It was intensely dark in the bunk house when Bob awoke. It was so unusual for him to wake up during the night that for a moment he lay wondering what had disturbed him. All was still except for a variety of snores from members of the crew, but he was used to them and knew that they were not responsible. A glance at the luminous face of his watch told him that it was but a little past two o’clock. He turned over and settled himself to go to sleep again, when suddenly he realized that he was very thirsty. Pulling a small flashlight from beneath his pillow, he quietly slipped from the bunk and stole softly across the room toward the door which opened into the kitchen. “Of course the pail is empty,” he muttered a moment later. “Well, that means that I’ve got to get dressed and go out to the pump. I can’t go to sleep till I get a drink, that’s sure.” So stealing quietly back to his bunk, he quickly: drew on his clothes and a moment later the front door had closed quietly behind him. The pump from which they obtained drinking water was close to the office building, some three hundred yards from the bunk house, and almost half that distance from the lake. It was not nearly as dark as in the early part of the night, as the moon was shining through the light clouds making it possible to see for some little distance. Just before he reached the pump an opening in the woods gave him a view of the wharf. “Well, what do you know about that?” he said aloud, as he came to a sudden stop. “Where in the world is the Comet?” and the next moment he was running rapidly down the path toward the lake. His question was soon answered, for as he reached the end of the wharf he could see, in the dim light, the form of the boat some hundred yards off shore. “Mighty funny how she got loose,” he muttered, as he looked about him. Then, seeing that the rope was still tied to the post, he stooped down and quickly pulled it in. It was a short job, as only a few feet of it remained. Eagerly he examined the end. “Looks as though she had chafed it through,” he declared, as he saw the frayed end. “I don’t understand it though, as Cap’n Seth is too careful a man to tie up a boat so that it would chafe.” A very light breeze was blowing and he could not, for the moment, see that the boat was moving; but, as he watched it, he realized that it was slowly drifting down the lake. “Guess I’d better go get Cap’n Seth,” he thought, as he turned back toward the camp. He was half way to the bunk house when he stopped as a thought struck him. “Pshaw,” he said half aloud. “There’s no use in waking him up. I can take the canoe and bring her in myself. I know how to run her.” He turned and ran back to the little shed behind the office where the canoe was kept, stopping only long enough at the pump to get his delayed drink. A few moments later he was sending the light craft rapidly through the water toward the drifting steamer.