The faint light of the stars pierced the blackness of the forest, so they did not have to stumble along, although the greatest of caution was exercised every moment.
They reached the lake without encountering a person, and then launched the canoe. They did not dare trust the weight of the four to the frail craft, and so it was planned that King and Phil should remain behind, while Art and Garry paddled out into the lake. They did not have to wait a great while until the chugging of the powerful engine in the motor boat was heard.
Paddling with the noiseless stroke of the Indians, they followed after a reasonable time had elapsed. They had taken only a few strokes when Art whispered:
“Here, we’re going at this thing wrong. When that raft is loaded and starts back across the water, it will make too much speed for us to follow. Suppose we start now for the other side of the lake. Then we can lie off shore and wait for its arrival and see who meets the raft to unload it. That will complete your evidence, and we’ll duck out for the camp and somehow get hold of Dick. What say?”
Without a word, Garry, who was paddling stern, gave his paddle a twist and the canoe turned in its course. They reached the other side and then lay off shore as agreed, giving the paddles an occasional twist to keep the canoe from drifting, for a gentle breeze was stirring the lake.
After a long wait they heard the approach of the motor boat, which, as was customary, was running without lights. Far down the shore they saw a light appear as though some one were flashing a lamp. It was probably to guide the boat to its destination in the darkness. When the boat reached its objective point, they paddled noiselessly to within a few feet of it, and beached the canoe. Walking with the stealth of Indians, they came close to where the boat was being unloaded.
“By jove, I know that voice,” whispered Garry, as he heard a man ask:
“So this is how the trick is done? Pretty clever, I call it. Steal the timber and then raft it across to where you have your trucks waiting and hustle it to the railroad spur. Mighty good work on the part of Barrows.
“That’s Carson himself; used to be associated with Father,” whispered Garry. He and Howells were hiding back of a tree, well away from danger of being seen. At that moment Carson struck a match to light his pipe.
“Get a good look at him, we will want to identify him in court if necessary,” said Garry. Howells nudged him to make him understand that he had done so.