"Water," said Tom; "swim--_swim_ across" (he pointed southward and made the motions of swimming). The old man nodded as if he understood. "Ach--vauder, yach,--Nonnenmattweiher." "What?" said Tom. "_What_?" said Archer. "Nonnenmattweiher," said the old man. "Yah." "He wants to know what's the matter with you," said Archer. "Water," Tom repeated, almost in desperation. "Swim (he went through the motions): Swim across water to south--start south, go north." He made no attempt to convey the incident of the vanishing coats. "Water--yah,--Nonnenmattweiher," the man repeated. At last, by dint of repeating words and swinging their arms and going through a variety of extraordinary motions, the boys succeeded in conveying to the little man that something was wrong in the neighborhood of the lake, and he appeared willing enough to go back with them, trotting along beside Tom in his funny belted blouse, for all the world like a mechanical toy. Tom had his misgivings as to whether they would really reach the lake no matter which way they went, but they did reach it, and standing under the tree where they had recovered their vanished coats they tried to explain to the old man what had happened--that they had crossed from the north to the south bank and continued southward, only to find that they were going north! Suddenly a new light illumined the little man's countenance and he chuckled audibly. Then he pointed across the lake, chattering and chuckling the while, and went through a series of strange motions, spreading his legs farther and farther apart, pointing to the ground between them, and concluded this exhibition with a sweeping motion of his hands as if bidding some invisible presence of that enchanted place God-speed across the water. "Och--goo," he said, and shook his head and laughed. "I know what he means," said Tom at last, with undisguised chagrin, "and I'm a punk scout. I didn't notice anything at all. Come on. We've got to swim across again--that's south, all right." "What is it?" asked Archer. "I'll show you when we get there--come on." The little Swiss toymaker stood watching them and laughing with a spasmodic laugh which he might have caught from his own wooden cuckoo. When they reached the other shore Tom fell at once to examining a very perceptible rift in the earth a few feet from the shore. "Do you see?" he said, "we floated over on this piece of land. The tree where we hung our coats was on the _real_ shore, and----" "Go-od night, and it missed the boat," concluded Archer. "This tree here is something like it," said Tom, "and that's where I made my mistake. I ought to have noticed the trees and I ought to have noticed the crack. Gee, if my scout patrol ever heard of that! 'Specially Roy Blakeley," he added, shaking his head dubiously.