“I could sleep right out in the open sun with my face turned up to the sky,” said big Bob, yawning. “Well, nighty night, folks.”
Nothing occurred during MacDonald’s watch, and at the end of the two-hour period he awakened Farnum, in keeping with the agreement.
“Thought some of letting you sleep on,” he said. “But, to tell you the truth, I been travelin’ hard myself, and need a little sleep, too.”
“Right,” said Farnum. “I’d have been peeved if you hadn’t waked me.”
Several hours later, Farnum keeping lonely vigil among the bushes by the lake shore, descried a canoe shoot out of the mouth of the stream down which they, too, had come and swing into the lake. At first, as only the bow of the canoe appeared, he was startled, believing Lupo’s Indians already were on the trail. But a moment later, with relief and yet surprise to see them there, he made out the two figures in the boat as those of Dick and Art.
The pair rested on their paddles a moment, scanning the shore and also, Farnum noted, apparently casting anxious glances behind them. He was too far away, however, to see whether that were really the case. Farnum realized that, with the skin kayak belonging to MacDonald now drawn safely out of sight among the bushes, beside their own canoes, Dick and Art would not have the same indications pointing to the island that had he on arrival. Therefore, he stepped from the bushes and was just about to set his cupped hand to his mouth and call when the unexpected occurred.
Dick and Art already had dipped their paddles into the water again and were making a wide swing with the evident intention of bringing the canoe parallel to the shore but some distance out, when Farnum’s startled eyes beheld another canoe arrive at the mouth of the stream behind them.
Action was as quick as thought. Dick and Art evidently had managed to obtain one of Lupo’s canoes and were being closely pursued. How closely, moreover, apparently they did not know. He must warn them, not only of his presence and of help close at hand, but also of the danger behind them. The course they were taking would bear them away from the island and, unless changed at once, would make it possible for Lupo to cut them off from their friends.
Although he had left his rifle at camp, as he stumbled out with sleep filling his eyes and dulling his brain, Farnum had his automatic swinging in the holster at his belt. Whipping it out, he shot three times in rapid succession.
At the sound, Dick and Art stared towards the island where Farnum, stepping into the open, was vigorously waving his hat to attract their attention. Lupo’s men also set up a shout, as they churned the water racing to cut off their quarry.