rtment was vacant, and they now saw that
the fire in the fireplace had been stamped out.

"They must have left while we were in the woodshed," said Ned.

"Maybe they are out on the lake," answered the hermit's boy, and he ran
down to the water's edge, followed by his companion. But though they
looked in every direction, not a craft of any kind was to be seen.

"Joe, they didn't take to the water, consequently they must have left by
one of the mountain paths."

"That is true, and if they did they'll have no nice time in getting
through. All the bushes are sopping wet, and the mud is very slippery in
places."

They walked to the rear of the lodge and soon found the footprints of
the two strangers. They led through the bushes and were lost at a small
brook that ran into the lake.

"There is no use of our trying to follow this any further," said Joe.
"You'll get your clothing covered with water and mud."

"I don't intend to follow," answered Ned. "Just the same, I should like
to know more about those fellows."

"I wish I had seen their faces."

"Yes, it's a pity we didn't get a better look at them. But I'd know
their voices."

By the time they gave up the hunt the sun was shining brightly. Both
walked to where the boat had been left, and Joe turned the craft over
so that the water might run out. Then he mopped off the seats as best he
could.

Ned wanted to go directly home, and he and Joe rowed the craft in the
direction of Riverside. As they passed along the lake shore the hermit's
boy noted that several trees had been struck by lightning.

"I'm glad the lightning didn't strike the lodge while we were there,"
said he.

"It was certainly a severe storm while it lasted, Joe. By the way, shall
I say anything about those two men?"

"Perhaps it won't do any harm to tell your father, Ned."

"Very well, I'll do it."

Soon Riverside was reached, and having paid for the fish and the outing,
Ned Talmadge walked in the direction of his residence. Joe shoved off
from the tiny dock and struck out for his home. He did not dream of the
calamity that awaited him there.

CHAPTER III.

A HOME IN RUINS.

As Joe rowed toward his home on the mountain side, a good mile from
Riverside, he could not help but think of the two mysterious men and of
what they had said.

"They were certainly rascals," he mused. "And from their talk they
must have come from New York and are now going to try some game in
Philadelphia