Selecting a landing place on the eastern shore of the island, he beached the boat and drew it up safely. Then, with the gun in his hands and a quiver in his veins, he sought for the path that led to the hermit’s hut. Despite the fact that the sun had not yet set, that path was amazingly gloomy and dark. Piper’s hands gripped the gun almost fiercely as, with parted lips, he followed the path. Again he took note of the seeming utter absence of life and movement upon the island, and several times he paused to listen and to peer into the shadows on either side. At last, however, he reached the clearing and saw the old hut standing lurch-wise beneath the taller pines. And now the sunlight just touched the tops of those pines, telling that the sun was dropping behind the mountains. Twilight would follow in a few moments, and then darkness would gather over Spirit Island. Piper sprang the catch of the hammerless, set his teeth and advanced, his finger on the trigger. Up to the very door of the hut he went, halting there with one ear half turned and listening, although he kept his slantwise gaze fixed on the dim interior. He could hear it again, faint, muffled, yet regular and distinct enough—the ticking of the unseen clock! He had even thought of stepping, alone, inside that hut, but his resolution had been drawn upon to the limit, and he found it impossible to carry out the design. The shadows seemed to be thickening with amazing swiftness, and, shaken by the sudden dreadful thought of night upon that awesome island, Sleuth beat a precipitate retreat. “What’s the use?” he whispered huskily, as he retrod the path. “I can’t find out anything this way, and I’ve done more than any other fellow of our bunch has dared to do. If I tell them, they’ll think I’m lying.” The sun was gone when he reached the shore, and, arriving at the spot where he had left his boat, he made the disconcerting discovery that that likewise was gone. In the sand he could see the marks he had made when he drew the boat up, but, to his horror, it was not there, nor could it be seen afloat anywhere upon the lake. CHAPTER XXVI. PIPER MEETS THE GHOST. Trembling violently, Piper looked in vain for the missing boat. For a moment or two he thought it possible he had made a mistake, and that this was not the place where he had landed; but further investigation convinced him against his will that the boat had been left there. The cause of its disappearance he could not understand, and for the time being he was too excited to reason about it. Had he been calmer, he might have become convinced that it had not drifted away of its own accord.