Not until an hour or more after dinner did any of the boys set out to visit Spirit Island. With the exception of Crane, all showed some eagerness to go; with the stingers extracted from his wounds, Sile was much more comfortable, but he made his condition an excuse for remaining at the camp. And, as the canoe was not large enough comfortably to carry more than three, Stone also self-sacrificingly agreed to remain behind. The day was hot and muggy and still, and there were some masses of clouds bulking up along the western horizon as the canoe put forth bearing the three investigators. The two who remained behind watched them from the shore and wished them luck. “Bring back that dog with ye, Sleuthy,” called Sile. “Yeou’ve got lots of courage in the daytime, even if yeou be rather chicken-hearted after dark.” “Bah!” flung back Piper from the waist of the canoe. “Anything we’ll find isn’t liable to make me run half as fast as you did this morning. As a sprinter, Craney, you could cop the blue ribbon if you happened to be chased by a ‘gouger’ or two.” “Thinks he’s smart, don’t he?” muttered Sile, turning to Ben. “Why, he’s the biggest coward I ever saw. He’d run from his own shadder.” In the full light of day Spirit Island wore a harmless, peaceful look, and the cool shadows of its pines seemed genuinely inviting to the perspiring lads who wielded the paddles. As they drew near the island Grant cast a glance toward the heavy black clouds, which were steadily mounting higher in the sky. “Think there’s going to be a shower, Phil?” he asked. “Wouldn’t wonder,” answered Springer. “Those look like thunderheads, though we haven’t heard any thunder yet.” At this very moment, however, a low, muttering, distant grumble came to their ears, as if far away beyond the mountains the storm was getting into action. “I think, comrades,” said Piper, “it will be wise for us to make all possible haste to conclude our investigations and return to the security of our tent. Without sufficient shelter, I’d scarcely find pleasure in being caught upon this island by a thunderstorm.” “There’s the hermit’s hut, you know,” suggested Rod. “I hadn’t thought of that,” returned Sleuth. “And, at any rate, it’s quite possible that the roof is rotten and leaky.” Again the thunder was heard, somewhat more distinctly this time, and the clouds seemed to increase in blackness and density as they rose. Choosing a place to land, the boys brought the canoe to the shore, got out and pulled it up safely. There they paused for a moment before seeking a way through the pines, thrilled a bit in spite of themselves by the fact that their feet were at last upon the haunted island. “Come on,” said Rod. “I agree that it will be a right good plan to hurry some.”