After supper Crane cleaned the salmon, and for a time they sat around chatting in the soft, warm darkness. Of them all, Piper was the only one who seemed moody and thoughtful, ignoring the efforts of the others to rally him. Finally, growing drowsy, Grant rose, yawned and stretched his arms above his head, announcing that he intended to turn in. Suddenly his arms came down with a snap and he leaned forward a little, staring out upon the lake. “Look here, fellows,” he said, a touch of suppressed excitement in his voice, “what’s this? Tell me what you see away yonder in the direction of Spirit Island?” He had lifted his arm and was pointing. They sprang to his side and stood in a group, staring over the placid, night-shrouded waters of Phantom Lake, every one of them feeling his nerves tingle and thrill. “It’s a lul-light!” cried Springer. “See it? There it is!” “A light,” echoed Piper, “and it’s on Spirit Island! There, it’s gone!” They had all seen the light, which seemed to stare at them like a huge fiery eye that suddenly winked and vanished. Breathless and in dead silence, they waited, and in a moment or two the glaring eye shone forth again for a twinkling and vanished. A dozen times this was repeated before the light disappeared and was seen no more, although they continued to watch for it for a full half hour. “Well,” said Piper at last, “perhaps you’ll believe what we told you, now.” “A howling dog, ghostly figures and a mysterious vanishing light,” muttered the Texan. “This sure is all very fine and interesting. Yes, fellows, we’ll visit that island tomorrow.” Presently, when they went to bed and tried to sleep, Piper was not the most restless one among them. On the previous night, after disposing of the sleeping bag, he had rolled and groaned while his companions snoozed comfortably and serenely, but now he heard first one and then another stirring on the bough beds, and it was a long time before the breathing of any boy indicated that he had succeeded in cajoling slumber. Even after he was asleep Crane tossed and muttered incoherently. Piper was just drifting off when Sile uttered a sudden yell, which was followed by a tremendous commotion. “I’ve got ye!” cried Crane wildly. “I’ve got ye!” “Lemme go! Take your hooks off my windpipe!” wheezed the voice of Springer. “Help, fellows! Sile has gone loony! He’s ch-choking me!” In the darkness there was a scramble to separate the struggling bed-fellows, and, with remarkable forethought, Piper, keeping away from the mix-up, struck a match and lighted the lantern. The light revealed Grant clutching Crane and struggling to hold him, while Stone had a grip on Springer. The latter was protesting. “Let up!” he entreated. “I’m not dud-doing anything; it was Sile. He gave a yell right in my ear that near sus-split the drum, and then he straddled me and began shutting my wind off.”