somers, all of them were now on their knees, Bluff, as before, bringing up the rear.

It was very thrilling work, and Bluff found himself trembling with excitement as he trailed after his companions.

“Sure he’s a peach at this sort of business, and it was a bully streak of luck when we ran across the poor wretch tied up to a tree,” he was saying to himself, as he watched Tom Somers gliding along, keeping an eye on the ground, and sometimes almost poking his nose against the earth in order to solve a knotty problem.

He hoped they would run up against no more bobcats. While fortune had smiled upon them on that last occasion, perhaps the same good luck might not always be their portion; and Bluff found no desire in his heart for a tussle at close quarters with the owner of a set of claws such as these beasts sported.

Frank and the other fellow seemed to be conferring in low whispers, and hence he crept up to learn what was in the wind.

“See anything, Frank?” he asked eagerly, as he pushed in beside his chum.

“Softly, Bluff. Yes, if you look through this little opening you can see it, too.”

“Why, it’s a house—a sort of old cabin, more like,” said Bluff, as he peeped.

“That’s just what it is. Now, search your memory, both of you—do you ever recollect hearing about any one living on Wildcat Island?” asked Frank.

“Sure I do, now that you ask. There was a queer man once who used to live like a hermit here. That was years ago. They found his skeleton in his cabin. Nobody ever knew what he died of, but it was alone, excepting for his dog, that ran wild till he was shot by a duck-shooter,” whispered Bluff.

“Glory! this here place is some on thrills,” grumbled Tom Somers.

“Never mind the things that are dead and gone. We have more to fear from those that are living. It looks as though the tramps have taken up their quarters in the deserted shack of the old hermit, doesn’t it, Tom?” asked Frank, in the ear of the other.

“It sure does, for a fact. Like as not the whole outfit is quartered there right now. And somehow I got a suspicion that our grub meandered this way, too. Seems like I see a familiar Boston baked-bean can lying there by the door, where they hustled it out after eating the contents.”

Frank made no reply to this insinuation. Whatever he thought he kept to himself.

“Oh! I wonder is Jerry there?” said Bluff, longingly, but managing to keep his tones lowered.

“That is something we mean to discover before a great while. I leave the manner of our approach entirely to Tom here,” declared Frank.

The outcast from Pet’s camp had proven his ability to be of great assistance to them, and Frank believed in encouraging a fellow. His words doubtless gave the other more or less satisfaction. When a boy feels that he is wholly trusted, he is very apt to do his level best.

“First of all I reckon there’s a better way to crawl up close to the shack than this one we’re on. So let’s trail around to the other side, fellers,” he said.

They succeeded in reaching the point he had in view. Even Bluff could see the wisdom of the move. The undergrowth was much more dense here, and extended quite up to the wall of the dilapidated cabin.

They could see that the new occupants had done some little rough tinkering in order to make a roof that would shed water reasonably well. From this it was easy to conclude that Waddy Walsh and his partner did not know just how long they might have to utilize this place as a hide-out, and thought it best to be ready to stand a rainy siege such as the Spring was apt to produce at any day.

Frank felt Bluff clawing at his legs. There was something in the act to tell him his chum was desirous of speaking to him, and he allowed the other to pull up alongside so they could put their heads together.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear it?” queried Bluff, as if surprised.

“What? I heard nothing.”

“All that whistling on the lake. Sounded to me like that little tug, Rainy Day, that tows the lumber down to the outlet. She was close by, too,” replied Bluff.

“It must have been away off, for I didn’t hear a bit of it. Perhaps it was the tug, too; but she belongs up at the other end of the lake. What could bring her down here?”

“I had an idea that perhaps the sheriff and his posse might be aboard her,” ventured Bluff, and he was instantly seized by his comrade.

“That’s just what it meant. I hope Will’s met them and told how the land lies here. If that is true it means the beginning of the end?” whispered Frank.

“And perhaps we may be back in our good old camp by night time, who knows?” answered the other, joyfully.

Still, neither of them had the slightest thought of relaxing their efforts with regard to investigating the interior of that cabin, and ascertaining whether their comrade was being detained there against his will, perhaps in bonds, that cut his flesh cruelly.

Tom had noted the fact that the others were holding a little powwow, and hence he did not push on so as to leave them. In fact, Tom was not at all particular about quitting the society of these stout-hearted fellows even for a minute, while in such a ghostly neighborhood. Tom believed in spirits, and the story Bluff had told about that skeleton was ever before him.

When they began to advance once more, he also started off.

They were now so close to the cabin that if any one had been talking aloud inside those old moss-grown walls the boys could not have failed to hear the sounds.

There had been a window, but it was closed with a bunch of dead grass, and, of course, none of the boys thought of trying to remove this obstacle in connection with their obtaining a view of the interior. The only other opening, no doubt, was the door, which was allowed to remain wide open all the time for air and light.

Dare one of them crawl around the corner of the cabin and try to look in at that entrance? The risk seemed almost too much. Still, Frank remembered that they had two guns among them, while, so far as they knew, the hoboes possessed none; at least they had shown nothing of the sort thus far.

He had been thinking this over, however, and concluded that it hardly stood to reason that such desperate characters as these two, one an escaped reform school inmate and the other a yeggman tramp, would be entirely without some means of defence. Perhaps one of them might have a revolver which he had up to now kept out of sight for some reason.

Tom was pulling at Frank’s trousers entreatingly. Catching his attention, he made a gesture with his hand, as talking was now out of the question.

Following the line of his pointing finger, Frank saw what had attracted the eye of the boy who had been West. Some animal had for a time used the hut as a lodging-place, and as the door at the time may have been closed, had dug a tunnel under the wall at the back of the place.

Possibly the men inside had filled the hole up beyond the wall, but they had paid no attention to that which lay beyond.

Frank caught the idea instantly. It was to begin to tunnel under the wall, drawing away the earth piecemeal until an opening was made, when one of them might crawl through and make discoveries.

The idea appealed to him somehow or other, and, handing his gun silently to Tom, he set to work lifting handfuls of loose dirt, and gradually scooping out quite a hole. It was easy work because the place had only recently been filled in. As he worked he wondered what sort of an animal had made the tunnel under the wall; perhaps a wildcat, or it might have been a ’coon, hardly a bear, though such big game could be occasionally met with around Lake Camalot, especially along the headquarters of Lumber Run up at the other end of the body of water.

The minutes passed in this way. Several times Frank caught some sound beyond the wall, but could not make out what it might mean. He felt positive, however, that it was the home of the hoboes he had reached, and not a hiding-place of that strange creature so like a gigantic ape, but which wore shoes like a man.

Now he felt the earth growing lighter, as though he might be coming close to an end of his strange task. He was still digging away, eager to learn whether his plan could be carried out, when without the slightest warning something that moved came in contact with his flesh, and he felt his fingers seized by a human hand!

CHAPTER XIX—HOLDING BLUFF IN

Frank involuntarily tried to draw his hand back.

The grasp of the unknown, however, was too strenuous, and he could not do so unless he created such a disturbance as must have aroused any sleeper nearby. Besides, a wild suspicion had flashed through his mind. Perhaps this was his chum Jerry, trying to escape from his place of confinement.

He squeezed the fingers that clutched his. It was a sign manual used in the secret society to which both of them belonged in the Academy at Centerville. To his great delight the secret grip was returned immediately.

Then it was Jerry! He was alive, and even at that moment endeavoring to get away from those who were holding him against his will!

Frank felt like shouting aloud, so great a sense of gratitude swept over him; but fortunately he did not give way to such foolishness.

He put his head deep down into the hole he had made and whispered, making just the faintest sound possible:

“Jerry!”

“Frank!” came back like the sighing of the wind up in some of those lofty trees that overhung the lonely cabin with such a bad name.

Then the last doubt vanished. It only remained to get Jerry out of that place as soon as possible. Why, left to himself he seemed able to force his way to freedom, and with what aid they could extend surely only a few minutes would be needed to accomplish it.

Even as he thought thus, he felt his hand violently thrust back. At the same moment there was the sound of heavy voices in the cabin. Evidently one or both of the tramps must have entered the second room and discovered Jerry on his knees engaged in tunneling out.

There was no sound of a blow struck. Had there been, Frank could never have contained himself, but regardless of consequences must have rushed around to where the door lay, and burst into the place.

As it was, he backed away and joined his comrades, who, it can easily be understood, were more than curious to know what all this meant.

“Is he in there?” demanded Bluff, close to the ear of his chum.

“Yes, I whispered his name and he answered by saying mine,” came the thrilling reply.

“Good! good! let’s storm the measly old rookery, and hold up those hoboes at the muzzle of our guns. We’ve got the men, and we’ve got the guns!” said Bluff; but his comrade drew him down again ere he could rush forth.

“Wait! Be cool. This is no time to make mistakes. I thought of that, but they’ve shut the cabin door. Perhaps they begin to suspect some of us are around. It may be they even heard Jerry whisper my name. All we want to do is to see that they do him no injury. After a while the sheriff will be along to take care of these jail-birds, all right,” Frank went on.

He said no more, because they once again began to move farther away from the cabin walls. There was a chance, however, that one of the ferocious inmates might come out to investigate the conditions, so Frank did not want to go so far that he could not hold the fellow up and cause a surrender.

“What can we do now?” asked Bluff, as they crouched in a thick jungle, with the cabin lying on their left, and only some twenty paces off.

“Watch and wait. If one of them comes out we’ll make him a prisoner. The door is there, and no one is likely to escape us. Keep ready for a quick move, both of you,” whispered Frank in return.

“Oh! I saw something moving up in that big tree—the one that is half dead,” came from Tom just then.

“Where at in the tree?” demanded Frank, ready to examine into anything that happened to come before their attention, no matter how odd.

“Say just where that gaping hole lies—about ten feet up. The blame thing’s hollow, that’s a cinch, and some critter’s got a nest in it. Maybe an owl, but I’d rather believe ’twas a cat, or perhaps a real b’ar. Looky, there she is again!”

Each of them had his eyes glued upon the spot indicated in his low-toned communication by the ex-cowboy. There certainly was something moving, for while the light was not very strong at that particular place, still they could see an object projected from the gap.

Quickly it pushed farther out, and there dawned upon their startled vision the same ape-like creature that had terrorized the camp of Pet Peters’ crowd on the previous night. It seemed, as near as they could judge in that uncertain light, to be covered with hair, just as a chimpanzee would be, and its face was in keeping with the remainder of its hideous form.

Bluff and Tom crouched there and shivered as they watched this awesome figure scramble down from its perch by the aid of the broken dead limbs. It dropped lightly on the ground with a grunt, and then scurried off through the undergrowth.

Tom gave a sigh of relief.

“It’s gone, and I’m mighty near the stampedin’ point myself,” he admitted.

“Why, it was that wild man, as sure as fate. Oh! how Will must carry on when he knows I had such a glorious chance to get him, and lacked the nerve,” whispered Bluff, still shaking with excitement, or something else.

“It’s just as good you didn’t,” snickered Frank; “for the sound would have betrayed us to the chaps in the cabin.”

“You seem to be tickled about something—suppose you tell a fellow what you see funny about that awful monster? I’d like to laugh too, but I declare if my lips ain’t frozen stiff. Is it a wild man, or a beast? Why, I tell you his body is covered with reddish hair, and his face, will I ever get it out of my mind?”

Bluff was plainly much excited, but Frank seemed quite cool.

“Never mind. Later on I may tell you something I’ve thought of. But he’s gone, I suppose, and we can consider the cabin again,” replied Frank.

“Why not rush it? Given a log, and I vow Tom and I can knock in that old door just like you’d smash an egg,” pleaded the impatient Bluff.

“That would be poor policy. In the first place those are desperate men, who are wanted for robbery, and they know the jail is fairly itching to hold them. Consequently they’re ready to take all sorts of chances before giving up. I wouldn’t put it past them to fire on us, to wound, at least, if not worse.”

“But look here, they haven’t got any guns, have they?” demanded Bluff.

“We only guessed that they hadn’t, but we can’t be sure. Such ugly customers are hardly likely to go without some means of defense, and Tom here will back me up in that. Besides, they’ve certainly got our chum,” declared Frank, seriously.

“Perhaps you’re right, Frank, but I’d be willing myself to take all the chances in a mix-up with that crowd,” grumbled poor Bluff, who always seemed to be close upon the border of an opportunity to do something, only to have the glorious prize snatched from his hands.

He looked longingly toward the lonely cabin, as though he yearned to have a shy at that ricketty door. According to his mind, once it was down those tramps would be only too glad to throw up their hands, just as Pet Peters and his crowd had done when he covered them on the lake.

Frank himself hardly knew what action to take.

“If I only thought they wouldn’t take it out on poor Jerry, I’d be tempted to let Bluff work his bold little trick. But I’m afraid. I know what such men can do, with a long prison term staring them in the face. Some of them would just as soon he hung for a sheep as a lamb,” he muttered.

“Do you really think they’d hurt Jerry?” asked Bluff, solicitously.

“What do you know of that Waddy Walsh?”

“He was always a cruel chap, that’s a fact. I’ve known him to torture a dog in a terrible way. That was really why he was sent away. Nobody could do anything with him; even the town authorities had to give up the job,” replied Bluff.

“There you are, then. Now, he’s hitched up with a rascal much worse than himself, from all accounts. Think of those bold robberies all around. I tell you that pair make a desperate team, and I shiver to think of what they could do to Jerry if hard pushed. Perhaps, after all, we’d better——”

What Frank was about to suggest was never spoken. Tom Somers jerked his arm to signify that he had better cease whispering; and as Frank twisted his head around to see what had happened to alarm their new comrade, he discovered moving figures approaching from the same quarter they had themselves come out of.

His first thought was that Sheriff Dodd had arrived with his posse. Indeed, it was only with a supreme effort that he refrained from leaping to his feet and wildly beckoning. Then he was glad he had been guilty of no such foolish act, for he learned that this was far from being the truth.

“They’ve come back!” exclaimed Tom, in a low tone, yet plainly disturbed; “looks like they wanted to make sure of me, and had follered us here so as to corral me!”

Then Frank understood. The flight of Pet Peters and his followers had been, after all, something of a bluff, for they had again left the western shore and landed on Wildcat Island; more than that, they were even now creeping toward the cabin, as if bent upon some desperate undertaking!

CHAPTER XX—THE ESCAPE OF JERRY

“One, two, three, four!”

Frank was counting the shadowy figures that came flitting closer, stooping over as they advanced, some carrying cudgels, and others different kinds of weapons as if they expected trouble presently.

“Five, six—what, seven, yes, and eight! Where did they pick up the other two members of the crowd?” he was saying to himself as he gazed from his snug retreat.

Then he noticed that a couple were armed with guns. This gave him a clue which he easily followed to a logical conclusion. On the western shore of the lake Pet and his disgruntled followers must have run across a couple of their cronies, who were apparently out hunting, though the law allowed of no shooting of game at this time of year.

These fellows may even have been acting with the sheriff, who had offered a certain reward for the apprehension of the hobo thieves. Upon exchanging stories it may have been decided to return to the island in a bunch, and make a bold attempt to round up the tramps, who were believed to be without any guns. That reward would look big in the eyes of these fellows.

No doubt the presence of the old cabin was known to these boys, and they had guessed that their quarry might be found hiding there in the heart of the jungle.

Frank laughed to himself at this new complication. It began to look as if Waddy and his pal would soon be between a lot of fires that must scorch them, whichever way they turned.

He put a hand cautiously on Bluff. That individual was so impulsive there could be no telling just how he might act, and this touch would serve to calm him down.

The flitting figures had now all passed the hiding boys, avoiding the dense thicket in which they were crouching, as there were easier passages around. Looking out, Frank could see them moving around the cabin, as if trying to ascertain some weak place where an entrance could be effected.

“Huh!” grunted Bluff, a little incautiously it seemed, “they’re going to do what I wanted to try—make an entrance. Some of them have gone to pick up that log, and others are peeking in at the window, where the hay sticks out. If it was bigger they’d just like to crawl through. And we sit here like a set of babies. Huh!”

“Hold up, now, and consider. What’s to hinder our letting them do the work, and then when they go to reap the results we can just step up and take the plum away,” cautioned his comrade.

“I see. Like the monkey that got the cat to pull his hot chestnuts out of the fire, eh? Talk about Jerry being a lawyer, he ain’t in the same class with you, Frank.”

“Watch!” was all the other replied to this shower of bouquets.

“Something’s going to happen to them fellers around there before they know it,” remarked Tom Somers, grimly, though, of course, he followed the example of the others and kept his voice down to the lowest possible notch.

“What makes you say that?” asked Bluff, always eager for information.

“I seen something poking up along the roof. I reckon one of them hoboes is going to come out up thar, and drop something down on Pet and the fellers. Gee! but don’t I hope he slams it in hard. It’d make my cuts sting a heap less if I see them guys have to take to the tall timber.”

Tom was feeling vindictive, and really, after having seen his bruises, and remembering how shabbily he had been treated by his pards, Frank could hardly blame him for such a desire. Tom was only human, after all.

Still, what he had said aroused the curiosity of both Frank and Bluff. They riveted their attention upon the roof of the cabin. As stated before, this being badly dilapidated, the hoboes had spent some time patching the same the best they knew how.

It was even now in a shaky condition, and apt to give way if any daring soul ventured to put his weight upon it.

At least Tom was right, for they quickly discovered that a certain portion of this roof was actually moving, and even as they looked what seemed to be a human arm was thrust through. Some one was evidently making an opening, removing the pieces one by one at a place where they had been fastened across a former hole.

Frank felt that there was something more about this than appeared on the surface. He also noted that the fellows on the ground had by now become aware that they were apparently about to be menaced from above; for he saw them crouching down under the spot from whence the pieces were falling, their eyes turned upward.

Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.

“Get next to that, will you?” he whispered in Frank’s ear, as he clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; “why, it’s our chum Jerry! Oh! ain’t he the candy kid, though?”

“Hush!” said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in his excitement.

“Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway,” whimpered Bluff, unable to give proper expression to his feelings.

The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently could not be held in restraint.

It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole he had made in the roof.

Now his body had appeared. He was testing the rotten timbers first to make positive that they would hold him.

Bluff hardly breathed as he stared as well as he could, for it was half dark here, even in the daytime. He knew that a mutual surprise awaited all the persons taking part in that little drama, when Jerry reached the edge and looked over. Those crouching below expected to see one of the tattered hoboes, while possibly Jerry hoped he might find his chums awaiting him.

“It’s coming!” Frank heard him say, as he fumbled around for something; but he was so much interested himself that he did not give Bluff a second thought.

Then the creeping boy on the low roof of the cabin reached the edge. They saw him stretch his neck so that his head projected over; and there he remained, as if frozen stiff by the strange sight that greeted him.

It was not so gloomy there alongside the shack but that his keen eyes could see, under the heavy growth of rank trees, the many faces up-turned toward him. At the same time, Pet and his mates made the astounding discovery that it was Jerry Wallington, after all, who had been about to descend in this peculiar way.

Too late, Frank realized what was coming. He heard the old familiar “click” close to his ear, and a thrill of alarm shot through his frame; but ere he could even wink, much less make the slightest movement, the thing was done.

Bluff had fired another cartridge connected with that camera of Will’s. Recognizing the proper elements for a powerful flashlight picture in the remarkable combination before him, he had proceeded to carry out Will’s instructions, regardless of consequences.

Some of the clustering boys seemed ready to scamper off, but the voice of Pet recalled them to a sense of their duty. Besides, the prospect of becoming lost in those gloomy woods was not very flattering, and they huddled together.

“Hey, don’t yuh let that skeer yuh, fellers. It’s on’y some of that crazy Will Milton’s photergraphy business. Stick to it, and get that reward. Don’t a single one of yuh dar’ to run!” was what he shouted.

The situation was rather embarrassing for Jerry. He seemed to be between two fires as it were. If he came down, these angry boys stood ready to attack him; while to stay where he was meant that the hoboes would be able to reach him.

Frank began to wonder whether the time had not come for them to enter the game and stand by their chum. He had even arisen to his feet to make a forward movement when he saw that as usual, Jerry had his wits about him.

The boy on the quivering roof of the old shack was edging his way along. He appeared to be aiming for a certain spot where a big tree swept its branches down so as to brush the roof.

It offered a refuge for any one who could neither come down nor remain where he was, and Jerry knew he could make it. Now he reached the nearest limb, and like a monkey scrambled upward. The one who caught him after that would have to be nimble indeed.

“Hurrah!” shouted Bluff, unable to restrain his admiration for the presence of mind on the part of his chum.

Perhaps, given time, and the Peters crowd might have attempted some further hostile move, looking to the capture of the boy who had just gained his freedom from a prison. Frank was grimly making up his mind that, no matter what happened, he did not mean to stand idly by and see Jerry fall into the hands of these fellows.

“Say, are you going to rush ’em?” demanded Bluff, fairly wild to make a charge.

“Not unless they start after Jerry. Just now they seem to be bent on capturing our friends, the hoboes, and we can afford to let them fight it out until both sides are exhausted, when our time will come. There they go at the door with the log as a battering ram! Whoop! what do you think of that?”

Frank’s last exclamation was caused by a sudden movement on the part of the besieged; for the door had suddenly opened, and a pan of hot water was thrown out on the huddled holders of the log.

CHAPTER XXI—THE LAST STRAW

“Ouch! I’m scalded!”

“Skidoo, boys! there’s more a-comin’!”

“Why didn’t ye shoot, Bill, when ye had the chance? Gee! the skin’s a-peelin’ off me nose a’ready!”

No sooner had Waddy Walsh thrown the pan of hot water upon the advancing group that carried the log than he bolted inside again, and the bar was heard falling back of the door.

Then they heard the young savage laugh loud and long. It was this sound that aroused the passions of the crowd. They no longer thought of flight. With the burning sensation that came with the hot water application, each fellow ached to be revenged. The worst of it was, most of them knew Waddy well, and indeed he had once been a member of this same crowd.

Down went the log to the ground. All thought of using it as a battering ram had left them now.

“Git behind the trees, fellers. It’s us to the foolish house if we let that Waddy Walsh ketch us ag’in,” shouted Pet, who was rubbing his face quite as vigorously as his comrades in misery.

Upon this they hustled for shelter. Each boy took to a tree that happened to come handy, and feeling safe from a further bombardment they gave vent to their feelings in all sorts of characteristic shouts.

Frank was feeling a bit anxious about Jerry. What if these reckless spirits, aggravated by their hot reception, should try to take it out on the person of the boy they hated? Two of them carried some manner of shotguns, and there was no telling what they might not be tempted to do.

When, however, he looked anxiously up into the tree where he had last seen Jerry, to his delight he found that the other had vanished completely from sight.

“Where’s he gone?” asked Bluff, at this moment, he having apparently likewise just discovered the absence of the other chum.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he’s only hiding behind the trunk of the tree, or he may have found it hollow, like that other one, and slipped in. Watch what those fellows are up to. If they make a move to shoot at Jerry, we’ll have to put in our oar,” Frank answered with considerable feeling.

Pet Peters’ crowd was plainly at a loss to know how they ought to proceed. They saw that hundred dollars reward dangling temptingly before their eyes, and could not bear the thought of letting it pass without straining themselves to the utmost to win it. All sorts of things they had wanted so long could be bought with that easy money, and they were not yet ready to give up their chances.

“Hi! Bill, you an’ Sim git over here. I wanter have a spiel with yuh. Them guns orter fetch our game out on ther knees, if yuh on’y use ’em steady. Kim over, an’ you, too, Miser Lee. P’raps I kin use yuh!”

It was Pet bawling out, and that his word carried weight was manifest by the way in which the three fellows addressed hastened to cross over to where he stood back of the big tree that had the gaping hole in its trunk ten feet from the ground.

Frank could see them talking earnestly, and gesticulating as if to emphasize their words. Finally Pet seized the gun that one of the others carried, and taking a quick aim at the cabin he pulled the trigger.

“Bang! bang!” went both barrels.

The dead grass vanished from the little window under the charges of shot at such close quarters.

“Kim out o’ that, an’ surrender to the law!” bellowed Pet.

Frank laughed to himself at the words; it was more than comical to hear this boy, whose contempt for law and order had made him a marked character in Centerville, so loudly proclaim his sudden conversion.

Silence followed this peremptory command. Those within the cabin either did not care to answer, or else could not.

“Say, Pet, p’raps ye did for ’em that time?” suggested one of the others.

“Git out! Thar wa’nt no chance of that happenin’. Waddy just wants tuh fool us. He allers was that ways, yuh know,” answered Pet; but it was plain that the awful suggestion rather awed him.

“Shall I shoot, Pet?” asked the other owner of a gun, dubiously.

“’Course yuh must. Think I’m goin’ tuh do all the work. Blaze away both of ye, so long as ye got a shell left. Anyhow, p’raps we kin put in a claim fur part o’ the reward, fur holdin’ ’em here. Go on, Sim, I tell yuh!”

So Sim began to bombard the wall of the cabin. He made mighty sure not to fire in at that little gaping hole where the dead grass had hung until Pet knocked it through with his shot. If so be any damage was done to the inmates Sim did not mean to be accused as the guilty one.

Things seemed pretty lively for a time, with those two guns rattling away as fast as the owners could reload. From behind their trees the balance of the attacking crowd watched to see if there came any white flag of surrender. Beyond the boom of the guns, however, not a sound was heard, unless the excited voices of the eager boys were taken into consideration.

Bluff was plainly nervous. He tried to get up several times, and as often Frank pulled him down again.

“I just can’t stand it, with all that racket going on. Why don’t we have a share in it?” he begged, piteously.

“Because we don’t want to expose our hand. Give those silly chumps time and they will play the game to suit us. Wait till their last shell has been fired; then we control the situation. See?” whispered his comrade, soothingly.

“Frank, you hit me again that time. What a goose I am. Why, of course that’s the racket for us. Let ’em go on and roll their hoop!” answered Bluff, who at least was always ready to admit the error of his ways when convinced.

The shooting soon came to an end, for neither Sim nor Bill seemed to have any great amount of ammunition with them.

“That’s my last shell!” declared the former, presently.

“An’ I got my last in the gun. Shall I use ’em, Pet?” demanded the other.

“’Course, an’ send it in the windy this time,” growled the one addressed.

But Bill was too shrewd for that, and proceeded to sprinkle his bird shot over the surface of the ancient logs.

“Now we control the situation. Our guns are not useless, if theirs are!” exclaimed Frank, with a chuckle.

Still he did not seem in any hurry to open hostilities. Perhaps he hoped these eight followers of Pet might find a way to capture the hoboes, upon which they could appear on the scene and menace the enemy until they were glad to run away, leaving the fruits of their victory in the hands of Frank and his friends.

“Pet’s up to something tricky. I bet it’s the old game of firing the shanty. You remember, Frank, how he tried to burn us out last Fall when we were in camp. There goes some of the lot creeping up with armfuls of leaves. Say, are we going to stand by and see it done?” queried Bluff, warmly.

“At the last minute we can stop it. When Pet starts up to strike a match, then we’ll take a hand. No hurry. The chaps inside won’t thank us, remember. It’s out of the frying-pan into the fire with them,” came from his companion, who was observing all that went on with a critical eye.

“Looks like they meant to have a big enough pile of leaves there,” said Bluff, as the line of creeping forms kept depositing more and more fuel close to the wall of the cabin.

“Yes, and I reckon she’d burn like tinder if once started. Suppose those two hoboes rushed out suddenly, do you suppose Pet and his crowd have got sand enough to tackle them?” asked Frank of the recruit on his other side.

“They want that reward bad, I reckon, and would do some tall fightin’ to get it. Fightin’ is ther main suit, ye know,” answered Tom Somers, as he caressed the cut on his face tenderly.

“Now they’ve stopped piling up the leaves. Looks like they expected Pet to go in and put a match to the bunch. He don’t appear to hanker after the job, but to back out would put him on the blink with the crowd. There, Frank, he’s going to make the riffle, you see. Now, what?” panted Bluff, again seeking to rise, as he fumbled his gun nervously.

“There’s no need of our doing anything, after all,” remarked Frank.

“Then you mean to let ’em set the cabin on fire, and perhaps roast the poor hoboes before our very eyes?” exclaimed Bluff, in dismay.

“Not at all. I only mean that the job of frightening the bunch off is going to be taken out of our hands, for that wild man is coming back!”

“You don’t say? Where—point him out to me, Frank. Oh! if I could only get a chance to snap him off; but, just like the luck, the last flashlight cartridge is gone. Ginger! I see him now. Ain’t he a terror though? And won’t they go into fits when he rushes ’em? There he comes, as sure as you live! Wow! watch the circus, boys. My! my! ain’t I glad I’m here to see this!”

Tom Somers had said that his former teammates loved nothing better than a fight, but there were evidently times when such a condition of affairs was far from their thoughts. Such seemed to be the case now, for as they heard the shrill whoops of the outlandish hairy figure that came prancing headlong toward them, every boy took to his heels in a mad flight, heedless alike of direction or obstacles in the way, so long as he could escape a close encounter with that terrible creature.

CHAPTER XXII—HOLDING THE FORT

“Look at them run, Frank! Such a scared crowd of singed cats! Did you ever see such a sight? But where is that old wild man gone?” exclaimed Bluff, who had arisen fearlessly to his feet the better to watch the mad flight of Pet Peters and his cronies through the dense thickets.

“I couldn’t say, Bluff. I was too much taken up with the way some of those boys banged headlong into the trunks of trees to notice anything else. Did you see, Tom?”

“He climbed the same old tree, and popped into that hole like a jack-in-the-box,” declared the one addressed, quickly.

At that Frank laughed again and again, though Bluff looked at him as if hardly understanding what there was about the manner of the wild man’s disappearance to amuse his chum so.

“Jerry!” he called presently.

“Tell me about that, will you?” a familiar voice said, and they saw the object of their solicitude clambering down from a tree not far away from the house.

In another minute the three chums were shaking hands with a vim. It was certainly good to see Jerry again, and Bluff could hardly keep from embracing him.

“Did they treat you mean, old pard?” he asked, looking darkly toward the cabin, as if meditating an immediate assault if Jerry complained.

“Well, it wasn’t a nice experience, I tell you; but on the whole they didn’t kick me more than a dozen times, and I reckon I sassed ’em enough to expect that. Glad to see you again, fellows, I tell you. Who’s this? Hello! what’s Tom Somers doing with chums of mine, I’d like to know?” demanded the escaped captive, curiously.

“He had a fight with the rest, and they left him on the island, tied to a tree?” explained Bluff, eagerly.

“Oh; yes, I see, and you rescued him, so that out of gratitude he joined forces to storm the stronghold of the common enemy. Say, this beats anything we ever met up with. That wild man is sure the greatest thing that ever came over the pike,” and to Bluff’s surprise Jerry also had a fit of laughing.

“You fellows seem to be tickled over something that I don’t just grab. I didn’t think you were the kind to laugh at a poor, silly fool that has escaped from the asylum, and imagines, perhaps, he’s Father Adam in the woods,” he complained.

At which remark the others had another burst of laughter. Frank looked at Jerry, made a gesture with his head, and placed his finger on his lips to indicate silence, upon seeing which, Jerry nodded and grinned.

“Tell us about your experiences, will you?” asked Bluff.

“Only a few words. The rest will have to keep until we’re settled around the fire in camp,” returned Jerry.

“But we have no camp, now,” retorted Bluff.

“What’s happened? Did those criminals burn you out, boys?” asked the other, with clenched hands; for he had a few things he prized among the traps they had carried along with them, and the loss of which would be deeply regretted.

“No, but we decided that while off hunting for you we couldn’t leave Will there alone; so we dug up stakes, piled the ‘duffle’ in the canoes, and he’s off somewhere on the lake waiting a signal to land again,” remarked Frank.

“Great scheme. I can guess in whose brain it originated. But you don’t know how bully it is to see you again, fellows. Hang it, if it doesn’t seem like a month since I saw you last. And as to feed, I’ve just had a few things pushed into my mouth as if I were a bird in a nest. I’m just longing for a decent meal again.”

“What happened while I was examining that Indian mound?” asked Frank.

“I was dozing when something landed like a thousand of brick on my chest. For the life of me I couldn’t say a single word. I guess I must have fainted, though perhaps I ought to be ashamed to admit it. Next thing I knew I was being toted off on the shoulders of the big tramp, a fellow called Biffins, who, I expect must be a yeggman, because he seemed to know all about blowing open safes in country stores, and such things,” went on Jerry.

“Just to think of it, and carrying you on his shoulders like a log!” palpitated Bluff, listening with eagerness to these disclosures.

“They fetched me here to this cabin, and kept me tied up part of the time. That night was a long horror to me. Sometimes they were in with me, and again off somewhere. In the morning I saw that they had made a raise of some provisions, and it was then they fed me like a baby.”

“But you got your hands free after a while, didn’t you?” asked Bluff, too anxious to wait until the other reached this point.

“To be sure, and commenced that tunnel. You see, the hole in the wall was too small to crawl through, and they were in the other room where the door lay. When I caught hold of a hand I seemed to guess instantly that it must belong to one of you fellows, and then the signal squeeze told me so. Biffins caught me just then, and threw me aside. They filled up the hole and drove some stakes down alongside so I couldn’t tunnel any more. After that I thought of the old roof, for it was full of holes. So I climbed up and got out that way.”

Jerry showed by his actions that he did not wish to talk any longer on the score of his adventures. He kept looking toward the cabin suggestively.

“What do we do now, fellows? Want to trek back to the shore and leave these two in peace?” he asked.

“Not for me,” answered Bluff, readily enough; “I say that after the way they held you a prisoner it’s our duty to turn the tables on the rascals. We’ve got ’em in a hole, and all we have to do is to wait until Mr. Dodd comes.”

Jerry glanced inquiringly toward Frank.

“Yes, we heard whistles a bit ago, and imagine the posse must have landed. If we could only communicate with them in some way now, and get them to come here, we might hold the fort meanwhile.”

Frank looked at Tom Somers as he spoke. The other could not mistake his meaning.

“Oh! I’ll go, all right, if so be you write a little note to the sheriff. Him an’ me ain’t on the best terms, I reckon,” grinned that worthy.

“Done. Got a pencil with you, Bluff—mine seems to have disappeared.”

The pencil being forthcoming, Frank dashed off a few lines to Mr. Dodd, and signed his name.

“Sure you can get to the beach, Tom?” he asked.

“Easy as fallin’ off a log. I’m off, then, fellers.”

Saying which, Tom entered the bush, and disappeared from view.

“Now, what is the programme?” asked Bluff.

“Wasn’t that a boat whistle again? It seemed to come from another quarter, too?” remarked Frank.

“I heard it, all right. Perhaps the tug is circling the island so as to make sure the thieves get no chance to make off,” suggested Jerry.

“You’re right, that is just what their programme must be. Meanwhile they’ve landed the posse to search the whole place over. I hope Tom meets up with them in good time,” continued Frank, earnestly.

“There’s somebody shouting in the woods,” remarked Bluff.

“Oh! that’s the Peters tribe trying to get together again. Reminds me of a covey of quail that has been flushed and scattered, calling to each other from the brush,” laughed Frank.

“Will they come back here again?” Bluff continued.

The others exchanged looks, and chuckles followed.

“Talk to me about your sprinters, I don’t think you could hire any one of those same chaps to come within fifty yards of this place after the scare they got!” exclaimed Jerry.

“And the dose of hot water in the bargain. My! but they must feel sore! I saw several bang headlong into trees as they galloped away. There will be some lumps as big as goose-eggs among that crowd to-night. And, after all, they don’t get even a look-in on that prize money,” chuckled Bluff.

“I’ve got a proposition, fellows. If the reward should happen to come our way I move we turn it over to Tom Somers. His family is poor, and perhaps this may be the turning point in Tom’s life, who knows?” said Frank.

“Hear! hear! Them’s my sentiments!” cried the impulsive Bluff.

“Ditto,” echoed Jerry; for since they all belonged to families of wealth the promise of a reward held no attraction for Frank and his chums.

“But perhaps if we simply hold these chaps where they are the sheriff may claim he did the bagging of the game; how about that?” asked Bluff.

“You mean we ought to try and make them surrender to us?”

“If it could be done. I’ve got an idea in my head. You’ll say it isn’t original, and perhaps the trick they were going to play may have had something to do with it. But suppose they made a sneak while we talked here and left us to hold the bag?”

“No danger of that, Bluff, while we keep a watch on the door. Presently we can circle around the old rookery and make sure that they don’t take up your plan of tunneling out. Jerry, I’m going to keep an eye on this tree with the hole in it. If our friend, the wild man, ventures forth, it shall be my pleasant task to hold him up. What do you say?”

Bluff looked at Frank as he made this remark, with uneasiness in his eyes.

“Seems to me you ain’t afraid of anything, Frank. That crazy man gets on my nerves, and I don’t think I could stand for a tussle with him at close quarters. Better be careful how you let him get hold of you. They say these lunatics are just as strong as grizzly bears, and this one must be, to see the way he swung about in that tree like a big ape. Ugh! Excuse me!”

Bluff shuddered as he spoke, and consequently did not see the look that passed between his two chums, and which was more of amusement than concern.

CHAPTER XXIII—THE WHITE FLAG

“What time of day is it?” asked Jerry presently.

He had evidently lost all track of time while a prisoner in the cabin.

“Just ten o’clock,” replied Frank. “What’s become of your watch, pard?”

“Decorating the vest of Waddy, just now, though I have hopes of wearing it again after he’s tired of it,” grinned Jerry.

“Hope we get fixed up again before night. I’m thinking all the while of a bully camp dinner. Say, wasn’t this the day the girls promised to come over and bring us some home grub?” asked Bluff suddenly.

“Just as you say, and they’ll be along this afternoon on schedule time. Too bad if they have that long row for nothing. I expected to have dinner waiting for them when they got here, and then we could take them home in the canoes. This rumpus has upset all our plans,” remarked Frank dismally; for secretly, Violet Milton had promised to cook a dish that was an especial favorite of his and bring it over, to prove her accomplishments in the culinary line.

“Oh, I hope it may all turn out right yet. Now, that reminds me of my plan. If we could only force these two rascals to surrender it would shorten our stay out in the bush, and we could make for the beach, call Will ashore, and have our tents up again in a jiffy.”

“Talk to me about your persistent youngsters, ain’t he all to the good, though? What is this jim-dandy plan of yours, Bluff? Suppose you give us a look-in, so we can cheer you on, or condemn it as altogether too ridiculous?” suggested Jerry.

“Smoke!”

“You mean, make it so uncomfortable for the hoboes that they’ll be glad to come out and hold up their little hands for us—is that the programme?”

“Well, don’t you think it would work, Jerry?” demanded the originator.

“Who’s going to do the smoking act? Tell me that.”

“That’s easy. Count on me, if you don’t mind holding my gun while I chase around and gather some stuff that will smolder and not blaze up. Some green weeds make a bitter smoke that smarts the eyes dreadfully. I’ll try that on. Those tramps may be able to stand for a good deal, but if they stay in that place long they’ll feel like a couple of smoked hams,” declared the energetic Bluff.

“Oh, so far as that goes, I’m only too willing to grab a good old gun again. I reckon you let Will have mine,” observed Jerry as he relieved the other of the repeating shotgun.

“And you won’t feel disgraced because it happens to be one of those pump-guns?” Bluff took occasion to remark, maliciously.

“Circumstances alter cases. This is one. I’ve no doubt that a gun like this can be very useful at times. Anyhow, I’m open to a trial. Just let those hoboes show up and try to attack us, and if I don’t fill their miserable bodies full of bird shot, then it’s twenty-three for mine. Now, watch him begin his new job, Frank.”

“You saw what happened to those other boys when they started to rush the door with that log battering-ram, didn’t you, Bluff? Perhaps they’ve got more hot water handy. Look out for it, my son,” warned Frank.

“Oh, I’m onto that racket. I can dodge any Niagara that comes. Besides, I don’t mean to give ’em more of a chance at me than I can help. One of you keep watch on the door, and if they start to open just bang away in the air to tell that we mean business. Here goes, boys.”

So Bluff commenced moving hither and thither under the trees, searching for just the kind of wood he wanted. It was his intention to start his fire alongside the tree that grew nearest to the cabin wall. Then, after he had it smoking at a furious rate he could push the whole mass under the structure with a long stick.

For some time he worked. Not a sound or a sign of life came from the cabin. If Waddy Walsh and his pal, Biffins, were still inside, they knew how to keep quiet.

By this time our friends had become convinced that the hobo couple could not be in possession of any kind of firearm, for they would surely have made some use of the same at the time Pet Peters and his crowd pushed them so warmly.

Feeling sure of this, Bluff worked openly, only keeping behind the trees whenever he approached close to the hut, for fear lest a sudden shower of scalding fluid should greet him.

Frank and Jerry had separated, each watching a side of the cabin. Frank also kept close to the tree which had sheltered the singular being whose coming on the scene had completed the fright of Pet Peters and his cronies. From the way he cast frequent looks up at that yawning cavity it would seem as though he half anticipated a reappearance of the remarkable creature that had vanished inside the tree.

Finally Bluff seemed to have arranged the little pile of material to suit.

“Here she goes, fellows! Look out, now! There may be something doing. Hold ’em up if they rush me!” he called, as he applied a match.

The stuff burned briskly at first. When he had allowed it to gain what headway he deemed sufficient, Bluff began to cover the fire with the green weeds brought for the purpose.

“Wow!” shouted Jerry, as a wavering breeze carried some of the dense smoke over to his station. “That’s the limit! Ought to be a State’s prison offense for any one to make such a smudge as that. You’ll suffocate the poor guys—that’s what!”

But Bluff only grinned, and labored on. He had a long pole in his hands, with which he was shoving the smoldering mass over so that it would pass under a certain part of the cabin. Here there was a friendly opening ready to receive it.

Bang! went a gun.

The cabin door, which had started to open, was hastily shut, although, of course, Jerry had fired above the roof.

“How does it work?” shouted Bluff, thinking more of his gun in the hands of the one who had always detested it than his own danger from hot water.

“Great!” answered Jerry as he let another shot loose, having, as he thought, detected a movement of the door again.

Thinking they had drawn his fangs, those in the cabin now really opened the door, to get a chance to deluge Bluff, when, to their amazement and alarm, Jerry turned loose a third shot. The door shut, this time to open no more for that purpose.

“Now what do you say?” roared Bluff. “What could you have done with one of your old measly two-shot guns, eh? Tell me that.”

“I take back all I ever said against the bully thing. Three more shots waiting for you, Mister Hobo. Just show your nose, and see!” exclaimed the marksman.

“Mark the window, Bluff!” called Frank just then.

Thus warned in time, Bluff was able to scurry around the protecting trunk of the tree as an arm was projected from the small opening, and, as before, a pan of steaming water dashed all around him.

“Tell me about that, will you?” jeered Jerry, who guessed what had happened, though it took place on the other side of the cabin.

Bluff started pushing his mass of smoking weeds forward again.

“Never touched me!” he shouted in his excitement.

By this time the rank smoke had begun to ooze up through the floor of the old cabin. Doubtless there were plenty of gaping cracks between the puncheon boards to allow of a draught. Just how long the inmates could stand this sickening cloud was a question.

“Say! ain’t this the real thing? Perhaps the sheriff would like to take a few lessons from our chum Bluff on how to smoke hams. Listen, will you! The poor guys are sneezing to beat the band. Keep up the good work, pard, and you’ll force their hand. Get ready to cover ’em, Frank. I reckon something’s bound to happen soon.”

“Hey, you Waddy! Show up with the white flag, and we quit!” called Bluff from behind his refuge.

He was rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, for while he had claimed to have escaped entirely, some of the splashing water had dropped on his skin and left an impression in the shape of a red mark.

“A white flag—that’s the game! Might as well do it right while we’re at it, boys. Come out, Waddy! We want you, and we mean to get you! Three more charges in this elegant pump-gun, and all for you. Do you surrender?” shouted Jerry.

It was happiness to Bluff to hear this scoffing sportsman chum of his thus praise the hitherto detested repeating gun, and he danced around almost recklessly, such was his delight.

But no more charges of scalding water belched out of that small window. Perhaps the two unfortunates within had all they could attend to trying to breathe in that sickening, smoke-laden atmosphere.

“Keep up the good work, Bluff. It’s immense,” encouraged Frank, who really believed that, after all, the other had hit upon a clever way to force a surrender on the part of the defiant hoboes.

Suddenly the energetic fireman gave a loud cheer.

“They shove out the white flag! They surrender! What d’ye think of my plan, now, fellows? There’s Waddy waving it out of the window! Don’t shoot the poor duck—he’s pretty near all in, and blind with the smoke!” he whooped.

It was so.

Perhaps the article that the boy tramp was waving wildly out of the small opening may have hardly deserved the name of white flag, but his intentions could not be doubted.

Smoke had won against stubborn grit, and the hoboes were ready to throw up their hands!

CHAPTER XXIV—A NEW ALARM

“Do you give up, Waddy?” demanded Frank, menacingly holding his gun leveled.

“Oh, we’ll hands up, all right. Both of us are on the blink with the smoke, and nigh blind. Call it off, fellers,” whined the owner of the dirty face in the opening, while he coughed several times to emphasize his words.

“All right, then. Now, tell Biffins that we want him out first, and if he tries to run, it’s a charge of bird shot for him in the rear. Get that?”

“Sure. No danger of us doin’ anythin’. We’re so near blind we couldn’t run if we wanted to.”

The head vanished. Ten seconds later the door was thrown open and a big man staggered into sight, reeling as if he were intoxicated. The two fugitives had stubbornly stuck to the cabin through all, until nearly dead for fresh air.

AS HE CAME, THE MAN HELD BOTH ARMS ALOFT.

As he came, the man held both arms aloft. Apparently he knew what was wanted, and did not mean to encourage these young hunters to try a shot at his person.

“Lie down on the ground, on your face!” shouted Frank. “Now keep your hands stretched out that way. Don’t dare move, or it will be bad for you, Biffins. Now, Waddy, your turn!” called Frank again.

A second figure came into view, groping, as if utterly blind. He, too, was compelled to drop on the cool earth, where he could gulp in great breaths of the fresh air, of which they were in such dire need.

From three directions the boys approached.

“Hurrah! We bagged ’em!” shouted Bluff.

Frank said nothing. It was not in his nature to exult over a fallen foe, though he did not blame the more impulsive Bluff for his evident delight.

From one of his pockets he produced some stout cord. He certainly had never dreamed what a singular use he would find for this when placing it there.

“Watch them both, Jerry. Now, Biffins, put your hands behind you, crossed. I’m going to tie them so. It’s no use thinking of doing anything. You couldn’t escape, even if you got away from us, for the sheriff has this island surrounded, and he is on the way here, right now, with his posse. Perhaps you might be shot down in the woods. There, you won’t break that, I reckon, in a hurry.”

He turned his attention to the second rascal. Waddy Walsh had reached a point in his reckless career where he did not care much what happened to him. Having in a measure recovered from the suffocating fumes of the smoking weeds, he even twisted his head half way around to jeer at Jerry.

“Helpin’ to arrest your old pard, hey, Jerry? That’s kind of you, now. I’ll be likely to remember it, old feller, when I get out again,” he said.

“I reckon you won’t have a chance to get out in a hurry, Waddy. I’m ashamed to admit that I did once go out with you, till you took to stealing, and I had to cut you off my visiting list. Hear that shooting, boys? The sheriff’s posse must be in the woods nearby, right now, and coming this way. I reckon Tom found ’em, all right.”

“Well, let ’em come. We’re ready to hand the prisoners over to the lawful officers. Say, but this has been a fierce time all around. We never thought, when we started out to camp on Wildcat Island, that we’d pass through such a string of adventures. Where are you going, Frank?” said Bluff, as the other started to enter the cabin, the smoke having settled somewhat, after the smoldering weeds were dragged away from under the wall.

“Just to look around a little, that’s all. Please stay with Jerry,” came the answer, as Frank vanished within.

Presently he came out again. He had a bundle under his arm, wrapped in a newspaper, and of which he seemed especially careful. Jerry looked at him, and received a nod in return, which he seemed to understand full well, for he asked no questions.

“Here’s the packet Mr. Pemberton lost, and I suppose the valuables are all safe inside, eh, Waddy?” he said, holding up something small he carried.

“Never touched a thing in it. Them other pieces of silver we swiped out of the farmhouse, and anything else you find come from that storage house over in Newtonport. We was after something big there, but missed it,” admitted the boy from the reform school, with unblushing effrontery.

Loud calls were now heard close by. Bluff lifted his tuneful voice and shouted:

“This way, Mr. Dodd. Everything lovely, and the goose hangs high. We’ve got ’em safe and sound. Here’s your men, sir. Step right up and put the irons on ’em!”

Biffins had not said a word up to now. The smoke had taken all desire to talk away from him; but he proved that he could swear like a pirate. No doubt what galled him most of all was the fact that his capture had been brought about through the instrumentality of a parcel of boys.

The crashing of the undergrowth became plainer. Then a party of men could be seen hurrying forward as fast as the tangled thickets would allow.

Mr. Dodd, the sheriff, was at their head. As he saw the two tramp thieves lying on the ground, helpless, he gave a roar. Rushing up to the boys, he shook the hand of each one in turn.

“Bully work, boys! I’m proud to know you, proud to say you live in the same town as I do! Hello, Biffins! So it’s you, eh? Well, this time we’ve got you dead to rights, and you don’t get off. And here’s Waddy Walsh, broke loose from the school he was sent to to learn to become a decent man. Back you go, my fine lad, this time to stay.”

So he rattled on, as he proceeded to clap a pair of neat steel bracelets on the wrists of each of the prisoners.

After that he went into the cabin and thoroughly searched it.

“I reckon we’ve got all the plunder they had, and now it might be a good thing if we burned this old rat trap of a nest to the ground. It’s got a bad name, and if tramp thieves have taken to lodging here, the sooner it goes, the better.”

Under the orders of the sheriff, some of the posse started things moving. In a short time the old cabin was a mass of flames. They made sure that the fire could not extend to the surrounding forest, which was just beginning to be covered with an early crop of new leaves. Then the whole company started through the thickets, headed for the shore.

“Hang the luck! We forget one thing, after all!” said Bluff suddenly.

He had been so busy getting several pictures of the burning cabin that for the time being all other things had escaped him.

“What was that?” asked Frank, winking at Jerry knowingly.

“The wild man! We forgot to get him out of that hollow tree!” exclaimed Bluff.

“Well, it’s too late now. For one, I object to walking back there. Besides, we must hustle in order to make camp again against the coming of the girls,” observed Frank seriously.

“But ain’t we ever going to know what the mystery of that queer creature must be? Perhaps we’d better write to that keeper we met before, Mr. Smithson, and let him know. Then if he’s shy a member of his happy family of lunatics, he’ll know where to hunt for him,” Bluff went on innocently.

“A bully good idea, and you can do the writing when we get home, if you feel that way,” said Frank, with a face that was as sober as that of a judge, while Jerry had to turn his head away to keep from laughing outright.

“But about the girls, fellows! Do you know they may not come, after all. Perhaps the folks have heard about the lively times down here on Wildcat Island, and put a veto on the outing. Then, again, you can hear the wind in the tops of these tall trees, so there must be whitecaps on the lake. It would be risky for a lot of girls to embark on so long a trip,” observed Jerry.

“Well, boys, we’re going to turn aside here, and make for a point where the tug is to meet us. I want to thank you again. Don’t forget there’s a nice little hundred waiting for you when you want to claim it,” said Mr. Dodd, after a bit.

“We’ve decided that you are to turn that reward over to Tom Somers here. He was a great help to us, and we’d like his family to get the hundred, Mr. Dodd,” said Frank.

Tom started to say something, then broke down, and could only look at each of the three boys with his heart in his eyes.

“Now for the place again. It’s tenting once more on the old campground for us, fellows. I hope Will has had the sense to cross over after he saw the tug come, and the posse come ashore,” remarked Frank.

They pushed through the dense growth stubbornly, and in the course of time realized that they were drawing near the open.

“One more rush, and we can pass around that big bluff and see our place. There’s the lake, and whitecaps, too. Too bad the girls can’t be with us. What a yarn we’d have to tell ’em, eh, fellows?” said Frank, laughing.

“Thunder!” exclaimed Bluff just then.

“What’s happened to you, old sport?” asked Jerry.

“Look here, through this opening! Ain’t that the boat with the girls, out there in that jumping sea? And side on, part of the time. Something’s happened to ’em, that’s what, as sure as you’re born!” ejaculated Bluff.

The others looked, and also uttered exclamations of dismay, while Frank called out:

“They seem to have only one oar, and Nellie’s trying to steer with that. Much she knows about sculling! Oh! They were nearly over that time! My heart’s in my mouth. Run for the shore, boys! If only Will has come in with our canoes!”

And plunging like mad through the remaining brush, the three lads broke out upon the little beach, just where they had first landed when coming to Wildcat Island to camp.

CHAPTER XXV—THE RESCUE—CONCLUSION

“Will’s here!” shouted Jerry, as they broke cover.

“Into the canoes, then, as fast as you can!” exclaimed Frank.

He had given one frantic look out on the lake. This had shown him that as yet the helpless boat containing the four girls had not capsized, though with every wave it seemed liable to turn over, having broached to in the heavy running seas.

The way they threw out the contents of the canoes was a caution. Packages fairly covered the little beach, to the bewilderment of Will, who just then came out of the bushes, where he had been placing his first load, and who must have believed at first that his three chums had gone stark mad.

Then the canoes were launched. This in itself was no easy task, but Frank and his chums were experts at handling the small craft, and had often practised all manner of tricks with the boats while in swimming.

Through the breaking surf that rushed up on the shore they ran with the canoes. Then jumping in, they seized the paddles, and started to work furiously.

Success attended their efforts, and presently they were moving swiftly toward the rolling rowboat, in which crouched the four frightened girls.

“Sit down, and keep still! We’ll get you all right!” bawled Frank, as he saw one of the girls make an effort to use the remaining oar.

So they came alongside. Frank breathed a prayer of thanksgiving when his hand caught the gunwale of the skiff.

“I’ve got the boat to hold two of you. Nellie, can you climb over, if I hold on tight?” he asked his sister; “and you, too, Violet, will you dare?”

Nellie made the change easily enough, and then came Will’s sister. Meanwhile, the other boys had decided to convoy the rowboat in with its remaining passengers, rather than attempt the risky task of transferring them out there on the rough lake.

They made fast, one on either side, and began to paddle with the waves. In this way the entire number finally found themselves safely ashore.

“We hardly expected you’d try it in this wind,” said Frank, as he helped Violet up the beach to the deserted camp.

“But the wind came up after we started, and we couldn’t go back to save our lives, you see,” she explained, laughing a little hysterically.

“But what does this mean? Where is your camp, boys? It looks as though everything is done up just as you left home,” said Mame Crosby, as she eyed the many packages which the others were now busily gathering together.

At that they all looked at each other and burst into roars of laughter.

“It’s a long story, girls, and we’ll spin it while we sit around the fire having dinner. As it’s now long past noon, and there’s a heap to do getting the camp fixed again, you must excuse us. Bluff, start the fire going, and the girls can help us out by taking charge of dinner while we build our camp,” said Frank.

Things began to assume the old-time air in less than half an hour. Of course, the girls chattered like magpies as they worked, but all their appeals for information fell on deaf ears until they were sitting around, in picnic style, enjoying the splendid dinner, which was helped out by the delicious things brought from home.

“And to think how near we came to feeding the fishes with these, too,” said Susie Prescott, as she helped Will to a second portion.

“Now please take pity on us, and explain what has happened. We’re just dying by inches to know. What was that tug doing down here, with all those men? And unless I’m mistaken, I saw Mr. Dodd, the sheriff, aboard. He was out hunting those two bad tramps who robbed the steamboat. Oh, boys! Do you mean to say you have had anything to do with them?”

Nellie had brought it to the point where explanations must be in order. So the story was told in detail. Sometimes one of the campers related a certain part, and then another took it up from where he left off.

“And with what views Bluff took for me, I’ll have enough to illustrate the whole performance. A few I’ve missed, and they will always haunt me. Altogether it’s been a remarkable series of adventures,” declared Will enthusiastically.

“The most astonishing that will ever come our way, I reckon,” said Jerry with emphasis.

But though they did not dream of it at that time, there were still stranger things fated to befall the four chums ere many months had passed. These happenings of vacation time will appear in the next volume of this series, to be entitled “The Outdoor Chums in the Forest; or, Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge,” which will tell of the weird experiences our friends met with while investigating the greatest mystery that ever troubled the neighborhood of Centerville.

The merry party had just about finished their dinner when Bluff once again began to take his comrades to task for not thinking to rout the wild man out of his hole in the tree while they had the help of the sheriff’s posse.

“It’s a chance we’ll never have again, and no doubt the poor old fellow would be better off if turned over to Mr. Smithers, at the asylum. Have any of you girls heard of a lunatic at large since winter?” he kept on, until both Frank and Jerry could stand it no longer.

“It’s a shame to keep you in the dark any longer, Bluff. To tell you the truth, we captured that wild man,” said Frank as soon as he could control his face.

“Captured him? When? How? Where? You’ve been having a joke all to yourselves. It’s time you let me in, boys,” he said positively.

Frank ripped open the newspaper package he had carried all the way from the lone cabin in the jungle. Then he held something up that first provoked exclamations of wonder and then shrieks of laughter from the girls. Bluff turned red in the face, but being good-natured, he finally joined in the mirth.

“So that’s what it was, eh? That big tramp dressed himself up in that monkey skin they stole from Dr. Aiken’s collection, over in the store-house, when they entered. Waddy knew about the story of the wild man said to be on this island, and meant to have Biffins play the part to frighten off any posse that might land. A clever idea, yes; and I guess he did have considerable fun with it,” Bluff went on.

“Jerry knew, of course, for he was a prisoner, and saw the fellow dressing to carry out the part; but I gave him the wink, and he kept quiet,” said Frank.

“But how did you know?” demanded Will.

“I just guessed it. Sort of put two and two together, you see. The footprints gave me a clue. Then I watched the fellow carefully when he was coming out of the tree, and going in later. I believed it was a man, and he seemed to know too much to be a lunatic; but I thought I’d have a little fun with you and Bluff.”

“Into the tree, yes, but how do you explain that? We saw him go in that hole in the hollow stump, and he didn’t come out again, yet Biffins was in the cabin when my stinging smoke made them surrender. There’s something queer about that.”

“You’re right there is, Bluff. I saw how the thing was done when I went inside the cabin, after they had been made prisoners. In the front room was a hole in the floor. I jumped in that, and found, just as I expected, that it was a nice little underground tunnel leading to that hollow tree. Years ago, the man who lived there must have constructed that as a means of escape from some imaginary danger. When Biffins entered that tree he simply kept along until he reached the cabin; but neither of them dared try to escape that way, because they saw me standing guard,” remarked Frank calmly.

“Well! Talk about your mysteries, this one beats the band! But that fellow who died in the cabin did have a reason to be afraid, Frank. I understand he turned out to be a man who was wanted for a capital crime down in New York City. Perhaps he dreamed of the time when he should be tracked to his hiding-place, and meant to have a chance for escape,” observed Jerry.

They passed the hairy disguise around. Bluff even stood up to show how it had fitted the big man, at which Will uttered a cry of delight.

“Oh! now I know how I can get a picture of the wild man for our collection. Bluff, some day won’t you just put that thing on, and let me snap you off? It will be a real kindness, and I think you will be pleased with the result,” he exclaimed.

At which poor Bluff glared at him, and subsided, while the girls went into new spasms of laughter.

Dinner was made as elaborate as possible, and in spite of what had happened the girls and the boys did full justice to all that was set before them. As they ate they talked the happenings over again. They all had fun with the disguise, and when one of the girls tried it on, everybody screamed with laughter.

“The wild girl from Peru,” said Frank.

“The Wildcat Island belle,” came from Jerry.

And then another shout of laughter arose.

Dinner over, the boys gallantly ferried the girls over to a dock at which the steamboat would stop on her round of the lake. Here they laughed and joked until the Eastern Star came along, when the four girls started home.

Captain Amos leaned over the rail and heard the news with delight, saying:

“Glad to hear it, fellows. Knew those hoboes would regret it if ever they ran across the tracks of you four. So they’re in the lock-up by this time, and Mr. Pemberton’s packet of jewelry is recovered. Hurrah for the Rod, Gun and Camera Club!”

So the little steamboat sheered off, the paddles began to beat the water, and our boys waved their hats in farewell as the girls returned the salute with their dainty handkerchiefs. After which, Frank and his chums headed once more for Wildcat Island to finish their Easter outing, so strangely interrupted.

THE END

THE TOM SWIFT SERIES

By VICTOR APPLETON

12mo CLOTH, ILLUSTRATED.

PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID

These spirited tales convey in a realistic way the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these are impressed upon the youthful memory and their reading is productive only of good.

TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
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TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA
Or The Perils of Moving Picture Taking

TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
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TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE
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In these stories we follow the adventures of three boys, who, after purchasing at auction the patents of a moving picture house, open a theatre of their own. Their many trials and tribulations, leading up to the final success of their venture, make very entertaining stories.

THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ FIRST VENTURE
Or Opening a Photo Playhouse in Fairlands.

The adventures of Frank, Randy and Pep in running a Motion Picture show. They had trials and tribulations but finally succeed.

THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK
Or The Rival Photo Theatres of the Boardwalk.

Their success at Fairlands encourages the boys to open their show at Seaside Park, where they have exciting adventures—also a profitable season.

THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS ON BROADWAY
Or The Mystery of the Missing Cash Box.

Backed by a rich western friend the chums established a photo playhouse in the great metropolis, where new adventures await them.

THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ OUTDOOR EXHIBITION
Or The Film that Solved a Mystery.

This time the playhouse was in a big summer park. How a film that was shown gave a clew to an important mystery is interestingly related.

THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ NEW IDEA
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In this book the scene is shifted to Boston, and there is intense rivalry in the establishment of photo playhouses of educational value.

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THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS
Or Perils of a Great City Depicted.

THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST
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THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
Or Showing the Perils of the Deep.

THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
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THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOOD
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By GRAHAM B. FORBES

Never was there a cleaner, brighter, more manly boy than Frank Allen, the hero of this series of boys’ tales, and never was there a better crowd of lads to associate with than the students of the School. All boys will read these stories with deep interest. The rivalry between the towns along the river was of the keenest, and plots and counterplots to win the championships, at baseball, at football, at boat racing, at track athletics, and at ice hockey, were without number. Any lad reading one volume of this series will surely want the others.

The Boys of Columbia High;
Or The All Around Rivals of the School.

The Boys of Columbia High on the Diamond;
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The Boys of Columbia High on the River;
Or The Boat Race Plot that Failed.

The Boys of Columbia High on the Gridiron;
Or The Struggle for the Silver Cup.

The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice;
Or Out for the Hockey Championship.

12mo. Illustrated.

Handsomely bound in cloth, with cover design and wrappers in colors.

Price, 40 cents per volume.

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By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

The outdoor chums are four wide-awake lads, sons of wealthy men of a small city located on a lake. The boys love outdoor life, and are greatly interested in hunting, fishing, and picture taking. They have motor cycles, motor boats, canoes, etc., and during their vacations go everywhere and have all sorts of thrilling adventures. The stories give full directions for camping out, how to fish, how to hunt wild animals and prepare the skins for stuffing, how to manage a canoe, how to swim, etc. Full of the very spirit of outdoor life.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS
Or, The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE
Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST
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THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF
Or, Rescuing the Lost Balloonists.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME
Or, Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness.

12mo. Averaging 240 pages.

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FROM OFFICE BOY TO REPORTER
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LARRY DEXTER, THE YOUNG REPORTER
Or Strange Adventures in a Great City.

LARRY DEXTER’S GREAT SEARCH
Or The Hunt for a Missing Millionaire.

LARRY DEXTER AND THE BANK MYSTERY
Or A Young Reporter in Wall Street.

LARRY DEXTER AND THE STOLEN BOY
Or A Young Reporter on the Lakes.

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By ROY ROCKWOOD

No manly boy ever grew tired of sea stories—there is a fascination about them, and they are a recreation to the mind. These books are especially interesting and are full of adventure, clever dialogue and plenty of fun.

12mo. Bound in Cloth. Illustrated.

Price, 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC
Or The Secret of the Island Cave.

THE CRUISE OF THE TREASURE SHIP
Or The Castaways of Floating Island.

THE RIVAL OCEAN DIVERS
Or The Search for a Sunken Treasure.

JACK NORTH’S TREASURE HUNT
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THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS

For Little Men and Women

By LAURA LEE HOPE

AUTHOR OF “THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES”

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Copyright publications which cannot be obtained elsewhere. Books that charm the hearts of the little ones, and of which they never tire. Many of the adventures are comical in the extreme, and all the accidents that ordinarily happen to youthful personages happened to these many-sided little mortals. Their haps and mishaps make decidedly entertaining reading.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE.

The demand for this series has been so great that the author has yielded to many requests and has added two volumes as follows:

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL.

Telling how they got home from the seashore; went to school and were promoted, and of their many trials and tribulations.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE.

Telling of the winter holidays, and of the many fine times and adventures the twins had at a winter lodge in the big woods.

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By EVELYN RAYMOND

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Two companion stories for American girls, by one of the most popular writers of fiction for girls’ reading. They are bright, winsome and thoroughly wholesome stories.

DOROTHY CHESTER. The Haps and Mishaps of a Foundling.

The first volume tells how Dorothy was found on the doorstep, taken in, and how she grew to be a lovable girl of twelve; and was then carried off by a person who held her for ransom. She made a warm friend of Jim, the nobody; and the adventures of the pair are as interesting as they are surprising.

DOROTHY CHESTER AT SKYRIE.

Shows Dorothy at her country home near the Highlands of the Hudson. Here astonishing adventures befell her, and once again Jim, the nobody, comes to her assistance.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST, NEW YORK

THE RISE IN LIFE SERIES

By Horatio Alger, Jr.

These are Copyrighted Stories which cannot be obtained elsewhere. They are the stories last written by this famous author.

12mo. Illustrated.

Bound in cloth, stamped in colored inks.

Price, 40 Cents per Volume, Postpaid.

THE YOUNG BOOK AGENT
Or Frank Hardy’s Road to Success

A plain but uncommonly interesting tale of everyday life, describing the ups and downs of a boy book-agent.

FROM FARM TO FORTUNE
Or Nat Nason’s Strange Experience

Nat was a poor country lad. Work on the farm was hard, and after a quarrel with his uncle, with whom he resided, he struck out for himself.

OUT FOR BUSINESS
Or Robert Frost’s Strange Career

Relates the adventures of a country boy who is compelled to leave home and seek his fortune in the great world at large.

FALLING IN WITH FORTUNE
Or The Experiences of a Young Secretary

This is a companion tale to “Out for Business,” but complete in itself, and tells of the further doings of Robert Frost as private secretary.

YOUNG CAPTAIN JACK
Or The Son of a Soldier

The scene is laid in the South during the Civil War, and the hero is a waif who was cast up by the sea and adopted by a rich Southern planter.

NELSON THE NEWSBOY
Or Afloat in New York

Mr. Alger is always at his best in the portrayal of life in New York City, and this story is among the best he has given our young readers.

LOST AT SEA
Or Robert Roscoe’s Strange Cruise

A sea story of uncommon interest. The hero falls in with a strange derelict—a ship given over to the wild animals of a menagerie.

JERRY, THE BACKWOODS BOY
Or the Parkhurst Treasure

Depicts life on a farm of New York State. The mystery of the treasure will fascinate every boy. Jerry is a character well worth knowing.

RANDY OF THE RIVER
Or the adventures of a Young Deckhand

Life on a river steamboat is not so romantic as some young people may imagine, but Randy Thompson wanted work and took what was offered.

JOE, THE HOTEL BOY
Or Winning Out by Pluck.

A graphic account of the adventures of a country boy in the city.

BEN LOGAN’S TRIUMPH
Or The Boys of Boxwood Academy

The trials and triumphs of a city newsboy in the country.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, NEW YORK

The Enterprise Books

Captivating Stories for Boys by Justly Popular Writers

The episodes are graphic, exciting, realistic—the tendency of the tales is to the formation of an honorable and manly character. They are unusually interesting, and convey lessons of pluck, perseverance and manly independence, 12mo. Illustrated. Attractively bound in cloth.

Price, 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

Moffat, William D.
THE CRIMSON BANNER. A Story of College Baseball

A tale that grips one from start to finish. The students are almost flesh and blood, and the contests become real as we read about them. The best all-around college and baseball tale yet presented.

Graydon, William Murray
CANOE BOYS AND CAMP FIRES.

In this book we have the doings of several bright and lively boys, who go on a canoeing trip and meet with many exciting happenings.

Harkness, Peter T.
ANDY, THE ACROBAT. Or, With the Greatest Show on Earth

Andy is as bright as a silver dollar. In the book we can smell the sawdust, hear the flapping of the big white canvas and the roaring of the lions, and listen to the merry “hoop la!” of the clown.

Foster, W. Bert
THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN. A Tale of Ocean Adventure

A Youth’s story of the deep blue sea—of the search for a derelict carrying a fortune. Brandon Tarr is a manly lad, and all lads will be eager to learn whether he failed or succeeded in his mission.

White, Matthew, Jr.
TWO BOYS AND A FORTUNE. Or, The Tyler Will

If you had been poor and were suddenly left a half-million dollars, what would you do with it? That was the problem that confronted the Pell family, and especially the twin brothers, Rex and Roy. A strong, helpful story, that should be read by every boy in our land.

Winfield, Arthur M.
BOB, THE PHOTOGRAPHER. Or, A Hero in Spite of Himself

Relates the experiences of a poor boy who falls in with a “camera fiend,” and develops a liking for photography. After a number of stirring adventures Bob becomes photographer for a railroad; thwarts the plan of those who would injure the railroad corporation and incidently clears a mystery surrounding his parentage.

Bonehill, Captain Ralph
LOST IN THE LAND OF ICE. Or, Daring Adventure Round the South Pole

An expedition is fitted out by a rich young man and with him goes the hero of the tale, a lad who has some knowledge of a treasure ship said to be cast away in the land of ice. The heroes land among the wild Indians of Patagonia and have many exciting adventures.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, NEW YORK

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SERIES

By LAURA LEE HOPE

AUTHOR OF “THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES.”

12mo CLOTH, ILLUSTRATED.

PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID.

The adventures of Ruth and Alice DeVere. Their father, a widower, is an actor who has taken up work for the “movies.” Both girls wish to aid him in his work. At first, they do work in “parlor dramas” only, but later on, visit various localities to act in all sorts of pictures.

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS
Or First Appearance in Photo Dramas.

Having lost his voice, the father of the girls goes into the movies and the girls follow. Tells how many “parlor dramas” are filmed.

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT OAK FARM
Or Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays.

Full of fun in the country, the haps and mishaps of taking film plays, and giving an account of two unusual discoveries.

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SNOWBOUND
Or The Proof on the Film.

A tale of winter adventures in the wilderness, showing how the photo-play actors sometimes suffer. The proof on the film was most convincing.

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS UNDER THE PALMS
Or Lost in the Wilds of Florida.

How they went to the land of palms, played many parts in dramas before the clicking machine, and were lost and aided others who were also lost.

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT ROCKY RANCH
Or Great Days Among the Cowboys.

All who have ever seen moving pictures of the great West will want to know just how they are made. This volume gives every detail and is full of clean fun and excitement.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH SERIES

By GERTRUDE W. MORRISON

12mo CLOTH, ILLUSTRATED.

PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID

Here is a series full of the spirit of high school life of to-day. The girls are real flesh-and-blood characters, and we follow them with interest in school and out. There are many contested matches on track and field, and on the water, as well as doings in the classroom and on the school stage. There is plenty of fun and excitement, all clean, pure and wholesome.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH
Or Rivals for all Honors.

A stirring tale of high school life, full of fan, with a touch of mystery and a strange initiation.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON LAKE LUNA
Or The Crew That Won.

Telling of water sports and fun galore, and of fine times in camp.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH AT BASKETBALL
Or The Great Gymnasium Mystery.

Here we have a number of thrilling contests at basketball and in addition, the solving of a mystery which had bothered the high school authorities for a long while.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON THE STAGE
Or The Play That Took the Prize.

How the girls went in for theatricals and how one of them wrote a play which afterward was made over for the professional stage and brought in some much-needed money.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON TRACK AND FIELD
Or The Girl Champions of the School League.

This story takes in high school athletics in their most approved and up-to-date fashion. Full of fun and excitement.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES

By LAURA LEE HOPE

AUTHOR OF THE EVER POPULAR “BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS”

12mo CLOTH, ILLUSTRATED.

PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID

These tales take in the various adventures participated in by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life. They are clean and wholesome, free from sensationalism, absorbing from the first chapter to the last.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
Or Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health.

Telling how the girls organized their Camping and Tramping Club, how they went on a tour, and of various adventures which befell them.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
Or Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem.

One of the girls becomes the proud possessor of a motor boat and at once invites her club members to take a trip with her down the river to Rainbow Lake, a beautiful sheet of water lying between the mountains.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
Or The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley.

One of the girls has learned to run a big motor car, and she invites the club to go on a tour with her, to visit some distant relatives. On the way they stop at a deserted mansion, said to be haunted and make a most surprising discovery.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
Or Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats.

In this story, the scene is shifted to a winter season. The girls have some jolly times skating and ice boating, and visit a hunters’ camp in the big woods.

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA
Or Wintering in the Sunny South.

The parents of one of the girls have bought an orange grove in Florida, and her companions are invited to visit the place. They do so, and take a trip into the wilds of the interior, where several unusual things happen.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

THE DICK HAMILTON SERIES

By HOWARD R. GARIS

A SERIES THAT HAS BECOME VERY POPULAR

DICK HAMILTON’S FORTUNE
Or The Stirring Doings of a Millionaire’s Son.

Dick, the son of a millionaire, has a fortune left to him by his mother. But before he can touch the bulk of this money it is stipulated in his mother’s will that he must do certain things, in order to prove that he is worthy of possessing such a fortune. The doings of Dick and his chums make the liveliest kind of reading.

DICK HAMILTON’S CADET DAYS
Or The Handicap of a Millionaire’s Son.

The hero is sent to a military academy to make his way without the use of money. Life at an up-to-date military academy is described, with target shooting, broadsword exercise, trick riding, sham battles etc. Dick proves himself a hero in the best sense of the word.

DICK HAMILTON’S STEAM YACHT
Or A Young Millionaire and the Kidnappers.

A series of adventures while yachting in which our hero’s wealth plays a part. Dick is marooned on an island, recovers his yacht and foils the kidnappers. The wrong young man is spirited away, Dick gives chase and there is a surprising rescue at sea.

DICK HAMILTON’S FOOTBALL TEAM
Or A Young Millionaire on the Gridiron.

A very interesting account of how Dick developed a champion team and of the lively contests with other teams. There is also related a number of thrilling incidents in which Dick is the central figure.

DICK HAMILTON’S AIRSHIP
Or A Young Millionaire in the Clouds.

Tells how Dick built an airship to compete in a twenty thousand dollar prize contest, and of many adventures he experiences.

12mo. Handsomely printed and illustrated, and bound in cloth stamped in colors. Printed wrappers.

Price, 60 Cents per volume, postpaid

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES

By ARTHUR W. WINFIELD

American Stories of American Boys and Girls

A MILLION AND A HALF COPIES SOLD OF THIS SERIES

12mo. Cloth. Handsomely printed and illustrated.

Price per vol. 60c., postpaid

THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL
Or The Cadets of Putnam Hall

THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN
Or A Chase for a Fortune

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
Or Stirring Adventures in Africa

THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST
Or The Search for a Lost Mine

THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES
Or The Secret of the Island Cave

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS
Or A Hunt for Fame and Fortune

THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA
Or The Crusoes of Seven Islands

THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP
Or The Rivals of Pine Island

THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER
Or The Search for the Missing Houseboat

THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS
Or The Mystery of Red Rock Ranch

THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS
Or The Deserted Steam Yacht

THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM
Or The Last Days at Putnam Hall

THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE
Or The Strange Cruise of the Steam Yacht

THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE
Or The Right Road and the Wrong

THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST
Or The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR
Or From College Campus to the Clouds

THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK
Or Saving Their Father’s Honor

THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA
Or Lost in the Fields of Ice

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE; OR, LIVELY ADVENTURES ON WILDCAT ISLAND ***

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Table of Contents

- THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE
- CHAPTER I—THE BURNING STEAMBOAT
- CHAPTER II—TWO CLEVER ROGUES
- CHAPTER III—THE TELL-TALE PICTURE
- CHAPTER IV—THE PADDLE TO WILDCAT ISLAND
- CHAPTER V—A STRANGE HAPPENING
- CHAPTER VI—FRANK MAKES A GUESS
- CHAPTER VII—EXPLORING THE ISLAND
- CHAPTER VIII—OLD ENEMIES APPEAR
- CHAPTER IX—GUARDIANS OF THE CAMP
- CHAPTER X—FRANK TRIES TO FIGURE IT OUT
- CHAPTER XI—RECOVERING A STOLEN BOAT
- CHAPTER XII—DOWN THE SLOPE

- CHAPTER XIII—THE WILD MAN DEVELOPS AN APPETITE

- CHAPTER XIV—BLUFF TAKES CHANCES
- CHAPTER XV—PLAYING THE GAME
- CHAPTER XVI—SIGNS THAT SPELLED TROUBLE
- CHAPTER XVII—DEEPER INTO THE JUNGLE
- CHAPTER XVIII—UNDER THE CABIN WALL
- CHAPTER XIX—HOLDING BLUFF IN
- CHAPTER XX—THE ESCAPE OF JERRY
- CHAPTER XXI—THE LAST STRAW
- CHAPTER XXII—HOLDING THE FORT
- CHAPTER XXIII—THE WHITE FLAG
- CHAPTER XXIV—A NEW ALARM
- CHAPTER XXV—THE RESCUE—CONCLUSION
- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE