Will proved to be a poor fisherman after all, especially when he had his
adored camera along, for he presently wandered off again.
"Don't go too far," warned Bluff, as he sat on the end of a log that
jutted out over the water a yard or more.
Engrossed with his sport, Bluff hardly noticed how time passed. Hearing a
step back of him, he called out:
"I got three more; what luck did you have, Will?"
He heard what sounded like a chuckling laugh back of him; and before he
could turn some one gave him a strong push. Bluff went over with a splash
into the lake.
CHAPTER XIII
THE COMING OF THE STORM
Bluff came up spluttering.
"Help! help!" he shouted, involuntarily, as well as a mouth half full of
water would permit.
But there was no one in sight. Whoever had shoved him into the lake had
mysteriously vanished, though a movement in the bushes told the direction
of his flight.
Recovering from the shock, Bluff found that he could clamber out without
much difficulty, and he hastened to do so.
His cries had been heard, however, for presently the sound of some one
running wildly came to his ears, and Will burst into view.
At sight of the dripping fisherman he broke into a shout.
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