help. My call is V A X."

"Cracky!" exclaimed Bud excitedly. "Isn't that a thriller! He's an
amateur and in trouble. We're in honor bound to help him."

"How?" demanded Cub derisively. "What can we do here nearly two hundred
miles away from him?"

"We might get word to some police or lake patrol that'll go and take him
off," Hal suggested.

"He's a Canadian," objected Cub. "Didn't you get his Canadian call? We'd
have the time of our life getting a Government station to pay any
attention to us hams. But listen, somebody's calling him."

All three listened-in eagerly, expectantly, wonderingly. Apparently
this fellow also was a Canadian amateur, although he failed to
identify himself.

"Oh, come off, you can't get by with that Robinson Crusoe stuff in this
twentieth century," he "jeered" with all the pep he could put into his
spark. "Some joke you're trying to play. What kind of publicity stunt is
this, anyway?"

"No publicity," was "Crusoe's" reply. "I'll starve if I don't get
help. You're doing your best to kill me. Keep out, I won't talk to you
any more."

"I will not keep out," declared the other. "You're an imposter. I'm
protecting the public."