twork and have a look at that
hole. If you head for a dozen feet this side of the light you'll likely
land where you are now."

Randy promised obedience, and departed in haste. Ned watched him
anxiously until he was out of sight. Then he sounded the water with his
paddle, and finding it quite shallow he climbed carefully out of the
canoe.

Holding the lantern in one hand, and clutching the projecting edge of
the dam with the other, he moved along foot by foot, submerged to his
waist. It was well that he had this support, for his feet were on the
sloping, mud incrusted planks.

When the broken place was three or four feet away the water began to
deepen. Ned stopped and flashed the light on the lower side of the dam.
He saw little there to comfort him.

The fall was about six feet, and at the bottom of the long, glassy sheet
of water which plunged through the break at a frightful speed, great
foam crested waves began, and rolled and tumbled in awful confusion as
far as the gleam of the bullseye could reach. That a canoe could go
through such a place without capsizing seemed an utter impossibility.

There was no sign of one, however, in the quiet eddies on either side of
the raging channel, and with this dismal scrap of comfort Ned retraced
his perilous journey to the canoe. He had hardly gained it, and climbed
in, when Randy and his companion paddled their craft alongside. That
companion was Clay. Nugget, then, was the missing Jolly Rover.

"Discover anything?" demanded Randy.

"No. It looks bad for poor Nugget, boys. If the canoe had gone through
all right he would have paddled to shore, and been making a big outcry
by this time."

"He can't be drowned. I won't believe it," cried Randy. "See here, Ned,
isn't it likely that Nugget caught hold of the canoe when it upset, and
clung to it? The roar of the water would account for your not hearing
his cries."

"It may be," said Ned reflectively, as he dashed a tear from his eye.
"If that's the case we will soon overtake him--provided he doesn't let
go his hold. Let's have a look at the right hand corner of the dam."

"Yes, that will be the most likely place," added Clay. "The race is on
the other side. I nearly blundered into it."

The boys paddled to shore, following the line of the dam, and a brief
search with the lantern revealed an easy path by which the canoes could
be carried around.

There was no sign of a house, and Clay reported none on the opposite
si