Resentful of the term ‘youngster,’ Pud was taking his own time about replying when he discovered two things almost simultaneously, to wit; that the round-faced man wore the uniform of the police, and that, as the speaker leaned forward, a nickel badge, pinned close to the arm-hole of his vest, was exposed to view. Pud decided to forgive the term. ‘Anson Pringle,’ he replied respectfully. ‘What!’ The man leaned back and cast a glance toward the bow of Pud’s launch. ‘What are you doing in this boat, then? Where’s the one you started out in? And what have you done with the other boys?’ ‘I changed the name,’ explained Pud. ‘They――they’re up there a ways.’ ‘No wonder we couldn’t get trace of the _Kismet_,’ chuckled the policeman. ‘Say, kid, why didn’t you write to your folks like they told you to? Didn’t you know they’d be anxious?’ ‘I did write once,’ answered Pud. ‘Tuesday.’ ‘Well, they never got it,’ said the first man, who it later appeared, was a sheriff. ‘They’re pretty worried about you, Anson. So are the other boys’ folks. Your father telephoned to me last night about ten o’clock and we started out early this morning to look for you. No one had seen a launch called _Kismet_, but we found an old chap at Corbin who remembered a boat with two white boys and a negro in it. He had the name wrong, though. What did he say it was called, Tom?’ ‘_Vengeance_, I think.’ ‘This is it,’ said Pud. ‘It’s the _Vengance_ on one side and the _Jolly Rodger_ on the other.’ ‘For the love of Mike! What’s the idea?’ ‘I couldn’t just decide which I liked best,’ said Pud. There was a chuckle from the third occupant of the police launch. He was looking to where the skull-and-cross-bones flag, dropped by Cocker, lay outspread near the stern. ‘Playing pirate, I guess, eh?’ he inquired. ‘Sort of,’ muttered Pud. ‘Playing the dickens, you mean,’ observed the policeman severely. ‘Worrying your folks ’most to death!’ ‘But I did write, I tell you! I wrote twice, only the last letter didn’t get posted because we lost our way and got up into Cypress Lake――’ ‘You did! Well, I’ll be switched!’ The sheriff shook his head amazedly. ‘And found your way out again, eh?’ ‘Well, two men came along and showed us the way, and then they stole the launch and I went and got it back and I was trying to find Tim and Harmon, but I got so sleepy I couldn’t go on, and so I stayed here, and――’ ‘Stole your launch, did they? Who were they? How’d you get it back?’ ‘Hold on,’ said the policeman. ‘We’d better take him in with us and go fetch those other kids. He can tell us about that on the way. Where’d you say you left them?’ ‘About a couple of miles this side of the lake; where you turn off the Run to go into Swamp Hole. You see, Lank and Cocker live along that stream a ways, and――’ ‘Those the men who stole your boat?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ The policeman eyed the sheriff. ‘Who might they be, Henry?’ ‘Don’t know. Sure the name wasn’t Hank? There’s three-four Hanks up there.’