“It’s wet. It’s the very towel that was used to hold the ice compress on Roy’s head.” “If that’s right,” said Nelson swiftly, “he must be near. Perhaps he’s hiding close by in the bushes. We must search every foot of this island.” “Every inch of it,” agreed Piper, “and we want to be about it right away. Let’s fall back to the place where we came on, and begin there. We must spread out and then advance together. There must be some system about it.” Following his directions, they began the search on the island. It was dark, pokey work in the midst of the thicker growths, but, nevertheless, they did it with an amount of thoroughness that made it seem impossible for them to overlook a person seeking to hide on that small patch of dry land. Yet, when they had covered it all and reached the western side beyond which the swamp lay impassable for a person afoot, they had found no additional token of Hooker. “Too bad,” said Nelson, discouraged. “He isn’t here. He can’t be here.” “It doesn’t seem possible,” admitted Piper, “yet this towel is sure evidence that he has been here.” “He must have gone away before we came,” was Osgood’s opinion. “I don’t believe he could have dodged us after we got on to the island.” Almost with one accord, they turned to Piper. “What be we goin’ to do next, Billy?” asked Crane. “Let’s take one more look into that old camp,” suggested the leader, who, although he did not admit it, was almost at his wit’s end. “I know where there’s an old pitch-pine log, and we ought to get a piece of that to serve as a torch.” The log, which had been partly hacked up for firewood, was found, and a slender resinous strip was torn from it. Lighting one end of this strip of wood, Piper fanned it into a bright flame, and, bearing it in his hand, boldly entered the shanty. The torch revealed nothing they had not previously seen, but it did give them complete assurance that the boy they sought could not be hiding there. “Yes, he got away, that’s sure,” said Nelson; “and there’s only one way by which he could do it. He had to go back as he came.” “And therefore,” said Billy quickly, “he must be in the woods somewhere yonder. That’s where we should look for him now.” “Perhaps,” ventured Crane, “he’s near enough to hear us. Oh, Hooker! Hey, Roy!” Piper sprang at him savagely. “Stop that, you idiot!” he snarled. “Stop shouting that way! What are you trying to do?” “Why, I thought he might hear me.” “Yes, he might and be frightened into fits. No more of that fool business, Sile. Keep still and come on. We’ll get off right away and do the best we can hunting for him over yonder.” Over the treacherous crossing they returned to the solid ground beyond the border of the swamp. Looking backward, Cooper tugged at Springer’s sleeve. “Now I’m afraid we _won’t_ find him, Phil,” he confessed. “I’m afraid nobody will find him tonight. And when they do, it wouldn’t surprise me if they dug his body out of this old swamp.” CHAPTER XXII