All three of the young men were the sons of well-to-do parents and they went into the Adirondacks fully equipped for their outing of a month or more. The guide, Gideon Akers, had helped them in transporting their tent luggage and provisions, consisting of sugar, coffee, tea, prepared flour, condiments, ham, condensed milk, etc., and the necessary cooking utensils. After camp was made, the professional guide left, to fill an engagement with a larger party which penetrated much farther into the wilderness. That all were provided with firearms followed as a matter of course. Each carried a Colt’s six-shooter, in addition to which Dick Hamilton had a small Winchester rifle. He needed no reminder that the game protectors in the Adirondacks are keen in their work, and it would have been very imprudent for him to shoot any big game during the close season. He had no intention of doing so, but he might need the larger weapon in some emergency.
When he wrote home to his father that he was on the trail of a gigantic buck, he told a partial truth. He had met such an animal twice, and knew its favorite haunt was in that region. The temptation to run the risk of bagging him was strong, and if all the circumstances were favorable, he was not sure he would not take a shot at him, though how to get the antlers home was a grave problem likely to involve him in difficulty, with the loss of the trophy and a tremendous fine to pay. However, that was a question which may be dismissed for the present.
As the three were seated on the log, Harvey told again the story of Professor Morgan, the cranky inventor, and the missing Bohunkus Johnson. The negro lad was strongly liked by Dick as well as his brother, and the sympathies of the elder were roused. He insisted that no thought or attention should be given to anything else until the colored youth was rescued from what beyond question was a situation of gravest danger.
“And I can lead you almost to the spot,” added Dick. “As you know, I went off early this morning in the canoe which I drew up in the little inlet behind the tent where you didn’t see me. I paddled to the farther end of the lake to fish in a splendid spot and was there when that monoplane sailed by and dropped down among the rocks and trees not more than half a mile away.”
“Did you notice where it landed?” asked Harvey.
“Not precisely, for my position was so low that it dropped out of sight before coming down, but I can hit it pretty closely. What is your plan, Harv?”
“Let us all start for the section as soon as we have finished dinner, and then scatter and begin our search. We can’t miss it.”
A difficulty presented itself. The canoe was not buoyant enough to carry the four, though possibly it might bear three. It was six miles at least to the end of the lake and the tramp was a hard one because of the roughness of the country, while the water offered the easiest kind of a passage. Dick struck the solution. Addressing Val Hunter and Fred Wadsworth he said:
“There is not the slightest need of you going with us. Harv and I will paddle to the northern end. We shall then be quite near where there is every reason to believe Bunk is a prisoner. When it isn’t best to paddle any farther we shall pull the canoe up into the bushes and hide it. Then Harv and I will separate. We know how to signal to Bunk, who will recognize the call and answer it. If the Professor doesn’t come back and interfere it will be as easy as rolling off a log.”
“That shuts us out altogether,” said Hunter, “which we don’t like.”