In some places the bank went down straight into the water, and they could not drop in without making a noise. In others, however, it shelved somewhat, and these Wilson explored with the greatest care. Suddenly he stopped and beckoned the boys to come nearer. They gathered about him. “Look at this,” he whispered, and they saw that he had his hand on the stern of a small boat that had been drawn in the shelter of a little arch at the side of the canal. “Just what the doctor ordered,” commented Frank, as he saw that the boat was big enough to carry four on a pinch and could faintly see the outline of a pair of oars lying across the thwarts. “It beats swimming,” murmured Tom. “Get into it,” ordered Wilson. “No, don’t do that,” he said hastily, as Billy was about to take up one of the oars. “I’m afraid they’ll hear us if we use the oars. We’ll just push it across with our hands. It’s slower but it’s safer.” They slipped into the boat as silently as ghosts, and dipping their hands in the water with the utmost caution began to propel the craft towards the further bank. The boat was a homemade affair, probably built by some peasant, and was heavy and clumsy. Moreover, with the four it was forced low in the water and moved with difficulty. But there was plenty of time, for they had the greater part of the night before them. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the boat progressed. No shot greeted it, no hail from the shore told that it was discovered. The silence was almost uncanny. On they went until at last the further bank loomed up before them. Soon they were near enough to touch it with their hands. But it was smooth and steep and they could not reach the top. They worked their way along the wall, until finally they came to a place where several stones had fallen out, so that the holes left by them served as holds for their hands and feet. At a whispered command from the corporal, Frank worked his way up until his eyes were on a level with the top of the bank. There he stood and looked and listened with every faculty intent. “Nothing stirring,” he reported, as he let himself down again in the boat. “Either the Germans haven’t strung their lines down this far or they’re lying mighty low. I think it’s worth taking a chance to land here. There’s a patch of woods a hundred yards or so away, and if we can reach that we can take our bearings and decide on what we’ll do next.” “All right,” said the corporal after a moment’s consideration. “I’ll chance it on your judgment, Sheldon. We’ll leave the boat here and Bradford with it.” Tom made a move to protest, but discipline asserted itself and he resigned himself without a word, although sorely disappointed at not being allowed to go on with the others. “The hoot of an owl will be the signal,” Wilson told him as they prepared to leave the boat. “When you hear that, give the answer so that we can find our way to where you are. Have the oars all ready, as we may have to leave in a hurry.”