For a moment none of the boys said a word. Then Chot burst into a laugh, believing the best thing to do was to “jolly” the men.

“Yes; you’ve got us all right, but I think some explanations are in order.”

“You’re right, young fellow,” said one of the men. “Explanations are in order, and you’re going to make ’em.”

“What is there to explain?”

“Lots o’ things.”

“For instance?”

“Never mind for instance. Hank, line this bunch up over yonder, then put some more trash on that fire so it won’t go out I think we’ve got the fellows we want, all right.”

Hank jammed two immense pistols into his belt and did as his companion ordered. Hank was a young man, probably twenty years old, heavy set, with the appearance of having always lived off the fat of the land. The other—Dave, he had been called by Hank—was long and lean with a scraggly mustache, a man of at least forty.

“These are not the men we saw earlier in the evening,” said Chot in a low tone to the other boys.

“No; I don’t see the slightest similarity in their appearance,” Tom replied.

“This don’t appear to be a hold up, either,” said Bert. “This man Dave talks like he thinks we’re criminals of some sort.”

“Well, we’ll find out in a minute, just what he means,” said Chot.

While Hank was heaping brush on the fire, Dave stood with his revolvers leveled at the boys, whom Hank had huddled in a little group, so that all were in easy range.

“Now, you fellers stand still,” said Dave. “We don’t want any monkey business.”

“Do we look like we’re trying to run away?” asked Tom. “Don’t worry—we’re going to stay right here and find out what all this means. We’ve nothing to run for.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, maybe I can convince you different. Here now, Hank. Get out your revolvers and watch these fellers close, while I question ’em.”

Hank did as he was bidden, seeming to take great pleasure in leveling his weapons at the boys.

“Point those things in the air, can’t you?” asked Fleet, nervously. “I know you don’t want to shoot us, but one of them might go off by accident, and I’m not ready to give up this canoe trip just yet.”

“Canoe trip?” queried Dave, suspiciously. “Where’s the canoes?”

“Right before your eyes, old man,” said Chot, pointing to where the canoes were lying beneath one of the trees.

“Don’t call me ‘old man’!” snapped Dave. “I won’t stand for nothin’ like that!”

Then he walked over and took a look at the canoes.

“Where’d you pick ’em up?” he asked.

“I don’t know that it’s any of your business,” Chot replied, “Isn’t it about time you were telling us why you’ve got us standing here at the point of your revolvers? We haven’t done anything to you.”

“Oh, you haven’t, eh? Well, maybe not, but I’ll bet you know who robbed my house last night, all right. Oh, you fellers think you can wriggle out of this business, but we’ve got you dead to rights, ain’t we, Hank?”

“Certainly have,” was Hank’s reply.

“You say your house was robbed last night?”

It was Chot who put the question.

“Yes; you know very well it was robbed.”

“I knew nothing of the kind. We were not in this neighborhood last night.”

“Then how comes it I find you trespassin’ on my property?” demanded Dave. “Tell me that.”

“We didn’t know it was your property. We came up the lake in our canoes, searching for a place to camp for the night. This seemed to be the nicest looking spot, so we came ashore.”

“That’s a pretty good tale, but it won’t work. You ain’t got no proof.”

“We have plenty of proof. You say your house was robbed last night?”

“Yes, sir; last night. The thieves got away with eighty dollars in gold that I had locked in a bureau drawer.”

“Well, last night we camped on the shores of Lake George, and at noon to-day we entered Lake Champlain and took dinner at a little village called Delano.”

“Delano? Look out—I know where that is. I may take a notion to telephone down there and look you fellers up.”

“Just what we’re trying to get you to do. Practically the whole village saw us land there, and saw us start north after we had eaten our meal. So now that we have some basis of proof on which to proceed, suppose you look us up, and let’s have done with this nonsense.”

Dave and Hank whispered together a moment, then the former said:

“Step out here, one by one, so I can get a good look at you.”

Fleet was the first to obey this command.

Dave and Hank looked him up and down, then shook their heads.

“Nope,” said Hank, “that can’t be him.”

Each of the other boys in turn underwent the close scrutiny of their captors, and when the inspection was over both Dave and Hank seemed in a quandary.

“Don’t none of ’em answer the description,” said Hank, a dismal note in his voice. “What we goin’ to do now?”

“Do I take it from your remarks that one of you saw these thieves?” asked Chot.

“Yes,” returned Dave, and there was a more civil note in his voice. “My old woman saw ’em both, and one of ’em pretty distinctly. He was a big man—bigger’n any of you fellers. I guess we owe you an apology. You’re not the thieves, but still you’re trespassing on my land. I don’t allow no campers here.”

“Now, look here, Mr.—er——” began Chot.

“Higgins, sir—Dave Higgins.”

“All right, Mr. Higgins. Now, do you realize that you’ve laid a very grave charge at our door, placing us under suspicion, as well as under the noses of your revolvers, without giving us a chance to explain who we are? Wait a minute—don’t interrupt. I’m going to give you a bit of our family history. We’re cadets from Winton Hall, a military school on the Hudson, and we’re on our way to the Thousand Islands in the St. Lawrence River. We camped peacefully on your land—at least, you say it’s yours———”

“And I can prove that easy enough, too,” said Dave.

“Well, we camped peacefully, here, not knowing that we were trespassing. We intend only to stay till sunrise before proceeding on up the lake. So now, after knowing this, with a full opportunity to investigate our record as we came up the river and through Lake George, you must either exonerate us from all blame, either as thieves or trespassers, or we’ll stay here till you prove that we’re guilty. And if you don’t prove it, someone will go to jail—and it won’t be us.”

“Oh, say, now, boys, we didn’t mean no harm,” said Dave. “We didn’t know who you was, and we thought sure we’d got track of the fellers that stole the money. But we’re willin’ to admit our mistake, and just to make things square, you stay here just as long as you please, and before you leave to-morrow come over to my house, which is right across on Chimney Point, and set down to the finest breakfast you’ve had in many a day. Is that fair?”

“Entirely satisfactory to us, Mr. Higgins, and now, just to show you that our hearts are in the right place, let me say that we saw two suspicious looking characters on the shore here about dusk to-night.”

“You did? Where are they now?”

“That I am unable to say. We were just lighting our fire when they came up, and when they discovered that there were others about, they lit out up the shore as hard as they could go.”

“What did they look like—do you remember?”

“We couldn’t see their features plainly, but one was an extremely large man, wearing a light felt hat. The other, as I remember, was somewhat smaller. Both had on dark clothes.”

“Them’s the fellers,” said Dave Higgins, decisively. “We’ve been on the wrong trail all evening, Hank. The only thing we can do now is wait till to-morrow and try and locate ’em by telephone in some of the neighborin’ towns. I’m sorry to have troubled you boys this way,” he added, turning to the young canoeists.

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Chot. “Your mistake was a perfectly natural one.”

Now that Dave Higgins seemed disposed to do the right thing, the boys felt no animosity toward him for the summary fashion in which he and his friend, Hank, had held them up.

“Well, Hank and I’ll leave you now,” said Higgins, “and mind you, we’ll look for you over to the house for breakfast. Will you come?”

Chot looked inquiringly at the other boys.

“Any wheat cakes and maple syrup?” asked Fleet, his mouth watering.

“Bushels of ’em,” was Dave Higgins’ reply.

“Then count me in.”

“I think you may look for all of us, Mr. Higgins,” said Chot, “and thank you.”

“Oh, that’s all right, boys. Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Higgins.”

“Good night,” said Hank.

“Good night,” responded the boys.

They heard Dave and Hank discussing the robbery as they entered the skiff and pushed off into the lake. The sound of oars grew softer and softer, and finally died away altogether.

Without further discussion of the events of the night, the boys sought their blankets, and nothing more occurred to disturb their slumbers.

They were up with the sun for a bath in the lake, and when they finally embarked and paddled across in the direction of the big white house they could see shining through the trees on Chimney Point, they were hungry enough to have eaten plain corn meal and water.

But no such repast as this was set before them; on the contrary, they sat down to a table fairly loaded with good things. Dave Higgins and his wife seemed anxious to correct the mistake the former had made of taking the boys for thieves, and the result was wheat cakes, maple syrup, coffee, hot muffins, and fried potatoes, with eggs cooked in any style for those who desired them.

New milk was also provided in abundant quantities, and when the boys had finished and were telling the Higgins family good-bye at the edge of the lake, and wishing them every success in apprehending the robbers, they felt as if they would not care to eat again for a week.

They soon left Crown and Chimney Points behind, as they paddled rapidly up the lake, which broadened out now into a fine body of water, dotted here and there with small craft, both of the sailing and motor variety.

The boys were about to settle down into their slow, even strokes, for the sun was getting high in the heavens and the heat becoming intense, when an incident occurred which served to relieve the monotony of the day.