“You must be dreaming,” scoffed Chet. “There’s no one there.”
“I can’t see any one now, but I’m sure I saw some one moving against the snow down by the northern end of the island.”
“Perhaps it was some animal,” Biff suggested.
“It looked like a man. Of course, he was so far away that I can’t be sure. I just caught a glimpse of him.”
“Well, we will find out when we get back.”
By the time they reached the boats again, Frank’s prediction of a storm seemed to be in a fair way of being verified. The whole western sky was black and a light breeze sent the snow skimming across the surface of the ice.
“We’ll just about make it. Thank goodness, the wind is in our favor,” said Frank, as he clambered into his boat.
They started off and made a quick run across the intervening stretch of ice. It was already growing dark when they reached the island. The boys could see the snowstorm approaching down the bay, sweeping toward them like a gigantic gray veil. It was beginning to snow and the air was filled with swirling white flakes.
“Just in time!” shouted Chet.
They put their boats in shelter for the night, then scrambled up the path toward the cabin. Frank unlocked the door and they dashed inside.