“That thing is a marking buoy,” muttered Ned under his breath. “Now we’ll see what’s going on here!”
In this, however, the boys were doomed to disappointment. Heavy clouds again blotted out the moon, and although the watchers crept to the water’s edge, they could see nothing except the dark hull of the vessel as it lay motionless.
“They’re probably coming ashore in a small boat. Be ready to run if they land near us,” warned Ned.
But no boat was lowered from the mysterious stranger and, except for an occasional faint splash, no sound reached the eager ears on shore. An hour passed and then it was seen that the vessel was in motion. Gradually her dark form grew dimmer till it melted from sight amid the shadows that lay black upon the broad lake. Again for a brief moment the clouds parted and the brilliant moonlight whitened the sands and tipped the tiny ripples with its radiance. Every rock and bush along shore stood revealed with startling distinctness, but on the silvered surface of the lake nothing was to be seen. The buoy—if such it was—had vanished.
“I suppose that boat took it away,” suggested Dick.
“Possibly, but I’m not sure,” replied Ned. “We saw it appear and maybe sometime we’ll find out where it came from and where it went. There doesn’t seem to be anything that we can do here. Let’s get back to the house; it’s almost two o’clock.”
Retracing their steps, the boys had reached the scrub oak when they halted with one accord and stared through the leafy screen.
“What did you think you saw?” demanded Ned, sharply.
“Why, why, it might have been a firefly,” stammered Dick, “but just for an instant I fancied it was a—”
“You thought maybe it was the tail light of an automobile going into that old wood-road,” interrupted Ned, grimly. “That’s what you thought—and I guess maybe you were right.”