“This is a joke on us!” he exclaimed. “See! there are the fellows’ fishing rods. They were doubtless out hunting when night came on, became separated, and are trying to find each other and their camp. We’ve run away from men who had no thought of pursuing us,” and again he laughed heartily.

Before his comrade could speak a cry came from the main shore.

“Hello there! Who are you in our camp?”

“I ought to know that voice,” the young scout said to the courier. Then he replied:

“Is that you, Joe?”

“Yes, but who are you?”

“Ira Le Geyt.”

“Hurrah!” came back across the little pond. “We’ll jine ye in a minute.”

There was a noise as of splashing water for a moment, and then two young lads came into the dim light of the camp-fire.

“Glad to see you, Ira,” they b. . . Read More