brook flowed into Bass Lake, and here they came to anchor and began to fish, while Powell took several photographs.
"I have always found it good fishing near a brook like that," said Tom. "The fish come around looking for food from the brook."
Tom's remark was evidently true, for in less than an hour each of the boys had a good sized string of fish to his credit.
In the excitement of the sport the cadets forgot all about the adventure with the snakes, nor did they pay much attention to the flight of time until Fred Garrison glanced at his watch.
"Gee Christopher!" he ejaculated.
"What time is it?" asked Powell.
"Half-past four."
"And we promised to be back at five-thirty!" put in Sam. "We'll have to hustle, fellows."
"Oh, we can get back in an hour easily enough," put in Tom.
"But we've got to clean out the boat and clean up ourselves," came from Fred. "Come, fellows, wind up and put away your hooks and poles."
He started and the others followed. Then Fred and Powell took the oars, and the return to camp was begun. Not caring to go back the same way they had come, they sped along the
