Joe The Hotel Boy | Page 7

were in the woodshed," said Ned.
"Maybe they are out on the lake," answered the hermit's boy, and he ran
down to the water's edge, followed by his companion. But though they
looked in every direction, not a craft of any kind was to be seen.
"Joe, they didn't take to the water, consequently they must have left by
one of the mountain paths."
"That is true, and if they did they'll have no nice time in getting through.
All the bushes are sopping wet, and the mud is very slippery in places."
They walked to the rear of the lodge and soon found the footprints of
the two strangers. They led through the bushes and were lost at a small
brook that ran into the lake.
"There is no use of our trying to follow this any further," said Joe.
"You'll get your clothing covered with water and mud."
"I don't intend to follow," answered Ned. "Just the same, I should like
to know more about those fellows."
"I wish I had seen their faces."
"Yes, it's a pity we didn't get a better look at them. But I'd know their
voices."
By the time they gave up the hunt the sun was shining brightly. Both
walked to where the boat had been left, and Joe turned the craft over so
that the water might run out. Then he mopped off the seats as best he
could.
Ned wanted to go directly home, and he and Joe rowed the craft in the
direction of Riverside. As they passed along the lake shore the hermit's
boy noted that several trees had been struck by lightning.
"I'm glad the lightning didn't strike the lodge while we were there," said

he.
"It was certainly a severe storm while it lasted, Joe. By the way, shall I
say anything about those two men?"
"Perhaps it won't do any harm to tell your father, Ned."
"Very well, I'll do it."
Soon Riverside was reached, and having paid for the fish and the
outing, Ned Talmadge walked in the direction of his residence. Joe
shoved off from the tiny dock and struck out for his home. He did not
dream of the calamity that awaited him there.

CHAPTER III.
A HOME IN RUINS.
As Joe rowed toward his home on the mountain side, a good mile from
Riverside, he could not help but think of the two mysterious men and of
what they had said.
"They were certainly rascals," he mused. "And from their talk they
must have come from New York and are now going to try some game
in Philadelphia."
The hermit's boy was tired out by the day's outing, yet he pulled a fairly
quick stroke and it was not long before he reached the dock at which he
and Hiram Bodley were in the habit of leaving their boat. He cleaned
the craft out, hid the oars in the usual place, and then, with his fishing
lines in one hand and a good sized fish in the other, started up the trail
leading to the place that he called home.
"What a place to come to, alongside of the one Ned lives in," he said to
himself. "I suppose the Talmadges think this is a regular hovel. I wish
we could afford something better,--or at least live in town. It's
lonesome here with nobody but old Uncle Hiram around."

As Joe neared the cabin something seemed to come over him and, for
some reason he could not understand, he felt very much depressed in
spirits. He quickened his pace, until a turn of the trail brought the
homestead into view.
A cry of alarm broke from his lips and with good reason. The little
shelter had stood close to a large hemlock tree. The lightning had
struck the tree, causing it to topple ever. In falling, it had landed fairly
and squarely upon the cabin, smashing it completely. One corner of the
cabin was in ashes, but the heavy rain had probably extinguished the
conflagration.
"Uncle Hiram!" cried the boy, as soon as he recovered from his
amazement. "Uncle Hiram, where are you?"
There was no answer to this call and for the moment Joe's heart seemed
to stop beating. Was the old hermit under that pile of ruins? If so it was
more than likely he was dead.
Dropping his fish and his lines, the youth sprang to the front of the
cabin. The door had fallen to the ground and before him was a mass of
wreckage with a small hollow near the bottom. He dropped on his
knees and peered inside.
"Uncle Hiram!" he called again.
There was no answer, and he listened with bated breath. Then he
fancied he heard a groan, coming from the rear of what