“It may be that old man I saw,” replied Bob. “Or it may be nothing but a trap.”
“That’s no trap,” said Frank, as the scream again reached them.
“Don’t sound so, surely. Come on!”
Standing on the bow of the boat, Bob made a leap and reached the rocky shore. In a minute he had dashed through the willows to the open glade beyond.
A sight met his gaze that filled him with horror. There, lying flat on his back, with his face covered with blood, was old man Blake!
CHAPTER XXIX
BOB HEARS INTERESTING NEWS
The old man had been struck in the head with a heavy stick which lay close at hand.
“Hullo, who did this?” cried Bob, as he leaned over the old man.
“Casco, the villain!” gasped old Blake.
“Too bad!” returned the young photographer, kindly. “Let me examine the wound.”