“All right,” agreed Tom, “Hello, where did we come in?”
As he glanced about he realized for the first time that he was not sure of his bearings. A dozen and more openings showed among the mangroves and try as he might he could not tell which was the one by which they had entered the lagoon.
For an instant Frank looked about. “Over there,” he declared positively. “I remember that funny-shaped tree.”
“All right then,” replied Tom, “I thought for a minute we were lost.”
Feeling sure they were right the boys pulled into the narrow channel, chatting and laughing over their adventure until suddenly Tom stopped rowing and glanced about.
“Say, this isn’t the place we came in,” he declared. “We never passed here. Look ahead—those stumps are right in the middle of the channel and we’d have seen them sure.”
“Golly, I believe you’re right!” agreed Frank, “Say, we’ll have to go by compass.”
Dropping his oars he reached into his pocket and slowly a strange expression of wonder, amazement, surprise and fright overspread his face.
“It’s gone!” he said in an awe-struck tone. “It’s lost! Gosh, Tom, it must have dropped out of my pocket when I went overboard!”
“Jiminy, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Tom. “But you needn’t be so frightened, we can go back and start over again.”