The next day was one of rejoicing among the Boy Scouts of Lakefarm. If there had been any doubt concerning the popularity of Hal Kenyon, that doubt surely was gone now. The fact that his parents were poor made no difference with any of his schoolmates. Indeed, Dr. Byrd would not have permitted any feeling against Hal on this account. There would have been trouble instantly.

The news of Hal’s return spread rapidly soon after sun-up. It was communicated principally in the wash room, accompanied by a wild rumor of the manner in which he had been entrapped. Some one started a story that Hal had been a prisoner in a robbers’ cave and was rescued only with much daring and danger. Frank’s connection with the real adventure remained in darkness. Nobody, except Hal, Dr. Byrd, Mrs. Byrd, the two instructors, Pepper, and Frank himself, knew anything about it, and there had been a general agreement that it was wisest to keep the matter secret.

Hal and Frank both slept late that morning. The doctor gave orders that they should not be awakened until they had “had their sleep out.” While the others were eating breakfast, Mr. Frankland went to Frank’s room and found the latter dressing. The boy’s eyes were red and swollen from weeping. He searched the face of the instructor carefully, and then inquired, with trembling voice:

“Did you find him, Mr. Frankland?”

“Certainly,” replied the latter reassuringly.

“And did you get him out?”

“You bet we did.”

“Alive?”

“Alive.”

“And is he here—alive?”

“He surely is,” declared Mr. Frankland, the smile on his face broadening.

Frank was so overcome with relief that for several minutes he was unable to continue his dressing. A stocking that he had been in the act of putting on dropped to the floor, and it seemed that he could not reach down and pick it up again.

He had been ready for this announcement, and yet it was hard for him to believe that it was true. He could not get rid of that picture of Hal falling with the water onto the rocks at the foot of the cataract. It was so real that only the sight of his friend standing before him would convince him that his eyes had not fooled him.

“Come, Frank; hurry up and get dressed, and I’ll take you to Hal and show him to you,” urged Mr. Frankland, still with a smile of amusement.

This promise renewed Frank’s energy, and he picked up the stocking and pulled it on. Then he slipped on his shoes and announced that he was ready to call on his rescued schoolmate.

They stepped out into the hall and walked several doors toward the farther end. Hal’s door was slightly ajar, and Mr. Frankland pushed it wide open and they walked in.

Hal was still asleep. Frank stepped forward, like one in a trance, and placed one hand on the face of the sleeper. Suddenly Hal’s eyes opened wide and he sat up in bed. He recalled everything immediately, as his first words indicated:

“Hello, Bad; I’m all right. Why, what’s the matter?”

And no wonder! Frank had fallen forward on the bed and buried his face in the counterpane. The relief of the truth was too much for him.

Mr. Frankland had not realized the tenseness of the nervous strain under which the boy was laboring, or he would have proceeded more carefully.

“Frank, what is the matter?” repeated Hal, himself half alarmed.

The other boy sobbed on for a minute or two, and Hal threw off the bed clothes and sat on the edge of the bed. Then he shifted his gaze from Frank to the instructor and back to the boy again.

But finally Frank got sufficient control of himself to choke down his sobs, and he arose and wiped his eyes with his fists and said:

“I——I thought sure you was dead, Hal. How—in the world did you get out?”

“Out o’ where—the cave?” inquired the older boy.

“No, out o’ the water.”

“Out o’ the water? I wasn’t in the water.”

“You wasn’t?” Frank’s eyes opened very wide again. He had been assured of this before, but it was as incredible from Hal. Still with a wondering look in his eyes and disbelief in his voice, he continued, putting one hand on his friend’s left arm:

“Hal, I saw you fall. You went down, down. I saw you, oh, I did.”

The other laughed outright. The laugh was so merry and hearty that presently Frank wasn’t so sure of what he had seen as he thought he had been. Then Hal gave his delusion a further jar by saying:

“No you didn’t do any such thing, Frank. I didn’t fall at all. Is that what made you run away so fast? It was getting dark, you know, and maybe there was a shadow in the water that looked like me falling.”

“That must have been it,” declared Frank with a big sigh of relief. Then he laughed hysterically, for the picture in his memory had changed. Instead of a falling boy, he saw a shadow, or a dark-colored patch of water, in the tumbling flood.

That settled it. Frank recovered his nerve, but he was a much quieter boy for several days after. He was fourteen years old, his voice had already “changed,” and he was begging permission from his parents to wear long trousers on “dress” occasions; hence, it was no wonder that such an experience as he had recently gone through should convince him that it was about time for him to mend his ways.

Lakefarm was a comparatively tame place for several days following the happenings in Mummy CaÑon. After the affair had been thoroughly discussed by the boys and nothing more of interest could be found, the subject was laid aside and picked up only now and then. The bag of specimens was returned to its owner and little more was heard concerning that for some time. But the aviator, Mr. Miles, continued to be of interest, for the boys looked eagerly forward to the time when his broken bones would be sufficiently mended to enable him to be among them and tell them stories of his adventures.

The summer program in the school was more of a vacation series of doings than anything else. Some book work and shop duties were required each week, but these were really a relief from the long succession of outings and excursions that filled the greater part of the summer program.

Among the favorite sports at the school were baseball and swimming. The campus and the lake were therefore scenes of much activity in the warmer months. All things considered, it was a lively time the boys at Lakefarm school had the year round.

Because of these activities, the young Scouts looked forward with little interest toward vacation-time. Most of them spent the Christmas holidays at home, but few remained away from the school during the whole summer season. At the time of the beginning of these events, the vacation weeks were more than half gone, and the absentees were fast returning. A special program, including an excursion to the Grand CaÑon of the Colorado River, was scheduled for the latter part of August and the early part of September, and most of the Scouts were expected to be present for this.

The boys of Lakefarm were skilled in mountain climbing. It was their experience in this line that emboldened Hal and Frank to hunt along the steep bank of Flathead River for the lost bag of specimens. However, Dr. Byrd’s policy on all mountain-climbing excursions was to avoid steep and dangerous places, and he felt that he had good reason to scold them for taking such a chance.

On the day following the imprisonment of Hal in the waterfall cave, the doctor summoned all the boys into the assembly room and lectured them. He told them he had thought his instructions from time to time in mountain climbing had impressed upon them sufficiently the importance of judgment in their excursions among the hills. Finally he wound up by saying:

“It seems that some of you boys need another lesson on this subject. So our next outing will be a mountain climb. We’ll have to give you some more advice as to where to go and what places to avoid. As soon as the other boys get back we will go over and climb Porcupine Hill.”

“And see Aunt Sarah Jane,” whispered Pickles to Ferdinand loudly enough to be heard by all in the room.

Dr. Byrd smiled. He expected some such eager demonstration. Aunt Sarah Jane Turman was an aged woman who lived with her husband on the very peak of the mountain. Porcupine Hill was one of the lower mountains of the neighborhood, being just west of Flathead and affording the best view of the top of the latter. Aunt Sarah was an interesting character, a kind-hearted nurse, ever thoughtful of the welfare of her friends and acquaintances. Most of the boys had been up there several times and every one of them adopted Mrs. Turman as his aunt on beholding her pleasant face and hearing her cheery voice and eating some of her “dandy” bread covered with a liberal supply of homemade jam.

So the doctor’s lecture closed with anything but an unpleasant announcement, the fulfillment of which was to prove of considerable importance in the chain of events that made notable that summer at Lakefarm, Mummy CaÑon and Flathead Mountain.