.

It was a shock to both of them. The whole incident had been uncanny
and unreal, but the horror of that haggard, haunting face was
still strong upon both of the beholders.

"Tom, we simply must get off our clothes and dive to see what
we can do to find that poor fellow," urged Dalzell.

"All right," assented Reade. "I'll do all the diving myself,
Danny, if you'll take command and give your orders. Where shall
I dive? The bushes have already shifted position. We're floating
away from the spot, too. Just where do you want me to make the
first dive?"

"I don't know," Dan Dalzell confessed. "The whole affair has
given me the creeps, I think."

"I know it has done that to me," smiled Tom unsteadily. "Whew!
I'll dream of that face to-night---all night long! Dan, there
seems to be just about one chance in a thousand that that man
will reach shore. Let's keep the craft headed to the shore, and
watch for some minutes to come. At the same time, if we see a
sign of the poor fellow, we'll swim to him, or paddle to him as
fast as we know how."

Both boys knew, inwardly, that they would be heartily glad to
get away from what seemed plainly to them to be a haunted spot.
Yet neither cared to admit his dread to the other. So, talking
rather busily, they remained on the spot for fully another ten
minutes.

"We won't see anything come out of the water now," Tom asserted
at last. "Even if we do, it will be a drowned man."

"I guess we may as well get back to camp," Danny agreed. "Yet
it is going to be an awfully creepy night for all of us, with
this weird mystery of the lake on our minds."

"Don't paddle yet," begged Tom. "I'll give a hail, and see if
that brings any answer."

Raising his voice, Reade shouted lustily:

"Hello, there, friend? Are you safe? Want any help?"

"Anything we can do for you, friend?" bawled Dan Dalzell, in his
most resonant tone.

Only the mocking echoes of their own questions came back to them.

"Beat the water with the paddle. Danny," advised Reade after
they had waited for some moments. "We've more than a mile to
go. Whip up the water. If you get tired, pass the paddle back
to me."

"I'm not sorry to get away from that place," breathed Dalzell,
after at least a hundred lusty strokes.

"Nor I," confessed Reade. "I'm beginning to get a headache already
from trying to figure out what it all meant. Danny, describe
that haunting face just as you saw it."

"Ugh! I h