"Thought you told us good Scouts were always respectful to our elders?" interrupted Ted, he of the "grouch."
"Respectful where respect is due," came the quick response. "We can tell the gentleman that we have sent the rest of the gang back for the sheriff——"
"And good Scouts never tell lies——" This from Ted again.
"Be still or I'll make it the truth by sending you back after him. We ought to make the try, anyway, because that makes our next move easier. If we can't get on the island in the open, we've got to use a little strategy. If we just could get our boat around to the other side of the island——"
"I've got it!" cried Dave. "Our boat's down the river. While the bunch of us keep up a demonstration along the shore here, two of us could slip down and get the boat and sneak in at the lower end."
"Good. We'd best waste no time about it because it's going to be coming on dark before we know it. Who's going along with me?"
"To the island? I'll go. The man knows me," agreed Jerry. "Where's your boat?"
The rest waited in the cover of the bushes while Phil and Jerry quietly made their way down the river bank to where the Scout boat was moored. They sprang in at once, Phil pushing off and hopping lightly to the oars. There was only one pair, but he sent the boat skimming across the ripples. No one was in sight on the island, and they were in hopes of making a landing unobserved, but just as their boat touched shore the willows parted and the man stepped out on the high bank.
"Back again?" he demanded gruffly.
"Oh, yes," replied Phil easily. "We came back to see if you'd let us look for a box of tackle one of the boys thinks he left down where we were fishing this morning."