“Here’s how,” struck in one of the officers, holding up a strand of rope, “he slipped through the knots.”
“Serves me right for taking chances with such an old fox,” muttered the leader, self-reproachfully.
“Anyhow we got the rest of them,” said the man who had recognized Rob, “better luck next time.”
“Dere ain’t agoin’ ter be no next time,” muttered Jumbo disconsolately, “dat five hundred dollars and dat gas wagon I was a-gwine ter buy hab taken de wings ob de mawning!”
The lake was reached shortly before dawn. True to their promise, the revenue men put Rob and Jumbo ashore at the Boy Scouts’ camp. The amazement and delight their arrival caused can be better imagined than set down here. Anyhow, for a long time nothing but confused fusillades of questions and scattered answers could be heard. Much hand-shaking, back-slapping and shouting also ensued. It was a joyous reunion. Only one thing marred it. The canoes were still missing, and without them they could not proceed.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE FOREST MONARCH.
“Say, what’s that up yonder—there, away toward the head of the lake?”
Tubby, standing on a rock by the rim of the lake where he had just been performing his morning’s ablutions, pointed excitedly.
“I can’t see a thing but the wraiths of mist,” rejoined Merritt, who was beside him. The lads were stripped to the waist. Their skin looked pink and healthy in the early morning light.
“Well, you ought to consult an oculist,” scornfully rejoined Tubby, “you’ve got fine eyes for a Boy Scout—not.”