The others had gone up the lake shore,
leaving him to see what he could catch for supper.
He had just hooked a magnificent fish of a reddish-brown color,
when, on looking up, he espied an elderly man gazing at him
intently from a knoll of water-grass a short distance away.
"Richard Rover, is it -- ahem - possible?" came slowly from the
man's thin lips. "Surely I must be dreaming!"
"Josiah Crabtree!" ejaculated Dick, so surprised that he let the
fish fall into the water again. "How on earth did you get out
here?"
"I presume I might - er -- ask that same question," returned the
former teacher of Putnam Hall. "Did you follow me to Africa?"
"Do you imagine I would be fool enough to do that, Mr. Crabtree?
No, the Stanhopes and I were content to let you go -- so long as
you minded your own business in the future."
"Do not grow saucy, boy; I will not stand it."
"I am not saucy, as you see fit to term it, Josiah Crabtree. You
know as well as I do that you ought to be in prison this minute
for plotting the abduction of Dora."
"I know nothing of the kind, and will not waste words on you. But
if you did not follow me why are you here?"
"I am here on business, and not ashamed to own it."
"Indeed. And you -- did you come in search of your missing
father?"
"I did."
"You once said he was missing. It is a long journey for one so
young."
"It's a queer place for you to come to."
"I am with an exploring party from Yale College.
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