This company of “rescue tourists” had motored through the Lake of the Thousand Islands before, and hence were not at a loss at any time how to find their way.  The spectacle, therefore, of a hit-and-miss, crazy-quilt arrangement of long, round, high, low, green, bare islands, many of them decked with a wealth of firs, pines, tamaracks, oaks, maples, bushes and flowers, was not new to them.  However, it was not long after their decision to look for a mooring place when they found an ideal cove and tied the Catwhisker to an overhanging bent, gnarled, contorted pine tree.

No camp was made on the shore, as they had no intention of remaining at this place longer than until the next break of day.  All hands were pretty tired after supper, but Hal decided he must listen-in for a while before going to bed.  So he donned a pair of phones and began to tune for an evening program, when a call, clear and distinct, addressed to him, suddenly held his attention.

It was from the now mysterious “V A X”, the “Island Crusoe”.  Hal answered it and then received the following message: 

“Thanks awfully for your good intentions, but I didn’t need any help.  Sorry to have troubled you.  I did have a wager with that other fellow, but not the kind he described.  It was the first big contest in the history of radio.  I gave odds of four to one and am the winner.  We both went to the island together and each put up an independent receiving and sending set.  My part of the contest was to induce someone to come to the rescue of me as an island prisoner; his part was to head off any such rescue.  He admitted I won after it was certain you were headed for us, and then we both lost our nerve and ducked.  Good-bye.”

Bud and Cub took the hint, from Hal’s eager and almost awed manner, that something unusual was coming in through the ether and donned phones in time to catch the latter half of the message.  This was sufficient to give them a clear understanding of the situation.  After the “good-bye” finish, Hal made a desperate effort to hold the “Island operator” for further conversation, but could get no reply.  At last he gave it up and they turned their attention to discussion of the situation.

“Well, I wonder if that’s the last well hear from him,” said Bud as he removed the phones from his ears, while the other two boys did likewise.

“More of a puzzle than ever, isn’t it?” Cub remarked.

“Why, don’t you believe the explanation he telegraphed to us?” Hal inquired.

“I do not,” the tall youth replied positively.

“Why not?” Hal persisted.  “Doesn’t it satisfy your lordship?”

“Cut it out, Tee-hee,” the alleged “lordship” ordered.  “You make me sore.”

“Then I’ll rub on some salve.”

“If you do, you’ll get your fingers burnt,” Cub retorted.

“I always thought you were a hot one.  But that doesn’t answer the question before us.”