Suddenly the silence of the woods was broken by some one advancing through the underbrush.
"Bless my gaiters, some one is coming!" exclaimed Mr. Damon in a hoarse whisper, "Can that be Munson or Dwight coming back?" He referred to his two friends who had gone to the lake.
"Or perhaps the fellows are escaping," suggested Mr. Benson. "Suppose we take a look."
At that moment the person approaching, whoever he was, began to sing. Tom started.
"I'll wager that's Happy Harry, the tramp!" he exclaimed. "I know his voice."
Cautiously Tom peered over the screen of bushes.
"Who is it?" asked Mr. Damon.
"It's Happy Harry!" said Tom. "We'll get them all, now. He's going up to the house."
They watched the tramp. All unconscious of the eyes of the men and boy in the bushes, he kept on. Presently the door of the house opened, and a man came out. Tom recognized him as Anson Morse—the person who had dropped the telegram.
"Say, Burke," called the man at the door, "have you taken the motor-boat?"
"Motor-boat? No," answered the tramp. "I just came here. I've had a hard time—nearly got
