"Well, I declare—where did you fellows drop from? Where's old sleepy-head?"  
"Street-cars and trucks, so we meet again, eh?"
 
Nat Wingate and Kirk Talbot uttered these exclamations¹, as the two encountered Bob Somers, accompanied by Sam Randall, on the following morning.
 
"Having any further trouble with your old tub?" asked Nat.
 
"Not much," answered Bob, dryly; "don't expect to, either. It's at the bottom of Wolf River."
 
"What?—Say, where does the joke come in, Somers? I don't catch on."
 
"The 'Rambler' was set on fire and blown into bits yesterday by some mean scoundrel."
 
"Come now, what are you trying to give us?" protested Nat, incredulously, while Kirk Talbot fairly gasped³ with astonishment⁴.
 
"You don't expect me to believe a fishy⁵ yarn⁶ like that, do you?"
 
For an answer, Bob told the two Nimrods all about the destruction of the "Rambler," and their long tramp to the railroad station.
 
"Little and big fishes, if that isn't the worst I ever heard!" cried Kirk, with wide-open eyes. "Haven't you any idea who could have worked such a game on you?"
 
"Not the slightest."
 
"Christopher! Mighty⁷ tough luck, I must say," admitted Nat. "I can hardly believe it yet. Save anything, Somers?"
 
"Not enough to notice."
 
"Wow, won't your father be mad, though? Didn't you know any better than to leave the tub? Thought after we got out there was no danger, eh?"
 
Nat exhibited a trace of the sneering⁸, unpleasant manner which had largely served to keep him out of the Rambler Club.
 
"Never was more surprised in my life," declared Kirk Talbot; "can't imagine why any one should have done it. Didn't you have a scrap⁹ with anybody, or raise a shindy in that town back there?"
 
"No!"
 
"Maybe 'pa' touched off the fuse," began Nat, laughing uproariously. "Say, Somers, didn't that yellow head take a dandy slide in the water? Oh, my, I guess he was wild, eh? My stars, the funniest sight I ever saw. Ha, ha!" Then suddenly becoming serious, he added: "Suppose you'll go back home now?"
 
"No, we are going to keep right on."
 
"What for?"
 
"You know my father has some land—"
 
"Come in with our crowd, Somers. Can't you see enough mud and rocks without going off to the edge of the earth?"
 
"We can have a dandy time, hunting and fishing. Have the use of our boat, too. She'll hold ten, easily. What do you say?"
 
"That your offer is very kind, but—"
 
"Oh, say," interrupted Kirk, "what's the matter with you fellows, anyway? Thought you were going to have some fun. More sport when there's a big crowd. I'm awfully¹⁰ sorry your boat is gone, but that's only a good reason why you should join us."
 
"Which way are you going?"
 
"To where John 'Hatchet¹¹' clubbed that tame old wildcat," laughed Nat. "My eye, Hacky's a wonder when there's no one looking on."
 
"All had your backs turned, and running like mad?" inquired Sam, innocently.
 
"You guessed it, my little salt," returned Nat, with a grin. "Are you going with us, or not?"
 
"If you keep on Clair Bay, we will."
 
"And if we don't, you won't, that's it, hey? You've given us an ul-ti-ma-tum, as they say, when big words are sprung on us. All right, Somers, we'll think it over, and let you know. Come on, Kirky; Ted² may need these pills."
 
"What's the matter with Pollock?"
 
"Oh, he got sick yesterday. Ate some of Hackett's cooking. Must say it was a narrow escape. We'll see you later." And with a wave of his hand, Nat and his companion moved off.
 
"Wingate's a queer fellow," declared Bob; "we wouldn't have him in our club, yet he turns around and wants us to come in with his. It's funny; I never thought Nat was that kind of a fellow."
 
"Oh, I'll bet Wingate is up to something," said Sam; "thinks, maybe, that he is smart enough to play some trick on us. Nat will bear watching. Smooth, just like his uncle."
 
Clair Bay, while not a large town, possessed¹² several handsome buildings, but the boys found that the police station was not among the number. It stood just off a main thoroughfare. A flight of steps led up to a rather wide, but dingy-looking entrance.
 
"Glad we don't have to stay here long," observed Sam, with a grimace¹³.
 
They pushed open the door and entered. Before them was a square room, lighted by two large windows. Three benches occupied as many sides, while in one corner stood a railing and desk.
 
Within the enclosure sat an elderly, gray-haired official. He looked up as the boys entered.
 
"What can I do for you, young men?" he asked.
 
Bob Somers related his story.
 
"Humph!" muttered the official. He glanced over the rim¹⁴ of his eye-glasses at the boys, then began to question them.
 
The Ramblers had no intention of mentioning Nat Wingate and his crowd, but, under the fire of persistent¹⁵ queries¹⁶, even the fact that the Nimrods' leader had threatened them came out. Bob, however, assured the official that no suspicion could be attached to their rivals.
 
"I don't know that we can give you much hope," said the official, at the conclusion of their interview; "but we will do the best we can."
 
"Now for the post-office!" exclaimed Bob. "I'll break the news to my dad as gently as I can. I wouldn't like to see his face when he gets the letter."
 
"There's the post-office across the street," said Sam.
 
In th............