“You’re bound to hear things in the dark,” returned Wyn, cheerfully.
“But it was somebody coughing.”
“A bird?” ventured Wyn. “I heard one splashing in the sedges as I came along in the canoe.”
“A bird clearing its throat?” laughed Polly. “Not likely!”
She did not bother about it again, but squeezed Wyn’s arm. “Tell me what the matter is. It must be something very important to bring you ’way over here alone at night.”
“That’s right. It is,” replied Wyn, and she related to Polly the thing that was troubling her.
“And, oh, Polly! if that thing I hit under the water should be that boat—”
“Oh, Wyn! What would father say?”
“He’d be delighted. So would we all. And we must find out for sure.”
“I’ll tell him in the morning. We’ll go there and see—”