"What is it, uncle Phaeton? Something of interest, or your
looks--"

Professor Featherwit gave a start, then lowered the glasses and
reached them towards his nephew, speaking hurriedly:

"You try them, Bruno; your eyes are younger, and ought to be
keener than mine. Yonder; towards the lower end of the--the
lake, please."

Nothing loath, Gillespie complied, quickly finding the correct
point upon which the professor's interest had centred, holding
the glasses motionless for a brief space, then giving vent to an
eager ejaculation.

"What is it all about, bless you, boy?" demanded Waldo, unable
longer to curb his hot impatience. "Another drifting tree, eh?"

"No, but,--did you see it, uncle?"

"I saw something which--what do YOU see, first?"

"A great big suck,--a monster whirlpool which is hollowed like--"

"I knew it! I felt that must be the true solution of it all!"
cried uncle Phaeton, squirming about pretty much as one might
into whose veins had been injected quicksilver in place of
ordinary blood. "The outlet! Where the surplus waters drain off
to the Pacific Ocean!"