THE tall, handsome young man who came into view and who had been referred to as “Duke de Sassy” stopped short, his music nipped in two, and for an instant stood speechless. It was the same with Harvey Hamilton, who stared as if unable to believe his eyes. Val Hunter and Fred Wadsworth doubled over with laughter, and dropped on the log behind them.  
The latest arrival was the first to regain his self-command. It was a gasp rather than an exclamation:
 
“Well, I’ll be hanged!”
 
“Dick, as sure as I’m alive!” responded Harvey, rushing forward and grasping the hand of his elder brother, who dropped the string of fish he was carrying, and flinging an arm over the shoulders of the younger, pressed him to his breast. There could be no mistaking the affection of the two for each other, and both Hunter and Wadsworth felt ashamed of the harmless trick played their caller. They abruptly stopped their merriment and the Southerner swallowed a lump in his throat. He[136] had once been blessed with a younger brother, but kissed him their long, last farewell two years before. Wadsworth had never passed through the sorrowful experience, but he saw the emotion of his friend and respected it.
 
Dick and Harvey shook hands several times, laughed, slapped each other on the back, and asked and answered numerous questions before they awoke to the fact that others were near. Harvey had to tell about home and all the news concerning the folks. Neither they nor Harvey had thought of the brothers meeting, though it would seem that the fact that Harvey’s destination was the Adirondacks, where Dick was known to be, ought to have suggested the possibility of such a thing.
 
Grouped at the front of the tent the four youths had a merry chat, for all were in high spirits.
 
“The minute I looked at Harvey,” said Hunter, “I noticed his resemblance to Dick, but did not suspect the relationship until he gave his name. Then Fred and I knew before he furnished any more particulars that you were brothers. Since the Duke was absent, we felt it our duty to acquaint Harvey with a few facts about his big brother, though the task was anything but pleasant.”
 
“It seemed to give both of you a mighty lot of[137] pleasure,” said Harvey, who was so glad to see Dick that he reached over and shook hands with him again.
 
“Possibly you are correct, though we tried to keep down all signs of it, which reminds me that the dinner hour is approaching and even now is at hand.”
 
It being the turn of Hunter to serve in the culinary department, he sprang to his feet, walked over to where Dick Hamilton had dropped his string of mountain bass and carried them to the edge of the lake, where he began dressing and preparing them for the fire, which was burning briskly in the rough stone stove whose pattern, you will recall, was described in the “Catamount Series.”
 
All three of the young men were the sons of well-to-do parents and they went into the Adirondacks fully equipped for their outing of a month or more. The guide, Gideon Akers, had helped them in transporting their tent luggage and provisions, consisting of sugar, coffee, tea, prepared flour, condiments, ham, condensed milk, etc., and the necessary cooking utensils. After camp was made, the professional guide left, to fill an engagement with a larger party which penetrated much farther into the wilderness. That all were provided with firearms followed as a matter of course. Each[138] carried a Colt’s six-shooter, in addition to which Dick Hamilton had a small Winchester rifle. He needed no reminder that the game protectors in the Adirondacks are keen in their work, and it would have been very imprudent for him to shoot any big game during the close season. He had no intention of doing so, but he might need the larger weapon in some emergency.
 
When he wrote home to his father that he was on the trail of a gigantic buck, he told a partial truth. He had met such an animal twice, and knew its favorite haunt was in that region. The temptation to run the risk of bagging him was strong, and if all the circumstances were favorable, he was not sure he would not take a shot at him, though how to get the antlers home was a grave problem likely to involve him in difficulty, with the loss of the trophy and a tremendous fine to pay. However, that was a question which may be dismissed for the present.
 
As the three were seated on the log, Harvey told again the story of Professor Morgan, the cranky inventor, and the missing Bohunkus Johnson. The negro lad was strongly liked by Dick as well as his brother, and the sympathies of the elder were roused. He insisted that no thought or attention should be given to anything else until the colored[139] youth was rescued from what beyond question was a situation of gravest danger.
 
“And I can lead you almost to the spot,” added Dick. “As you know, I went off early this morning in the canoe which I drew up in the little inlet behind the tent where you didn’t see me. I paddled to the farther end of the lake to fish in a splendid spot and was there when that monoplane sailed by and dropped down among the rocks and trees not more than half a mile away.”
 
“Did you notice where it landed?” asked Harvey.
 
“Not precisely, for my position was so low that it dropped out of sight before coming down, but I can hit it pretty closely. What is your plan, Harv?”
 
“Let us all start for the section as soon as we have finished dinner, and then scatter and begin our search. We can’t miss it.”
 
A difficulty presented itself. The canoe was not buoyant enough to carry the four, though possibly it might bear three. It was six miles at least to the end of the lake and the tramp was a hard one because of the roughness of the country, while the water offered the easiest kind of a passage. Dick struck the solution. Addressing Val Hunter and Fred Wadsworth he said:
 
“There is not the slightest need of you going[140] with us. Harv and I will paddle to the northern end. We shall then be quite near where there is every reason to believe Bunk is a prisoner. When it isn’t best to paddle any farther we shall pull the canoe up into the bushes and hide it. Then Harv and I will separate. We know how to signal to Bunk, who will recognize the call and answer it. If the Professor doesn’t come back and interfere it will be as easy as rolling off a log.”
 
“That shuts us out altogether,” said Hunter, “which we don’t like.”
 
“Not by a large majority,” added Wadsworth.
 
“I shall leave the glass with you, and when the monoplane comes in sight you can study every movement and quite likely pick up useful information.”
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