dies
and swirls. Hence the pilots and shippers of small boats on the lake, if
they are wise, keep their weather eyes well peeled for any disturbance
that may augment the natural roughness of this body of water.

Mr. Perry and his three boy companions were all well aware of the wisdom
of weather caution while cruising in the Catwhisker. In the morning
before starting, they had consulted the Government forecast and found the
outlook favorable, but they were well aware of the fact that absolute
dependence should not be put upon even so learned a being as a Great
Lakes weather man.

Bud made the first score in the frequent attempts to get a message to the
"island prisoner". Conditions in the ether became much better toward
evening when a cool wind began to blow. Just before sending the message
that reached its goal, Bud received the following from VAX:

"Where are you? Can't you reach me? Nobody in sight yet. Ate my last
crust of bread an hour ago. Have to drink lake water to keep alive. Try
again to get a message to me."

Bud tried again and received the following reply:

"Got you faintly. Try again. Where are you?"

But fifteen minutes elapsed before the boy at the key was able to score
again. After that, however, they had no difficulty in reaching "Crusoe
island" with key and spark.

Then arose the question as to whether they should attempt to find the
"radio Crusoe's" island that evening or should seek a suitable mooring
place and postpone the search until morning.

"There's one matter to be taken up before we decide to go much further
to-night," said Mr. Perry, who had just turned the wheel over to Hal and
joined the conference in the cabin.

"What's that?" asked Cub.

"The weather. We're right at the beginning of the Thousand Isles now, but
we can have a nasty time of it anywhere in the upper part of the river in
a storm. The wind is getting pretty lively, and you know how much the
temperature has dropped."

"Oh, I can take care of that," Bud declared eagerly. "I've been having a
chat with a 'ham' somewhere along the coast. I'm sure he'll get the
evening forecast for me."

As he spoke, Bud dropped his eye on the log where he had made note of the
shore "ham's" call and then began to tune for his wave length. To his
gratification, he found the fellow busy with his spark and waited till
the message was finished; then he threw his aerial switch into sending
and lettered the call. The "ham" answered and aske