“Well, I was awake all the time,” Dan said, “and I’ll swear I didn’t hear a sound from it. But they must be back by this; it’s ten minutes to eleven.” “Well, just as long as we don’t meet them at the landing it’s all right,” said Nelson cheerfully. “Hush! What’s that?” They stopped short at the foot of the hill and listened breathlessly. “What?” whispered Dan. “I thought I heard voices,” answered Nelson. But after a moment, as no sounds reached them, they went on, and found the landing dark, save for the little glare of the lantern, and quite deserted. It was but a moment’s work to put one of the canoes into the water, and soon they were paddling stealthily along the shore toward the foot of the lake. The stars were bright overhead, but for all of that the night was pretty dark and here under the trees it was difficult to see their course and to keep from running aground. As a result they made slow progress. Bear Island was a darker blotch against the dark water. Wickasaw never displayed a lantern at night, but the boys thought they could make out a dim light where the landing ought to be. When they had reached a point along the shore about opposite the farther end of the island they drew the canoe half onto the shore and waded out into the darkness. “Swim for the landing,” instructed Dan, “and don’t make any noise. We’ll see what that light is before we get very near.” Then they struck out, swimming slowly and silently, Dan and Tom abreast and Nelson a length behind. The water was warm and felt grateful to their chilled bodies; although the days were warm the nights were getting cool. It was very good fun, this stealthy progress through the dark water with only the white stars to see. Nelson experienced an exhilarating sensation of excitement as they drew near the shadowy island; he felt like a conspirator, indeed, and one on a desperate mission. To be sure, the danger of being caught was very slight, he supposed, but there was enough of it to lend spice to the venture. The distance from shore to island was well under a quarter of a mile, but at the slow speed they went it was almost ten minutes before Dan called a halt a hundred feet from the landing. Nelson swam up to the other two boys, and they remained quiet for a moment, looking and listening. There was no sound to be heard, but an orange glow slightly above the level of the float puzzled them. Finally Tom was sent forward to reconnoiter. Presently he was back again. “It’s the Chi-chi-chi--” he sputtered excitedly. “Cut it out,” whispered Dan. “Say it quick without thinking.” “It’s the Chi-chi-chi-chi-chi----” “Steam-engine,” suggested Nelson _sotto voce_. “Chi-chi-Chicora!” blurted Tom finally in a hoarse whisper. “What?” asked Dan. “The Chicora? Then, Clint’s there visiting Doctor Powers. Wonder who’s with him?” “I think Thorpe went along in the launch,” said Nelson. “Lu-lu-let’s go back,” suggested Tom uneasily.