“Are you sure you saw a man?” asked Grant skeptically.

“I know I did,” replied George with the utmost conviction.

“What did he look like?”

“He looked like a tramp; a rough looking sort of a fellow with a black beard and an old slouch hat.”

“Only one man?”

“That’s all I saw.”

“What shall we do?” demanded Fred blankly.

“We’ll go down and see what he wants,” said George in a matter of fact tone. “What else is there to do?”

“Suppose he’s looking for trouble?” suggested Fred.

“Well then, he’ll find it,” said George grimly. “There are four of us to his one.”

“He may not be alone,” said Fred. “I think we’d better go slow.”

“Grant has a gun.”

“But he’s not going to use it,” said Grant quickly. “You don’t catch me shooting at anybody, tramp or no tramp. I don’t want any blood on my head.”

“Suppose they attack us?” demanded George.

“‘They,’” exclaimed Grant. “I thought you said you saw only one.”

“That’s all I did see. There may be more of them though.”

“Probably a couple of guides,” said John. “Let’s go find out anyway.”

“I’d be careful,” warned Fred. “There’s no use in taking chances.”

“What’s the matter with you, Fred?” demanded George. “What are you so nervous about?”

“I don’t know. It seems funny to me though that a man like that should be hanging around our tent.”

“He’s probably waiting for us to come back.”

“Then why did he duck behind the tent the minute he saw us?”

“Maybe he didn’t see us at all.”

“The thing to do is to go down there and find out,” exclaimed Grant. “Come on, Pop, you and I will go anyway.”

“And so will I,” added John.

“I’ll go myself,” said Fred. “I’m not afraid; all I said was that I thought we ought to be careful.”

“We’ll be careful,” George assured him. “Come along.”

The little band once again started towards the tent. As Fred had remarked it seemed a strange thing that any man like the one George had seen should be loitering around their camp. They had had no visitors that summer aside from their opponents in the water sports and Mr. Maxwell, and the appearance of a stranger on the island was unusual enough to cause them some alarm.

Side by side they walked towards the spot where their tent was pitched. No further sign of their visitor appeared and this in itself made the four boys somewhat uneasy.

“Where did he go, do you suppose?” whispered John.

“Are you sure you saw a man, Pop?” demanded Grant.

“Of course I did. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Where is he then? No one else saw him.”

George made no reply to this remark and in complete silence they continued on their way. At length they came to the tent itself but no one was to be seen. They peered inside, but it was empty of any living person. Grant turned to George triumphantly.

“You’re seeing things to-day,” he laughed. He laid the heron on the ground in front of the tent and placed his gun inside.

“I saw a man,” insisted George.

“And you tried to make me see a live heron that was dead,” said Grant.

“It’s certainly strange,” muttered George. “I know I saw a man. I’d take my dying oath on it.”

“But where is he?” demanded Grant.

“That’s just what I say,” rejoined George. “Where is he?”

“He doesn’t seem to be—” began John, when he suddenly stopped. “Look,” he cried and pointed towards the shore.

Two men were seated under a small tree which grew half-way between the wharf and the tent. Their backs were towards the boys so that it was impossible to see who they were. The back view however was not very reassuring. The strangers appeared to be rough and unkempt and were busily engaged in eating some food they had evidently helped themselves to from the stores of the four young campers. Both men seemed entirely unaware that they were being watched.

“How did they get there without our seeing them?” whispered John. “Pop saw one of them up by the tent.”

“The tent is between that tree and the place where we were standing,” said George. “It shut off our view and they probably walked down there while we were coming towards the tent.”

“What shall we do?” whispered Fred.

“Yell at them,” suggested John.

“Don’t you do it,” cautioned Grant quickly.

“For goodness’ sake,” exclaimed George suddenly in a low voice. “Don’t any one of you fellows move,” he ordered them. “Just wait here for me.”

He turned and darted quickly inside the tent while his three companions were completely mystified by his strange behavior. They gazed after him in amazement.

“What’s he after?” asked John in a whisper.

“Maybe he went for the gun,” suggested Fred.

“I wonder if he did,” exclaimed Grant. “We mustn’t have that,” and he started to follow George inside the tent.

Just as he was about to lift the flap and enter, however, George suddenly appeared. He held one of the young campers’ big balsam pillows in each hand and he wore a queer expression on his face. His three friends looked at him in amazement not unmixed with alarm.

“What are you going to do?” demanded Grant.

“Ssh!” hissed George. “Watch me.”

He cautiously stole forward in the direction of the two men. His companions were too surprised to make any effort to restrain him. Open-mouthed they stood and watched him stealthily approach the tree underneath which the two rough-looking men were seated.