“How do you feel, Bob?” asked the professor.
“A little better, I think.”
But Bob’s flushed face and unnaturally bright eye did not bear out this statement.
“You had better go back to bed,” decided Mr. Snodgrass. “I’ll give you some more medicine. I think you are getting a touch of malaria mixed with your fever.”
The exertion of getting out of bed and firing the gun had greatly weakened Bob and he was much worse. They ate a hurried breakfast, and the professor gave the patient some more medicine.
“We ought to look for our boat,” said Ned. “If we lose that it’s all up with us. Suppose we walk along shore. We may get a sight of it.”
“Good idea,” agreed Uriah Snodgrass. “I’ll stay here with Bob and you and Jerry can move in opposite directions. You can’t get lost if you follow the shore and the one who first sights the boat can fire three shots and they will call the other to him.”
Ned and Jerry agreed that this was a good plan and started off. Ned walked quickly along the shore, keeping a watch for the Dartaway but the sight of her did not reward his eyes. As he was proceeding, having tramped for over two hours, he heard a noise in the bushes just ahead of him where a little point of land jutted out into the lake.
“Some one is coming,” reasoned the lad, holding his gun in readiness as he thought of the ugly negroes.
An instant later a figure came into view. Ned started as he caught sight of it. He could not see it distinctly but he observed a gun barrel. Then he had a glimpse of a red cap.