"Him been here," he said. "Him came up dis way. But him no walk away."
"Didn't walk away!" ejaculated Tom.
"No. Udder footprints walk away, but not um Massah Dick."
"I don't understand, Cujo. Do you think he—fell into the lake?"
"Perhaps, Massah Tom—or maybe he get into boat."
Tom shook his head. "I don't know of any boats around here—do you?" he asked of Dick Chester.
"No," returned the young man from Yale. "But the natives living in the vicinity may have them."
"Perhaps a native dun carry him off," said Aleck. "He must be sumwhar, dat am certain."
"Yes, he must be somewhere," repeated Tom sadly.
By this time Sam and Randolph Rover were coming up, and also one of Dick Chester's friends. The college students were introduced to the others by Tom, and then a general hunt began for Dick, which lasted until the shades of night had fallen. But poor Dick was not found, and all wondered greatly what had, become of him.