"Why not?"
"It is likely that path is watched, and it may be well enough not to let the watchers know one of us has remained here. If they think we are gone, they may betray themselves by their movements.
"How am I to go back, then?"
"Go round the island the other way. You can keep in this fringe of woods the most of the time, so that you
will not be seen. It may be a bit harder traveling, but I fancy it is the best thing to do."
"All right. Take care of yourself, Merriwell. Keep your eyes open, and do not get another crack on the head."
"Don't worry about that. Take your time."
So Bruce started off, leaving Frank there where he could watch the boat.
Not until Browning had disappeared and Frank was quite alone did he realize the loneliness of the place. The water washing against the rocky shore made the only sound to be heard, unless it was the occasional cry of a wheeling gull.
The tide was going out, and already the black ledges were rising out of the water in the distance. Those were called "half-tide ledges" by the fishermen. There were other black rocks which rose barren and bleak above the highest tides. Near those ledges at certain seasons of the year sportsmen set their "tollers," or decoys, and crouching in nooks of the rocks, fired hundreds of shots at the sea birds lured to their doom by the wooden representations of their mates.