Up came the oarsmen, a solid-looking, brown-eyed lad in the lead. “What’s all this about, anyway?” he sharply asked, addressing Rolf. “Who are these chaps, and what are they doing?” An idea came to Harlow; he grasped at it. “They are spies—enemies!” he quickly declared. “They were watching here in the bushes. They must be connected with the Alexandria fellows.” Then the rowers, sunburned and brawny appearing, gathered about Frank and Jack, regarding them with anything but pleasant looks. “Give it to ’em!” shouted Harlow, hoping to set the boys on Frank and Jack before any explanation could be made. “See here—don’t you see one of them threatening me with a revolver? They are desperadoes!” “In that case, gentlemen, perhaps it would be well enough not to push us too hard,” coolly observed Frank, as he moved the muzzle of the revolver about in a careless manner. “Just give us time to say something for ourselves.” “Don’t listen!” cried Rolf, wildly. “They will try to lie out of it, but I saw them spying!” “Who was the chap that ran away?” asked the leader of the oarsmen, the stroke, whose name was Kent Spencer. “He was one of them,” asserted Harlow. “In that case, it is odd we didn’t run away with him,” smiled Frank. “We might have done so, you know.” “Well, why didn’t you?” asked Spencer. “Because there was no reason why we should run, and several reasons why we should stay. We can tell you a few things that may surprise you.” “Don’t listen to their lies!” shouted Harlow. “Pitch them into the river! It’s what they deserve!” For a moment it seemed that the young oarsmen would obey him. They seemed about to precipitate themselves on the strangers. Again Frank’s coolness caused a delay. “If you want to souse us in the river after we have made our explanation, you can do so,” he smiled; “but isn’t it well enough to hear what we have to say first?” “I don’t see that it can do any harm,” admitted Spencer. “Give the fellows a show, boys, but don’t let ’em get away.” This did not suit Rolf Harlow at all, but he saw it was useless to try to urge the oarsmen on. They were inclined to obey Spencer. “All right!” he grated; “listen to their lies, if you like. You’ll be disgusted when you hear what they have to say.” Spencer eyed Harlow closely, wondering why he should be so eager to keep the strangers from speaking. He seemed to fear something that he knew would be said. “As for lies,” said Frank, “if I am not mistaken, I fancy you will hear a few from this fine gentleman who has been coaching you, but who is a traitor to you at the same time.” “A traitor!” cried Spencer. “Be careful! Mr. Harlow is a gentleman and a student of Yale College.” “A what?” shouted Diamond.