downpours, they ran around to another portion of the old lodge. "It certainly is a little better here," observed Joe, as he dashed the water from his cap. A minute later the rumbling of the thunder ceased for the time being, and they heard a murmur of voices coming from one of the rooms of the lodge. "Why, somebody must be here!" ejaculated Ned. "Who can it be?" "Two men, by their voices," answered the hermit's boy. "Wait till I take a look at them?" "Why not go in?" questioned the rich youth, carelessly. "They may not be persons that we would care to meet, Ned. You know there are some undesirable characters about the lake." "That's true." Not far off was a narrow window, the panes of glass of which had long since been broken out. Moving toward this, Joe peered into the apartment beyond. Close to an old fireplace, in which a few sticks of half-green timber were burning, sat two men. Both were well dressed, and Joe rightfully surmised that they were from the city. Each wore a hunting outfit and had a gun, but neither had any game. "We came on a wild-goose chase," grumbled one, as he stirred the fire. "Got nothing but a soaking for our pains." "Never mind, Malone," returned the other, who was evidently the better educated of the two. "As we had to make ourselves scarce in the city this was as good a place to come to as any." "Don't you think they'll look for us here?" "Why should they? We were sharp enough not to leave any trail behind--at least, I was." "Reckon I was just as sharp, Caven." "You had to be--otherwise you would have been nabbed." Gaff Caven chuckled to himself. "We outwitted them nicely, I must say. We deserve credit." "I've spent more than half of what I got out of the deal," went on Pat Malone, for such was the full name of one of the speakers.