She heard the clamor of her friends' voices as they saw the arrow shoot over their heads. Then they were silent.
Jerry ran back to her and unstrung the bow, putting it away in its niche. But from the same place he produced a blue-barrelled rifle.
"I know you won't tell Blent, or any of them, how to reach me, Miss Ruth," he said, looking at her with a smile.
"I guess not!" exclaimed the girl.
"I am going to show you the way out—to the other end. I wish you were wearing rubber boots like me."
"Why?"
"So you could wade in the stream when we come to it. That's how I threw them off the track," explained Jerry, laughing. "Why, I know this old island better than Uncle Pete himself knowed it."
"And yet you haven't found the box you say your uncle hid?" asked Ruth, curiously.
"No. I never knowed anything about it until Blent came to drive us off and swore that Uncle Pete had never had nothin' but 'squatter rights.' But I'm not sure that I couldn't find that place where Uncle Pete hid his treasure box—if I had time to hunt for it," added Jerry, gravely.
"That's what Mr. Blent is afraid of," declared Ruth, with conviction. "That's why he is afraid of your being here on the island."