The shore was lined with trees. It wasn’t much fun climbing up barefooted, and with thin clothes on, but the boys managed it, and soon were in a big willow, the thick leaves of which afforded a good screen.
They had no sooner perched themselves on limbs, well hidden by the foliage, than the sound of the boat’s keel grating on the gravelly shore was heard. Then came the captain’s voice.
“Scatter now and hunt for ’em. They can’t have gone far! We were after ’em too quick! But be careful men, I don’t want those boys hurt. Be easy, remember!”
“That’s queer,” thought Ned. “In fact this whole business is queer.”
The noise the men made as they crashed through the underbrush came plainly to the ears of the boys. They could see the gleam of lanterns the searchers carried, as they ran to and fro. But the tree proved a happy thought. None of the men imagined the boys were in it, and some of the pursuers even stood beneath the willow and voiced their remarks of disappointment.
For ten or fifteen minutes the search was kept up in the vicinity of where the boat had landed. The men made a circle about the place looking for the boys but did not find them. The chums, cramped from clinging to the branches, dared not move for fear of rustling the leaves, and disclosing their presence. Finally the searchers gathered about the boat, close to the tree.
“Guess they gave us the slip,” remarked the captain. “Smart lads those. Well, men, might as well go back. Get the boat ready.” The men moved off, Captain Needham remaining beneath the tree a moment longer. The boys heard him murmur: “The King of Paprica will not like this. I must get word to him at once.”
Then he moved away. A little later the sound of the boat being hoisted to the barge could be heard.
“Can’t we get down now?” whispered Fenn. “I’m all stiff and cold.”