After this some one proposed a game of "I spy!" among the rocks, to which the others readily agreed.
As they were scampering along Dick cried out, "Hullo! there's Braithwaite!—Come on, Dandy, and have a game! 'Twill do you good after all that dry stuff at Gayton to-day!"
"All right," replied Braithwaite, who did not often join in these rough sports; "where are you going?"
"Up to the rocks. Come along; we'll give the rest a breather!" And off he went, light of foot and heart and, I am afraid, somewhat light of head. Indeed it was partly owing to one of his mischievous pranks that the incident which I am about to relate occurred.
After playing a considerable time on the rocks, they went back across the bay. It was getting dusk now, and the tide, though still some distance out, was flowing shoreward. Some of the boys, wishing their companions good-night, started for home; five or six gathered at the stone bridge for a chat.
Then it was that Dick Boden made his unfortunate proposal.
"I've thought of a ripping game," said he. "See this knife? I'll hide it somewhere in the Old Fort, and you can try to find it."
"It will soon be dark," objected Braithwaite.
"Not too dark to see the knife, for a bit."
"The tide's coming in too, and you know how fast it comes in just here."