ed if he
hasn't found something that will float. He's the one sincere
fisherman of the crowd, and the bass certainly have hypnotized
him."

"Race you back to camp," offered Dick.

"Come back," laughed Dave, "and make a fair start."

But Dick kept on, laughing back at his distanced comrades. Prescott
ran like a deer, as was to be expected from one who had played
left end on the invincible Gridley High School eleven.

Just as he bounded on to the camp ground Dick's glance fell on
a packing box some four feet long.

"This doesn't belong here," he muttered, bounding forward, then
dropping on one knee beside the box.

In amazed wonder he read the following inscription, from a card
tacked to the box:

"Will Dick Prescott accept the enclosed and keep it as trustee
for Dick & Co.? From a most appreciative friend---two of them,
in fact!"

"Now, what on earth can this be?" Dick demanded, as Dave reached
his side.

Darry read the message on the card with growing wonder.

"Greg," directed Dick, "trot into the camp and get a hammer and
the cold chisel. Hustle!"

Full of curiosity, Greg Holmes carried out the order at a run.

"Here you are!" panted Holmes.

Dick took the cold chisel, placed the edge against one side of
the lid, and was about to strike the first blow when Darry snatched
the hammer from his hand.

"What ails you?" Prescott demanded.

"Suspicion," Dave replied dryly. "In fact, I've a bad case of
suspiciousness."

"What are you talking about?" Dick insisted.

"I don't know," Dave admitted. "But I've something of a shivery
hunch that perhaps we'd better not open that box."

"What, then? Toss it into the lake?"

"Even that might not be as foolish as it sounds to you," Darry
went on. "How do we know what that box contains!"

"We never will know until we open it," declared Greg impatiently.

"And then we might be mighty sorry that we opened it," Dave continued.

"You think that there is something suspicious about the box?"
queried Prescott.

"Oh, the box looks all right," Dave laughed. "But the contents
might prove more than a disappointment. A real danger, for instance."

"Do you really think so?" Dick mused wonderingly.

"Well, let's not be too rash," Darrin urged. "When I try to think
of the friends who might take the trouble to come away out here
to leave something for us, about the dearest friends I can think
of are---Dodge and Bayliss."

"And what would they leave in the