"Nay! Nay! You and I, Jawn—just we-uns. Methinks this rain is going to keep on the job all evening. It will be dark soon. Those fellows must hole up somewhere for the night. I want to know where, and I want to know how they are fixed—if they are passing or permanent guests."
"You're going to call on them?" grunted Midkiff.
"That's according," Rex said lightly. "Say nothing to the other fellows. It's going to be a dusty time getting supper, but we might's well get it over with. Then you and I will adorn our manly forms in bathing suits and go reconnoitering."
Midkiff had his doubts about the advisability of this venture in the dark, and on an island quite unfamiliar to them. But he was loyal and had to confess that Rex Kingdon's ideas were almost always good.
As evening fell, the rain decreased in violence.
The bulk of the island was merely a huge shadow not more than two cable-lengths away. No light appeared upon it, nor did the crew of the Spoondrift hear a sound from the wooded shore.
Being curious when Rex and John got into their bathing togs, the others demanded an explanation.
"An exploring party," said Rex briefly. "We're going—Jawn and I—like those Thingumbobs of old, to see if this promised land is flowing with milk and honey. You're in command here, Red. See that little Hicks doesn't fall overboard and make a dent in the water, or that Cloudman doesn't choke on an appleseed. We'll return anon."
He and Midkiff slipped silently into the water and struck out for the shore. In the shelter of the island the surge of the sea was not difficult to breast. Both being strong swimmers, they soon came close in under the black bulk of the land.
The beach was narrow. The island rising, almost from the edge of the sound, was heavily wooded. Their vision having become adjusted to that partial light always present on the surface of moving water even in the darkest night, they made an easy landing upon the pebbly beach.