"Now, what do you think of that?" asked Reade in perplexity. "These are freshly cut bushes, that have been fastened to this frame to-day. The frame will float wherever wind or current may take it. I thought this was shallow water. I'll soon know." Tom had, among his tackle, a line with a sinker attached. He tossed the sinker over the side of the canoe, paying out the line until the sinker touched bottom. Then he pulled the line in again, carefully measuring by his arm as much of the line as was wet. "Danny," he announced solemnly, "at this point the water is from twenty-seven to thirty feet deep." "Then that man did drown!" breathed Dalzell, his face as white as chalk. "Of course he did," Tom agreed, "provided he was alive when we saw him." "But he had to be alive," protested Dan, "or else he couldn't have nailed the framework together and decorated it with branches from bushes." "That is, if the man we saw made the frame," propounded Reade in a very solemn voice. It was a shock to both of them. The whole incident had been uncanny and unreal, but the horror of that haggard, haunting face was still strong upon both of the beholders. "Tom, we simply must get off our clothes and dive to see what we can do to find that poor fellow," urged Dalzell. "All right," assented Reade. "I'll do all the diving myself, Danny, if you'll take command and give your orders. Where shall I dive? The bushes have already shifted position. We're floating away from the spot, too. Just where do you want me to make the first dive?" "I don't know," Dan Dalzell confessed. "The whole affair has given me the creeps, I think." "I know it has done that to me," smiled Tom unsteadily. "Whew! I'll dream of that face to-night---all night long! Dan, there seems to be just about one chance in a thousand that that man will reach shore. Let's keep the craft headed to the shore, and watch for some minutes to come. At the same time, if we see a sign of the poor fellow, we'll swim to him, or paddle to him as fast as we know how." Both boys knew, inwardly, that they would be heartily glad to get away from what seemed plainly to them to be a haunted spot. Yet neither cared to admit his dread to the other. So, talking rather busily, they remained on the spot for fully another ten minutes. "We won't see anything come out of the water now," Tom asserted at last. "Even if we do, it will be a drowned man." "I guess we may as well get back to camp," Danny agreed. "Yet it is going to be an awfully creepy night for all of us, with this weird mystery of the lake on our minds." "Don't paddle yet," begged Tom. "I'll give a hail, and see if that brings any answer." Raising his voice, Reade shouted lustily: "Hello, there, friend? Are you safe? Want any help?" "Anything we can do for you, friend?" bawled Dan Dalzell, in his most resonant tone. Only the mocking echoes of their own questions came back to them.