"Oh! then he must surely be drowned," Davy went on to add, in a voice
that seemed to be choking with emotion--of some sort.

"I thought I saw the lake rising, and that accounts for it," ventured
Step Hen. "When a fellow as big as our poor chum goes down, he
displaces just an equal part of water. However will we tell his folks
the sad news?"

"Ain't you nearly done all that stuff?" demanded an impatient voice, and
there was a rocking motion to the boat; after which a very red face
surmounted by a shock of fiery hair, now well plastered down, hove in
sight. "Hey! somebody get a move on, and give me a hand. I'm soaked
through and through, and I tell you my clothes weigh nigh on three
tons."

The five boys pretended to be hardly able to believe their eyes. They
threw up their hands, and stared hard at the apparition.

"Why, sure, I believe it's our long lost chum, Bumpus!" gasped Giraffe.

"Mebbe it's his ghost come back to haunt us the rest o' out lives.
Mebbe we better knock him on the head; they say that's the only sure way
to settle spooks," and as Step Hen said this terrible thing, he started
to pick up the long-handled boat book.

"No, you don't, Step Hen!" shrilled Bumpus, who was really frightened as
long as he remained in the water, for he believed it must be a mile deep
so far out from land. "You just put that pole down, and get hold of my
arm here. I tell you I'm tired of being in soak so long, and I want to
come aboard so's to get some dry duds on. Make 'em behave, Thad, can't