He had read enough of the character of the new tenderfoot scout to feel certain that Smithy would obey orders to the letter. Told to wait on the little pebbly beach until his superior officer joined him, he would stay there indefinitely; just as another lad, known to history and fame, Casibianca, "stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled," simply because his father had told him to remain there.
So Thad commenced to descend from his lofty perch, meaning to hunt Smithy up, and not only relieve his natural suspense, but reward him for his long vigil by relating the result of the exchange of signals.
That the new recruit would be deeply interested, he felt sure; for everything connected with the scouting business had a fascination for Smithy; now living an existence he may have dreamed about in former days, but really never hoped to personally experience.
Just then the loon, floating and diving out on the bosom of the water somewhere, had to give vent to his idiotic laugh. Possibly he had been observing the watcher in the dead tree-top, and was announcing his opinion of such silly antics when he noticed Thad begin to descend.
The sound struck a cold chill to the heart of the boy, though he laughed at himself immediately afterward for allowing such a feeling to come over him.
"It's only the loon," he said, as he again slipped from limb to limb, constantly nearing the base of the tree. "I suppose the thing's been watching me all the time, and wondering what under the sun a fellow could be doing, waving his old handkerchief around as though he were daffy. He looks on me as a lunatic, and I know him to be a loon."
Chuckling at his little joke, Thad presently reached a point where he could hang from the lower limb by his hands, and then drop lightly to the ground.
He waited only a minute to recover his breath, for after all the coming down had been more of a task than the mounting upward. Then he started for the shore of the lake, and the little beach that had witnessed both landings of the invading parties of scouts.
Twice now had that same beach afforded a surprise as unwelcome as it was unexpected, when the boat had vanished so strangely. Thad hoped history would not feel bound to repeat itself. True, they no longer had a boat to lose, since it had already disappeared; but then, there was Smithy!
As he drew near the beach, he tried to discover the form of his comrade somewhere in the open, but without success. Still, Thad knew that the tenderfoot would doubtless consider it the part of wisdom to hide, while waiting for his comrade to finish his work aloft, and join him.