“Shut down.  I’ve got him!” he yelled.  Billy obeyed, and the half-breed was hauled into the launch, kicking and struggling furiously.

“Get a rope,” commanded George.  “There’s a coil of it in the bow of the launch.”

Five minutes later the Indian was lying in the bottom of the boat tied beyond all possibility of escape, and the boys were triumphantly heading for camp.

“We’ve got the Indian!” yelled Larry to the little group on shore as the launch neared the landing in front of the Tramp Club’s camp.

“We’ve been watching for you,” called Harriet.  “We saw you when you were away up the lake.  Have you really got him?”

“Indeed we have, and tied so that he’d have hard work getting away,” laughed Gordon.

“What shall we do with him?” asked Larry as they bore the Indian ashore in triumph.

“Stand him up against that tree for the present,” ordered George, then grimly wound coil after coil of rope around the half-breed, securing him with many a hard knot.  At last George stood back to survey his work with admiration.

“I’d like to see even an Indian get out of that harness,” Baker remarked complacently.

Harriet and Jane walked over to the tree and looked searchingly at the captive.  Both recognized him as the man they had seen while the “Red Rover” lay hidden in the creek.

“Larry and I are going up to the village at once to notify the authorities,” announced George.  “We want to get rid of this fellow as soon as possible.”

“And I am going with you,” announced Miss Elting firmly, “to hunt up Mr. Dee Dickinson.  He knows all about this man and the time has arrived for him to tell me the truth.”

* * * * *

Dickinson at first refused flatly to give Miss Elting any satisfaction concerning the Indian.

“Then I shall have you arrested as a suspicious character, also,” declared Miss Elting sternly.  “Unless you give me a full explanation of this whole affair I shall have you taken in custody by the authorities.  Understand you are to tell me everything.”

Dickinson, however, seeing that Miss Elting would admit of no trifling, decided that it would be better to make a clean breast of the matter.

“The Indian’s name is Charlie Lavaille,” he began sullenly, “though he’s commonly called French Charlie.  He makes a sort of living at fishing, and he hired the houseboat from me.”

“Then you rented the boat to some one else, and afterwards turned it over to us without letting us know?” asked Miss Elting.

“He rented the houseboat after a fashion,” Dickinson explained lamely, “though he didn’t pay any rent down, and hasn’t paid a penny since.  He was going to pay me, he said, at the end of the season.  Now, of course, when you came up here with a message from your brother, and claimed the boat, I had to let you have it.  If Charlie had paid any money, I would have refunded it to him; but as he hadn’t paid a cent there was nothing to do but to turn the boat over to you.”