In about three quarters of an hour the canoe entered the lake and drew up to the bank in front of Godfrey’s cabin.  David sprang out, and after placing his gun upon the bench in front of the door, went behind the building to unchain the pointer.  He was gone a long time—­so long that Don and Bert, who were sitting in the canoe waiting for him, began to grow impatient—­and when he came back he did not bring the pointer with him.  He brought instead a chain and a collar.  His face told the brothers that he had made a most unwelcome discovery.

“Where’s the dog?” asked Bert.

“I don’t know,” answered David, looking up and down the road.  “He must have slipped the collar over his head and gone off; but I never knew him to do it before.”

“Well, you needn’t look so sober about it,” said Don.  “He isn’t far away.  I’ll warrant I can bring him back.”

Don set up a whistle that could have been heard for half a mile.  Indeed it was heard and recognised at a greater distance than that.  An answering yelp came from the direction of his father’s house, but it was not given by the dog Don wanted to see just then.  It was uttered by one of the hounds which had been shut up in the barn when Don went away that morning, and afterward released by the hostler.  The others answered in chorus, and half a dozen fleet animals were seen coming down the road at the top of their speed.  But the pointer was not with them.

“It’s likely we shall find him at the house,” said Bert, who wanted to say something encouraging for David’s benefit.

“I don’t doubt it,” returned Don.  “If he’s there, Dave, we’ll take a short hunt with him and bring him down in the morning.”

“If you don’t care I’ll go up with you,” said David, “It would be a great relief to me to know that he is safe.”

“All right.  Jump aboard.”

David got into the canoe again and Don pulled up the lake toward the wharf.  When they reached it the boat was made fast to the tree again, and the three boys started for the house.  Don at once began making inquiries concerning his pointer, but no one had seen him, and his loud and continued whistling brought only the hounds, which snuffed at the guns and yelped and jumped about as if trying to make their master understand that they were there, and ready for anything he might want them to do.

“Never mind,” said Don, who did not seem to feel half as bad as David did; “dogs of his breed never stray far away, and he’ll be at your house or ours before morning, you may depend upon it.  Good-by now, and don’t forget to be on hand at an early hour.  We must set to work upon those traps without any more delay.”

David reluctantly turned his face toward home, and Don and Bert went into the house.  “I didn’t tell him just what I think about the matter, for he feels badly enough already,” said Don, when he and his brother were in their room, dressing for supper.  “There’s an awful thief about here, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all to know that the pointer has gone where our canoe went.”