“Not by a large majority,” added Wadsworth.
“I shall leave the glass with you, and when the monoplane comes in sight you can study every movement and quite likely pick up useful information.”
The proposal did not give the two much comfort, but it was really the right thing to do. Provided the brothers landed near Bunk, it ought to be as easy for two to locate him as it would be for a score of searchers. He had been an old friend of Dick and Harvey from earliest childhood, and they knew all his peculiarities. Held, as he no doubt was, under the spell of the Professor’s domineering brain, he might shrink from trusting himself in the care of strangers. It was not unlikely, as the brothers viewed it, that he would keep out of sight of Hunter and Wadsworth, having no knowledge of why they sought him, or whether they meant well, but it would be the other way when he recognized his old friends.
This being explained to Val and Fred they accepted it and the plan was agreed upon before the midday meal was concluded. Dick led the way to the tiny inlet at the rear of the tent, where the pretty little canoe had been drawn up the bank. He carried his rifle and a full supply of cartridges with him and had also his revolver, as did Harvey.
“I don’t suppose you have had occasion to use it yet?” said the elder inquiringly, while they paused for a minute or two to admire the graceful craft in front of them.
Harvey shrunk from telling the story of his meeting with the bear.
“I haven’t fired it off since leaving home,” he said.
“It isn’t likely you will have to do so,” remarked the elder, with no suspicion of the whole truth, “but it is well to be prepared. Step in.”
The canoe had been shoved into the water and Harvey carefully seated himself in the bow, though there was no difference in the fashion of the ends, except in the arrangement of the seats. Dick followed, first handing his gun to Harvey, who, having left his outer coat in camp, had nothing more to look after. The elder had had more experience in handling the ashen paddle, which he manipulated in Indian fashion, dipping the broad blade in the water on one side and drawing it back with a powerful sweep and outward twist of the wrists at the end of the stroke, which kept the canoe on an even course. Harvey, seated in the bow with his back to Dick, handled his paddle in a similar fashion on the other side of the craft.
The task of propelling the boat was so light and everything around so quiet that the two said much to each other. They had a great deal in common and talked of many things, of no interest to any one else.