At sundown they put up their rods and went back to camp. Ned had just
returned, bringing with him a pair of dressed chickens and a pail of
milk.

"These will make us a good dinner to-morrow," he said. "I had a hard
time finding the farmhouse. It was more than a mile away, and the path
led through the woods for nearly the whole distance. I suppose you are
pretty hungry by this time. If you all pitch in and help we'll soon have
supper."

In a short time the fire was blazing merrily. Ned was as good as his
word, and the _menu_ he set before the boys that night was a tempting
one. It included fried bass, ham and eggs, and baked potatoes, with milk
and pie for desert.

As the night was warm all indulged in a delicious swim after the supper
dishes were cleared up. At nine o'clock they turned in and tied the tent
flaps shut. Even this precaution was felt to be unnecessary, since the
very loneliness of the place was a protection against harm.

Randy, who occupied the proud position of log keeper to the Jolly
Rovers, sat up for a while to jot down the events of the cruise in a
blank book. He finally extinguished the lantern with a sigh of
satisfaction, and was soon sleeping beside his companions.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, but the boys did not get up until nine
o'clock. The pine needles made a couch that was hard to leave. The day
was observed in a spirit of proper regard. Its monotony was somewhat
alleviated by the dinner of fried chicken, but all were glad when night
came.

CHAPTER VII

BATTERS AND JOE

Ned was up with the sun on Monday morning. He pulled the tent flaps wide
open, so that the cool air would stream in and awaken his companions.
Then he threw a towel over his shoulder and marched down to the mouth of
the brook to wash his face and hands.

But this laudable purpose was quite driven from his mind by the
discovery which greeted his eyes when he arrived there. On the spit of
jutting sand which had formed at the junction of the creek and the brook
was the deep imprint of a boat's keel, and close by were half a dozen
large footsteps.

They looked quite fresh, and had evidently been made by two persons.
Some were long and pointed; others square toed, and shod with nails or
pegs.

As Ned gazed on these evidences of a nocturnal visit, he felt pretty
much as did Robinson Crusoe when he discovered the print of naked feet
on his island.

It was impossible to tell where these strangers had been