They made all reasonable haste, and managed to reach the camp in due
time.
When Frank heard what had happened he was very angry.
"Some more of the mean work of that crowd. I believe it must have been
Andy himself who pushed you in. A dirty trick. How did he know whether
you could swim or not?" he said, after the tale was told.
"Oh, well, it wasn't a case of swimming, for the water wasn't five feet
deep, and all I had to do was to crawl out again. But it was wet, you
see, and a fellow feels mighty uncomfortable all soaked. Just wait, I'll
get even with him some day for that trick. I've got the rascal located
all right. One of his shoes had a patch on the sole I'd know again."
"A clever idea," admitted the other, in admiration; "and I hope you find
him out, no matter who he may be. First they stone our camp; after that
they try to burn us out; and now some busybody throws you into the lake.
What next, I wonder?"
"You forget the worst thing of all--the stealing of my gun!"
grumbled Bluff.
"Well, I wish Jerry was back. I hate to think of him wandering around in
the woods in the storm that's coming, for it's going to be a corker,"
remarked Frank, eying the darkening sky with uneasiness.
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