ssly
that he was in camp before the others realized his presence.

"Well-----?" asked Dick eagerly.

"Come into the tent, fellows," whispered Dave.

When Darrin had them inside he went on, in a low voice:

"It's the Dodge car, all right. I hid behind a tree nearby the
car and waited until they returned. When they found the front
tires missing they were furious. Bayliss said we fellows had
done it, but Bert said he didn't believe we were anywhere near
here as yet. I slipped away and left them arguing. Dodge wants
Bayliss to walk to the nearest place where he can telephone to
a garage to send a man out with new tires. Bayliss says it's
the Dodge car, and Bert can do the walking. It looks as though
they would come to blows, and, as I've been gently reared, with
a distaste for fighting, I slipped away."

"If they want to come down and look along the edge of this lake,
they'll soon find out where their tires are," Dick Prescott chuckled.
"But they'll have to come right in here to camp and ask for their
property."

"Which they won't greatly care about doing," laughed Reade.

"Let them stay away until their nerves improve, then," said Dick
briefly. "Now, let's see; we've got to set up the cots and bedding,
and get the two lanterns filled and trimmed for the evening.
That ought not to take many minutes."

Nor did it. When this had been done, Dick asked:

"Fellows, you know what we came here to do? Fish wouldn't taste
bad for supper, would it? Which two of you want to go and try
your luck for perch? They'll bite, even after dark."

Tom and Hazelton made a hasty selection of tackle, also producing
a can of bait that had been brought along from Gridley.

Then Tom and Harry disappeared, taking with them one of the lanterns.
A quarter of a mile below the camp were the ruins of an old pier
from which they could cast their lines.

Where the perch are plentiful there is little skill involved in
such fishing. Perch will bite after dark. The hook is baited
and dropped in. The fish take hold greedily, rarely falling from
the hook afterward.

While Tom and Harry were still fishing darkness fell. The two
Gridley boys fished on in silence, adding frequently to the two
crotched stick "strings" that flopped on the end of the pier.

"We've thirty-nine perch. That's enough, even for a hungry crowd
like ours," said Tom at last, after lighting the lantern.

"Here is the fortieth, then," called Hazelton, as he f