Crash!  She landed on a bunch of small limbs and branches.  She went right on through them, tearing off leaves with frantic hands in her efforts to get hold of something that would stop her progress.  The foliage checked her fall a little, but not sufficiently to prevent her falling the rest of the way.

A yell from Larry Goheen, an answering shout from George, and another from Sam, told that the boys had heard the fall.  They began running toward the tree, with shouts of triumph.

“We’ve got somebody,” yelled George.  “Look sharp, fellows.”

“I’m on the job,” howled Sam.

“Get clubs.  It may be a spook,” howled Larry.

The Tramp Club surrounded the tree, keeping their formation as well as possible, not forgetting that their prey might slip away from them did they not guard all sides.  As yet they did not now who or what that prey was.  A moment later they halted with exclamations of surprise.

Directly beneath the tree in which Jane McCarthy had been hiding stood a man.  He was dark and swarthy, with high cheek bones and jet black hair.  He was an Indian half-breed.  The fellow stood scowling, regarding the boys with angry eyes.  Broken limbs and scattered leaves showed where Jane McCarthy had fallen from the tree, and broken bushes also showed where she had floundered after reaching the ground.

The Tramp Club gazed at the scowling face of the half-breed in speechless amazement.

CHAPTER XXI

A DOUBLE SURPRISE

“Who you?” growled the strange man.

“We—­we—­” began Larry.

“I beg your pardon, sir.  You aren’t the person we were seeking,” apologized George Baker.

“Who you look for?”

“Oh, a friend of ours.  I am sorry if I disturbed you.  Were you up in that tree?” demanded George, a sudden thought occurring to him.  He wondered if this questionable-looking half-breed had been up there while they were holding their conference a short time before that.

The fellow made no reply.  He stood regarding them with inquiring, suspicious eyes until the boys grew restless under his scrutiny.

“Well, you needn’t look at us that way,” declared George, flushing under the steady, disconcerting gaze of the stranger.  “We don’t know you and you don’t know us, and I guess you don’t own the island.  Come on, fellows.”

The boys started away, trudging thoughtfully towards home.  As for Jane McCarthy, the instant she reached the ground, she had scrambled to her feet and darted into the bushes, where she threw herself on the ground, breathing heavily, waiting for what might come.  What did come amazed her.  She saw the man dash up and glance hurriedly about him.  It was evident that her fall had attracted his attention, and that he had run to the tree, hoping to catch some one.  Gazing at him through the bushes, the girl decided that he must be an Indian.  She gazed at him long and earnestly, forgetting for the moment her own precarious position.