The boys were just about to turn their attention once more to the work that had been undertaken when all of them suddenly stopped and listened.

“That was Steve yelling then, I reckon,” snapped the owner of the bowed legs, “but honest Injun, I didn’t make out what he said.  Mebbe now he struck a whopper of a trout, and was giving one of his whoops.  You all know how excited Steve does get if anything out of the way happens.”

“L-l-listen!” cried Toby Jncklin, jumping to his feet.  “D-d-didn’t it sound like he was yelpin’ help?”

“Just what it seemed like to me!” exclaimed Max.  “Something may have happened to Steve, because he’s always getting himself in trouble.  Come along, fellows, and we’ll soon find out.  There, he’s whooping it up again.”

And this time every one of the trio of running boys could plainly detect something approaching agony in the thrilling cry of “Help, oh! hurry up, fellows!  Help!”

CHAPTER II

GRIPPED BY A GIANT’S UNSEEN HANDS

That Max, Bandy-legs and Toby all kept their wits about them was manifest.  Their actions had made this clear enough, for each of the trio before starting “on the jump,” as Bandy-legs described it, had made sure to pick up something that, according to his mind, was apt to be needed.  Max, for instance, had snatched a rope that hung from a broken branch of the tree, and which one of the boys had fetched along simply because “a rope often comes in mighty handy for lots of things besides a hanging bee.”  On his part Toby had stooped down and possessed himself of the camp hatchet; if it proved that Steve was being attacked by a bobcat he fancied he could make pretty good use of such a tool in an emergency.  Bandy-legs, true to his hunter instinct, made out to secure the only gun which had been brought with them on the trip.

As they ran wildly in the direction from whence those appeals for assistance still came, louder than ever, every fellow was straining his vision to be the first to discover what it could be that was causing Steve to let out such alarming whoops.

They did not have very far to go before suddenly all of them discovered the object of their solicitude.  He seemed to be standing nearly waist-deep in the stream, and still holding on to his tough little steel rod.

“Oh! shucks!” gasped Bandy-legs, almost out of breath from his violent exertions, “he’s only struck a mud turtle, or something like that, and wants us to come and see.  It’s a burning shame to give us all such a scare over a measly turtle.”

“B-b-bet you it’s a w-w-woppin’ b-b-big fish!” ejaculated Toby.

“Keep on running!” snapped Max.  “He needs help, and in a hurry, too!”

This sort of talk amazed both the others.  So far as they could see Steve stood there quite alone.  They looked again but could see no savage animal attacking their comrade; nor was there any vast disturbance in the water, as though some marine monster might be trying to drag him down; besides, such things as alligators or sharks were utterly unknown up here in the Adirondacks.