“Some people in a boat!” said Jack. “Do you see them? Away down there!”
“Yes,” said Mike, going pale. “Are they after us, do you think?”
“No,” said Jack, after a while. “I think I can hear a gramophone - and if it was anyone after us they surely wouldn’t bring that! They are probably just trippers, from the village at the other end of the lake.”
“Do you think they’ll come to the island?” asked Peggy.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “They may - but anyway it would only be for a little while. If we can hide all traces of our being here they won’t know a thing about us.”
“Come on, then,” said Mike, slipping off the rock. “We’d better hurry. It won’t be long before they’re here.”
The children hurried down to the beach. Jack and Mike stamped out the fire, and carried the charred wood to the bushes. They scattered clean sand over the place where they had the fire. They picked up all their belongings and hid them.
“I don’t think anyone would find Willow House,” said Jack. “The trees really are too thick all round it for any tripper to bother to squeeze through.”
“What about the hens?” said Peggy.
“We’ll catch them and pop them into a sack just for now,” said Jack. “The hen-yard will have to stay. I don’t think anyone will find it - it’s well hidden. But we certainly couldn’t have the hens clucking away there!”