The Zephyrs looked at each other with astonishment, and most of them, probably, connected him with the disappearance of the boats.  His intimacy with Tim Bunker created a great many painful misgivings, especially when Mr. Hardy told them that his son had played truant on Saturday; and one of the boys had heard of his being seen with Tim on that day.  Various other facts were elicited, which threw additional light upon the loss of the boats.  Mr. Hardy was in great distress.  It was clear that his son had wandered farther from the path of truth than he had ever suspected.

Frank had gone up to the house to inform his father of the loss of the boats, and Captain Sedley soon joined the party.  He sympathized deeply with Mr. Hardy, and was satisfied that his son could not be far off.  It was impossible to search the lake, as there were no boats for the purpose.

As nothing could be done at present on the lake, Captain Sedley ordered his horse, with the intention of driving round it in search of the fugitive and of the boats.  Mr. Hardy was invited to go with him.

On their arrival at Rippleton they found that Tim Bunker was missing, as well as a great many other boys.  They continued to examine the shores of the lake till they reached Joe Braman’s house, on the north side.

Captain Sedley inquired for his boat; and Joe, after trying to evade the truth, confessed that he had let it to Tim for a week, but did not know where he had gone with it.  They were sure then that the boys were engaged in some mad enterprise:  and at about eleven o’clock the two gentlemen reached home, without having obtained any intelligence of Charles.

“Have you discovered anything, Ben?” asked Captain Sedley.

“Yes, sir; I heard voices in the direction of Center Island.”

“They are there, then,” replied Captain Sedley, as he repaired to the boat-house.

About one o’clock the fog lifted, and revealed to the astonished party the camp of the Rovers.  A large fire burned near the two tents, around which the boys were gathered, for the weather was so inclement as to render Tim’s enterprise anything but romantic.

The Sylph, the two club boats, and Joe Braman’s “gondola” lay near the shore, apparently uninjured.

“This is a mad frolic,” said Captain Sedley; “but we may be thankful it is no worse.”

“My boy in company with such young scoundrels!” added Mr. Hardy, bitterly.

“He is sick of them and the adventure I will warrant.”

“I hope so.”

“Charles never did like Tim Bunker,” suggested Frank.

“What is to be done?” asked Mr. Hardy.

“We can do nothing; they have all the boats.  They have managed well, and we are helpless.”

“Can’t we build a raft, father?” added Frank.

“If we did, they would take to the boats and keep out of our way.  Go to the house, Frank, and bring me the spy-glass.  We will examine them a little more closely.”