a bother!" he cried, with an impatient stamp on the bottom of
the boat. "Well, he must think so, then."

To induce the spy upon his proceedings to go on in this belief, Fred
stooped down in the boat, and picked up and threw in an imaginary line.
After which, he took up one oar, and, standing upright, began to paddle
the boat in toward the bank, where a large birch drooped over and dipped
its delicate sprays of leaves almost into the surface of the lake.

"I'll moor her fast here," thought Fred, "and go ashore and warn Scar.
We can't do any more, with that fellow watching."

To this end, he paddled the boat close to the silver trunk of the birch,
whose roots ran down into the clear water, forming quite a delicate
fringe, amongst which the tiny perch loved to play.

He was in the act of fastening the chain as he stood up, and had passed
it round one of the lower boughs, being fairly well screened now from
Nat's observation by the delicate spray, when a fly seemed to tickle his
ear.

Fred struck at it viciously without looking round, and went on fastening
the chain, when the fly again seemed to tickle him, this time low down
in the nape of his neck.

"Get out! Will you?" he cried: and he turned, sharply struck at the
fly, and caught--

The end of the willow rod with its tuft of leaves.

"Oh!" he ejaculated, as the tug he gave at the wand was replied to by
another at the end; and as he looked, he saw that it came from out of a
dense mass of twiggy alder above his head, where a quantity of ivy grew.

"Scar," he cried, giving the wand a shake, "are you there?"

"Yes," came in a faint whisper that sounded very hollow and strange.
"Didn't you hear me shout!"

"No."

"I was afraid to cry too loud, because it goes backward so, rumbling all
along the passage. Whereabouts is it?"

"By the big birch-tree; just where we thought it couldn't be."

"Eh? Speak up."

"By the big birch-tree; just where we thought it couldn't be; and I
can't speak louder, because Nat's over the other side, watching."

"Can he see you now?"

"No. But are you all right!"

"Yes."

"You're higher up than I thought. Stop till I push the boat closer, and
I'll see if I can find any loose stones."

"Stop a minute," said Scarlett, in the same smothered voice, which
sounded faint as a whisper. "Let me see if I can move any of them."

Fred waited, and, peering through the twigs, he could see that Nat was
patiently waiting for him to c