e-thirty!" put in Sam. "We'll have to
hustle, fellows."

"Oh, we can get back in an hour easily enough," put in Tom.

"But we've got to clean out the boat and clean up ourselves," came from
Fred. "Come, fellows, wind up and put away your hooks and poles."

He started and the others followed. Then Fred and Powell took the oars,
and the return to camp was begun. Not caring to go back the same way
they had come, they sped along the opposite shore of the lake, where
were located several coves and cliffs of rock.

"This is as pretty as the other shore," remarked Songbird. And he
began:

"Oh, dreamy days in summer time,
When purling brooks and shady nooks--"

"If you start up again I'll jump overboard," interrupted Tom.

"Do so, you need a cooling off," grunted Powell; but that was the end
of the poetry for the time being.

They were just passing one of the coves when they caught sight of a man
sitting on an overhanging tree, fishing.

"Hullo, what luck?" cried Fred, good-naturedly.

"Fair," was the somewhat surly answer. Then, as the man caught sight of
the others in the boat, he turned his head away.

"That fellow looks familiar to me," ejaculated Sam, in sudden and
strong excitement.

"And he looks familiar to me, too," exclaimed Tom.

"Do you think it is Arnold Baxter?"

"If it isn't, it's his double," went on Tom. "Row the boat over quick,
boys."

"Who is this Arnold Baxter? The father of Dan Baxter?" questioned Fred.

"The same, Fred."

"The fellow who escaped from prison, or the hospital?" asked Powell.

"That's the chap."

Without delay the rowboat was turned in toward the overhanging tree.

Scarcely had this been done when the fisherman pulled in his line with
all speed, took up his string of fish and ran into the bushes between
two cliffs of rocks.

"He is getting out, and in a hurry too!" said Fred.

"Hi, there, stop! We want to talk to you!" sang out Tom, at the top of
his lungs.

"Ain't got time," roared back the strange fisherman, and on the instant
he was gone.

"It must have been Arnold Baxter, beyond a doubt," said Sam.

"If it was, what is he doing here?" questioned his brother.

"He's keeping out of the reach of the law," answered Powell. "I suppose
he thought he was perfectly safe in such an out-of-the-way place as
this."

"And he was fishing just to kill time," put in Fred.

"I'd like to go after him and make sure," went on Tom. "What do you
say, Sam?"

"I am wit