In a few moments they heard the distant sound of oars and the low murmur of voices, and it was not long before, in the midst of the gloom, they beheld a dark object slowly drawing near, and knew it was the boat from the hotel. “Now,” said Granger softly, “keep perfectly still and watch me materialize.” He waited until the boat seemed to pause some rods from the shore. It contained a number of persons, whose words could be distinctly heard. One man was laughing in a boasting way as he told the others that it was all a ridiculous piece of folly, but a nervous, excited woman was begging him to keep still. Crouching, Granger put his hand on the dog, whispering a command: “Sing, Bob—sing.” Immediately the animal lifted its muzzle and gave vent to the most doleful howling imaginable. Within four feet of the creature, Piper felt a momentary symptom of the emotion that had possessed him on the occasion when his ears were first greeted by that awesome sound. From the boat there came sudden little exclamations and screams, both masculine and feminine. “I told you!” one of the ladies was heard repeating triumphantly. “I’ve heard it before. Now watch; you’ll see something more.” “Good boy, Bob,” whispered Granger, rising. “Easy, sir. Come.” Very deliberately and very slowly he stepped forth from the darkness of the pines. In truth, he moved so slowly that at a distance, seen through the darkness, it might have seemed that he simply appeared, without taking any steps at all. Imitating his master, the dog likewise advanced until both stood out in view, with the dark trees as a background. Still more excited exclamations rose from the party in the boat. “There he is—there’s Old Lonely’s ghost!” palpitated the lady’s voice. “There’s his dog, too! See! see!” “Let’s get nearer. Let’s land,” suggested a man. But, somehow, there was a false note in his words, which seemed to betray that he was not as eager to put his feet on the island as he wished the others to think him. “I wouldn’t do it for all the money in the world,” declared the lady. “We’re near enough. Don’t move another inch toward that island.” For thirty seconds, perhaps, Granger stood quite still; and then, stepping backward, he retreated as slowly, silently and deliberately as he had advanced; and in this manner he must have made it seem to the occupants of the boat that he actually faded and vanished from their view like a wraith. The dog also retreated slowly, although it turned about to do so. “Great work,” chuckled Piper, as Granger crouched beside him. “But what if they do land?” “They won’t,” was the whispered assurance. “They’ll go away directly.” He was right. After lingering a few minutes, as if desiring again to see the “ghost,” the party in the boat rowed away, their oars clanking in the locks. CHAPTER XXVII. THE SECRET.