“We’ve lost them now,” said Harry, dismally.
“It’s a good thing the wind has fallen,” replied Jerry.
“How so?”
“As soon as it is dark enough we can take the row-boat and follow in that.”
“That’s an idea.”
Soon night had settled over Lake Otasco. Then our hero and Harry lost no time in entering the tender of the Whistler.
“Make as little noise as possible,” cautioned Jerry.
He was in the bow peering ahead, while Harry was at the oars.
So they went on a distance of a quarter of a mile.
“See anything?” whispered Harry.