eans of finding out."

"Well, if I were you, I'd find out, some way or other."

"I'm going to find out--some day," replied Joe. "But, to tell the truth,
I don't know how to go at it. Uncle Hiram doesn't like to talk about it.
He thinks my father did wrong to go away. I imagine they had a quarrel
over it."

"Has he ever heard from your father since?"

"Not a word."

"Did he write?"

"He didn't know where to write to."

"Humph! It is certainly a mystery, Joe."

"You are right, Ned; and as I said before, I am going to solve it some
time, even if it takes years of work to do it," replied the hermit's
boy.

CHAPTER II.

A MYSTERIOUS CONVERSATION.

The old hunting lodge where the two boys had sought shelter was a
rambling affair, consisting of a square building built of logs, and half
a dozen wings, running to the rear and to one side. There were also two
piazzas, and a shed, where wood had been kept for winter use.

"In another year or two this old lodge will fall down," remarked Ned, as
he gazed around him.

"It must have been a nice place in its day," returned Joe. "What a pity
to let it run down in this fashion."

"The rain is coming around on this side now, Joe; let us shift to the
other."

The hermit's boy was willing, and watching their chance, between the
downpours, they ran around to another portion of the old lodge.

"It certainly is a little better here," observed Joe, as he dashed the
water from his cap.

A minute later the rumbling of the thunder ceased for the time being,
and they heard a murmur of voices coming from one of the rooms of the
lodge.

"Why, somebody must be here!" ejaculated Ned. "Who can it be?"

"Two men, by their voices," answered the hermit's boy. "Wait till I take
a look at them?"

"Why not go in?" questioned the rich youth, carelessly.

"They may not be persons that we would care to meet, Ned. You know there
are some undesirable characters about the lake."

"That's true."

Not far off was a narrow window, the panes of glass of which had long
since been broken out. Moving toward this, Joe peered into the apartment
beyond.

Close to an old fireplace, in which a few sticks of half-green timber
were burning, sat two men. Both were well dressed, and Joe rightfully
surmised that they were from the city. Each wore a hunting outfit and
had a gun, but neither had any game.

"We came on a wild-goose chase," grumbled one, as he stirred the fire.
"Got nothing b