“You are sure?” demanded Jerry and Harry, in a breath.

“Yes. The boat had the name Redeye painted on the stern. If I remember rightly, she belongs to a tough crowd of fishermen from Long Lake.”

“Where is she now?” demanded Harry.

“Back there, somewhere.”

“We must follow that boat; eh, Jerry?”

“I am willing,” replied the young oarsman.

“You may have lively times with that crowd,” put in Jack Broxton with a grave shake of his head.

“We’ll risk it,” answered Harry. He was thinking of his missing gold watch.

The course of the Whistler was changed, and soon they rounded the shore of the island Jack Broxton had pointed out.

Sure enough, there was the Redeye, with all sails set, making up the lake.

Near the stern stood Si Peters, Wash Crosby and several rascally looking men.

“They have discovered that we are after them,” cried Jerry, a few minutes later. “See, they are crowding on all sail!”

The young oarsman was right. Leaving the vicinity of the islands, the other craft stood out boldly into the lake, and cut the water like a knife.

“She’s a good one,” observed Jack Broxton.

The Whistler already had all sails out; and thus the craft went on, neither gaining nor losing for half an hour.

Then darkness settled over the lake, and the wind fell flat.

“We’ve lost them now,” said Harry, dismally.

“It’s a good thing the wind has fallen,” replied Jerry.

“How so?”

“As soon as it is dark enough we can take the row-boat and follow in that.”

“That’s an idea.”

Soon night had settled over Lake Otasco. Then our hero and Harry lost no time in entering the tender of the Whistler.

“Make as little noise as possible,” cautioned Jerry.

He was in the bow peering ahead, while Harry was at the oars.

So they went on a distance of a quarter of a mile.

“See anything?” whispered Harry.

“Not yet. Pull in a little closer to shore. I have an idea Peters and Crosby may land somewhere around here.”

“Like as not that is their game.”

On they went, the darkness growing more intense as they proceeded. There was no moon, and the stars shone but faintly in the blue vault overhead.

Suddenly Jerry held up his hand as a sign to Harry to stop rowing. Instantly his chum raised the oars.

“What do you see?” he whispered.

“Something ahead—I can’t make out just what yet.”

Several minutes of breathless silence followed. Then Jerry bent back.

“The Redeye is just ahead, but I believe Si Peters and Wash Crosby have already left her.”

A second later a low but clear cry rang out: “You left that bundle behind, Crosby!”

“Never mind, I don’t want the old suit,” was the reply, coming from some distance in toward shore.

“That settles it,” whispered Jerry. “Crosby and Peters are in a row-boat pulling for shore, beyond a doubt.”

“That’s all right,” replied Harry. “I would rather tackle them than all those on the Redeye.”

“So would I.”

The row-boat was headed for the west.

How far off the shore was they did not know. They had located the voice of Crosby and now steered in the direction.

Jerry at the bow continued to keep his ears on the alert.

“A little to the right, now,” he said. “That’s it. If you don’t make too much noise we’ll surprise them completely.”

“I think the best thing we can do is to follow them after they land, until they reach some place where we can have them locked up, Jerry.”

“That is certainly a good plan. It will save us the trouble of dragging them off to jail, if we are fortunate enough to capture them.”

Harry’s plan was accepted, and on they went.

“Look!” cried Jerry, presently, and pointed down the shore.

“I don’t see anything, Jerry.”

“Don’t you see the lights coming toward us?”

Harry strained his eyes.

“I see them now.”

“It’s a steamer coming this way.”

“My gracious, we’ll have to get out of the way or we’ll be run down!”

“She is close in shore,” went on Jerry. “I believe she’ll pass between the other row-boat and ours.”

“Let us hold up a minute and see what she intends to do,” said Harry.

He rested on his oars. Soon the craft came closer. It was the excursion boat on her return.

“She is not coming near us,” said Jerry. “Pull on.”

Harry had just taken to the oars again, when a wild cry rang out. It came from the row-boat which held Peters and Crosby.

“Stop! Don’t run us down!”

“The steamboat is onto them!” ejaculated Jerry.

Scarcely had he spoken when there came another cry, followed by a crash.

“They’ve been struck!” yelled Harry.

“Pull ahead!” cried Jerry. “Like as not they have either been killed or are drowning!”

He sprang to Harry’s side, and with an oar each they sped on to the assistance of the unfortunate ones.

In the meanwhile the steamboat stopped.

“What’s the trouble?” called a voice.

No answer was vouchsafed, and a moment later the steamboat went on.

“Like as not, Si Peters and Wash Crosby are dead,” observed Harry, as he bent to his oar.

“We’ll soon know the truth,” replied the young oarsman.

Both boys pulled a swift stroke, and were soon on the spot where the catastrophe had occurred.

In the meanwhile the steamboat was fast disappearing in the distance. Soon the last light faded from sight.

In the darkness of the night Jerry and Harry could see but little.

“There is an oar,” cried Harry, pointing it out.

“And there is part of the row-boat’s bottom,” said Jerry. “It looks as if the row-boat was actually ground to pieces.”

“Then it isn’t likely that Si Peters and Wash Crosby escaped.”

“Well, we’ll take a good look around.”

The two continued to row about, but for a long while saw nothing but bits of wreckage.

Then our hero beheld a form floating just to their right.

“Take both oars, Harry,” he said, “and be careful, for that is Wash Crosby’s body.”

Harry took the oars and began to row slowly.

As he moved on, Jerry stood in the bow.

At that instant a strange thing happened. Si Peters came up under the boat, giving it such a shove that Jerry was hurled overboard.

Then, with a swiftness that was really surprising, Si Peters clambered into the row-boat.

In his hand he held part of a broken oar.

“Jump out after Jerry Upton!” he growled as he advanced upon Harry.

Without replying, Harry leaped up to defend himself. As he did this he saw that Jerry and Wash Crosby were fighting in the water.

Neither Crosby nor Peters had been hurt by the collision, both having left their craft before the steamboat struck it.

Their one thought now was to get the good row-boat away from our two heroes.

Jerry, thinking Wash Crosby seriously hurt, was taken completely by surprise.

Crosby caught him by the shoulder and forced him far under the water, and then did his best to hold him there.

Crosby was a powerful fellow, and he well understood what defeat and capture meant—a term in prison.

But, as we know, Jerry’s muscles were like iron, and his first surprise over, he went for Crosby tooth and nail.

With a powerful twist he freed himself from the rascal’s grasp and swam some distance away.

Then coming up behind Crosby, the young oarsman let out with his right fist.

The blow took the Rockpoint bully behind the ear, and Crosby let out a wild yell of pain, broken by a gasp for air, as he went under the bosom of the ocean.

As he went down, our hero gave him an extra shove and then swam with all speed for the row-boat, which had drifted several yards away.

He saw Harry and Si Peters standing up in the boat. Peters had just struck at his chum, and Harry had partly dodged the vicious blow.

But the broken oar landed on Harry’s arm, causing him to cry out from pain.

“Drop that, Si Peters.”

The command, coming so unexpectedly, startled Peters. He turned, to find Jerry at the gunwale directly behind him.

“Oh, Jerry, help!” cried Harry.

Si Peters gave a low yell of rage.

Again Harry sprang away, and now armed himself with an oar.

“You can’t frighten me, you fool!” shouted Peters. “Don’t you dare to put your hand on the boat!”

And as Jerry grasped the gunwale, Peters raised his heavy foot as if to crush our hero’s fingers.

But Jerry was too quick for him.

He dropped off. Then whizz! something dark flew through the air.

It was part of the broken oar, thrown by Jerry, and it took Si Peters in the neck.

“Whack him one, Harry, while you have the chance!”

Harry needed no advice on the subject. He sprang in, and a second later a resounding crack laid Si Peters flat on his back.

“That was a good one,” cried Jerry, as he clambered over the side. “Now bind him before he comes to.”

“Haven’t a blessed thing,” replied Harry.

“Here is some cord. Tie his hands together.”

While Harry was doing this, Jerry began to look around for Wash Crosby.

“This way! We are in trouble!” yelled Crosby.

“Pshaw!” exclaimed Jerry. “He’ll have that yacht down on us in another minute.”

But for once the young oarsman was mistaken. The men on the Redeye had no desire, after befriending Si Peters and Wash Crosby, to fall into the hands of the law, and instead of coming up they allowed their craft to float off in an opposite direction.

“There is Crosby!” shouted Jerry, a moment later, as he beheld the youth floundering around in the water. “And look, here comes the Whistler.”

He was right. A slight breeze had sprung up and Jack Broxton had nursed the yacht along with all of the skill at his command.

The coming of the old sailor ended the battle, so far as the bad boys from Rockpoint were concerned. Both Si Peters and Wash Crosby were hauled on board, and here they were tightly bound, to prevent their making further trouble.

It was after midnight when Lakeview was reached and the prisoners were handed over to the local police. Then Harry and Jerry separated, to go home and tell of their fresh adventures.

The following morning Si Peters and Wash Crosby were taken to Rockpoint and an examination was held. The bad boys confessed robbing the hotel and the larger part of the money taken was recovered, as was also Harry’s gold watch, which Si Peters had been bold enough to wear. Some time later the evil-doers were tried and sent to jail, and that was the last our heroes heard of them.