"What's the matter?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm out of the path again."
"I don't see that that makes any difference; we must be close to the bay. Push on!"
They felt their way in silence for a few minutes and then stopped once more. Not the slightest sound was given out by the water that was somewhere near them. Alvin hesitated, as he was afraid of a mis-step.
At this juncture, when the two stood motionless and uncertain, nature, singularly enough, came to their relief. The laboring moon for a few seconds shone partly through the heavy clouds that were drifting before its face, and the dim illumination revealed that two paces farther would have taken them into the inlet. Scarcely was this discovery made when blank night again shut them in.
"Well, here we are," said Alvin; "and what comes next?"
After all that had been said and done, it dawned upon both at this moment that their whole venture was foolish to the last degree. Suppose they located the Deerfoot, they would be powerless to do anything more. Two unarmed youths could not retake it from the thieves, and they might grope around the place for the whole night without learning the truth. If they had been able to reach the spot before night, or, failing in that, had waited till the morrow, their eyes would have quickly told them all they wished to know.
Standing side by side nonplussed for the moment, Alvin sniffed several times.
"Do you notice it?" he asked in a guarded undertone.
"Notice what?"