joined in the search
for Link Merwell.

"This is certainly too bad!" remarked Mr. Wadsworth, with a shake of his
head.

"And it was all my fault!" broke out Shadow, bitterly. "Oh, I could kick
myself full of holes every time I think of it!"

Over an hour had been spent in the woods surrounding the clearing on
Mirror Lake. During that time the men and the boys had stirred up
several small wild animals, but that had been all.

"He must have legged it for all he was worth after he jumped through the
window," was Roger's comment. "For all we know he may be miles away from
here by now."

"If he ran straight into those woods it was a hazardous proceeding,"
said Dunston Porter. "He'll become hopelessly lost in the darkness, and
when daylight comes he won't know how to turn to get out."

"Oh, perhaps he'll climb a tree and locate his surroundings that way,"
suggested Dave. "You must remember that Link isn't like a city fellow.
He was brought up in the wild West, and knows how to do for himself in
the open."

"We may as well give up the hunt," said Mr. Wadsworth, and turned toward
Bear Camp, followed by the others.

"Oh, Dave, did you catch him?" The cry came from Jessie, who stood on
the porch with the others, awaiting their return.

"No, he got away."

"That's too bad!"

"You should have kept him bound, Dave," said Laura.

"That's it, Dave," added Belle. "In the West they would tie a rascal
like Link fast to a tree with a lariat. If you secured him properly he
would stay there until you freed him."

"Well, there is no use in crying over spilt milk," remarked Mrs.
Basswood. "I suppose we may as well go to bed again." And on this the
others agreed.

Several days, including Sunday, passed, and nothing more was seen or
heard of Link Merwell or Ward Porton. During that time the young folks
went out on the lake several times, and also went fishing. Swimming was
mentioned, but as the weather was getting colder rapidly, only Dave and
Phil went in for a plunge. One day they planned to visit the
moving-picture people, but it rained and they did not go.

"It will soon be time for hunting," announced Roger. "I hope we do get a
chance to bring down something before we have to go back."

"Well, I'd like to have a crack at a deer, myself," answered Dave, who
had not forgotten the sport he had had on Squirrel Island and at other
places in the vicinity of Oak Hall.

"What's the matter with a crack at a bear?" interposed