GOOD NEWS TRAVELS SLOWLY
The crowd of scatterbrained youngsters were smitten speechless for the moment. They stared at Bobby Blake, and then looked at each other curiously. Pee Wee was the first to find his voice.
"Aw, cheese it, Bobby!" he drawled. "You're kidding us."
"No. We've done a mean thing. We'll get them into trouble over to their school—"
"Good enough!" cried Howell Purdy, in delight.
"And maybe we'll get into trouble because of it, too," went on Bobby, seriously. "But whether we do, or we don't, we oughtn't to leave those fellows over there on the island all night. It's a mean trick."
"Say! haven't they played many a mean trick on us?" demanded Pee Wee, excitedly.
"That has nothing to do with it," said Bobby, still seriously. "It's cold and wet on that island. Maybe they are all soaking wet from the rain-storm. Suppose they should get cold—all of them—some of them—only one of them?"
This was rather a grave way to put it. Bobby was not much more thoughtful than other boys of his age—and he not eleven; but the thing had gripped him hard.
"I tell you," he said, quietly, "if none of you will go back with me, I'll go alone."