“I guess you can’t tell me what I want to know,” the tramp resumed. “I’m much obliged though. About how far is it to the lake?”
“Twelve miles from here,” replied Bart.
“Well, I guess I can make it by night,” the man said, and then he drew back into the bushes and the boys could hear him tramping through the woods.
“What made you ask him about the gilt crown?” inquired Frank.
“Because he partly described the man we saw at the hut that day,” replied Ned, “and I thought I might as well complete it. I guess he’s here to add to the mystery. It’s getting deeper. We must certainly solve it; or try to, at any rate.”
“You’d make a mystery out of a fish jumping for a fly,” said Frank. “Let up on it.”
“Whew! But it’s hot!” exclaimed Bart, as the boat was sent on, coming from the shady nook into the glare of the sun. “I’m going to stay in all morning.”
They were soon at the swimming hole, and lost little time in getting into the water. Its coolness was a welcome relief from the heat and they splashed about in great glee.
The boys were making such a noise, laughing and yelling that they did not hear the hail of a youth who came down to the edge of the bank, a little later, and shouted at them. Finally, however, he managed to make his presence known by a shrill whistle in imitation of a whip-poor-will.