"I heard it, too," admitted Margery.
"That was the boat," said Mr. Blank, scanning the forsaken lake anxiously. "It's Hillitt's fish-tug and it goes down to Lakeville at sundown every day when the weather's fair. The tug runs to Bear Bay. I expected to go home on that boat; but, unfortunately, I went to sleep and didn't wake up in time to signal her."
"She was very far out," volunteered Jean. "You couldn't have seen her from here—I looked in every direction when I heard that noise, but I couldn't see what was making it."
"I thought," confessed Marjory, "that it was some sort of an animal breathing queerly—I didn't exactly like it."
"Evidently," said Mr. Black, "that boat stayed a long way from shore—sound carries a great distance over water. Anyway, that eases my conscience a little. I ought not to have fallen asleep, but I didn't suspect that it was so late. You see, girls, our time is all off. Goodness only knows how long it took us to get here; and I'm sure I don't know whether it was one, two, or three when we ate our dinner. Now, what do you think that big, golden sun's doing—over there behind those trees?"
"I think," said Henrietta, eying it, sagely, "that it's either going down or coming up. And I know it can't be time for it to come up."
"And it can't possibly be time," protested Mabel, "for it to go down."
"I fear it is," said Mr. Black. "I ought never to have taken that nap."
"Peter," demanded Mrs. Crane, suddenly joining the group, "how are we ever going to get home?"
"Sarah," replied Mr. Black, with one of his sweet, whimsical smiles, "I'm blest if I know."