then to Australia. What the real truth concerning him was we shall learn
later.

Joe was a boy of twelve, but constant life in the open air had made him
tall and strong and he looked to be several years older.

He had dark eyes and hair, and was much tanned by the sun. The rowboat
had been out a good distance on the lake and a minute before the shore
was gained the large drops of rain began to fall.

"We are going to get wet after all!" cried Ned, chagrined.

"Pull for all you are worth and we'll soon be under the trees," answered
Joe.

They bent to the oars, and a dozen more strokes sent the rowboat under
a clump of pines growing close to the edge of the lake. Just as the boat
struck the bank and Ned leaped out there came a great downpour which
made the surface of Lake Tandy fairly sizzle.

"Run to the lodge, Ned; I'll look after the boat!" shouted Joe.

"But you'll get wet."

"Never mind; run, I tell you!"

Thus admonished, Ned ran for the old hunting lodge, which was situated
about two hundred feet away. Joe remained behind long enough to secure
the rowboat and the oars and then he followed his friend.