They
had brought the deer close to the spot where the rowboat had been
tied up, and now Whopper went to get the craft. Soon he returned in
anxiety.
"Didn't we tie up here?" he questioned.
"Certainly," answered Giant.
"The boat is gone."
"Gone!" came from all of the others.
"Yes."
A rush was made for the lake front, and they gazed in blank amazement
at the spot where the craft had been left.
"We haven't made any mistake, have we?" asked Snap, slowly.
"No; this is the very spot," said Whopper. "I know it by that tree
yonder."
"Whopper is right," put in Giant.
"Then one of two things has happened. Either the boat drifted
away-----"
"It couldn't drift away---it was too well tied."
"Then somebody took it."
"Perhaps the fellow who visited our camp!" cried Whopper.
There was a moment of awkward silence. Each youth was wondering
what was best to do next.
"Hi, you fellows!" came from nearby. "Stop!"
They turned, to find themselves confronted by Dick Bush, the dude,
and another of the rival campers, named Carl Dudder.
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