, "Lake Otasco is
better than the hot pavements of New York City a hundred times over."

The two boys soon set off. Harry had expected Blumpo to accompany them,
but that youth was out in his own boat with a party that had hired the
craft for several days.

"Blumpo is making money," said Harry, "and I am glad of it."

"So am I," replied our hero. "He is an odd sort of chap, but his heart is
of gold."

The Whistler was soon on her way up the lake with old Jack Broxton at the
tiller, and as the breeze was steady the boys had little to do but talk.
Once again our hero related his story, and Harry proved a most attentive
listener.

"That Alexander Slocum ought to go to prison for life," he said, at the
conclusion. "The idea of daring to make out that Nellie Ardell was
insane."

"It was a bold scheme, Harry."

"It seems to me the world is full of bad people, Jerry. Look at such men
as that Slocum and his tools, and then at such boys as Si Peters and Wash
Crosby."

"Where do you suppose Crosby and Peters are?"

"The authorities don't know. But Blumpo told me a few days ago he was
almost certain he had seen them on the north shore of the lake. He said
they took to their heels in the bushes just about the time he spotted
them."

"They are bound to be brought to justice sooner or later."

"I don't know. But I do know one thing; I would like to get back my gold
watch."

Thus the talk ran on, until Hermit Island was reached. Here they run in
for a few minutes, to pass a word with Blumpo's father, who greeted them
cordially. After this, they continued up along the south side of the
lake.

As they skirted the beautiful shore they gradually crept up to a large
excursion boat. "Hullo, what's that boat doing here?" cried Jerry.

"It's a Sunday-school excursion from Cedar Falls," replied his chum.

The steamboat was not a large one and she seemed to have more than her
regular allowance of passengers aboard. Every deck was full of grown folks
and children, dressed in their best.

A band was playing a merry air, and some of the children were singing.

"Let's give them a cheer," suggested the young oarsman, as they drew
closer.

"All right," replied Harry, pulling out his handkerchief. "One, two,
three. Hurrah! hur----"

Harry stopped short, as a cry of horror arose on board of the excursion
boat.

A young girl had been standing close to the rail on a camp stool at the
bow of the boat.

As the steamboat swung a