The men appeared to be well contented with their camp. They lounged around near the shore, but without showing any desire to fish, and otherwise behaved as if determined to remain.
When night came Jet felt more than lonely. The night noises of the forest almost frightened him, and only by piling the fire high with wood could he keep his courage screwed to the "sticking point."
He had not slept more than half an hour, and was promising himself a long nap after the sun rose; but when the day dawned he had something more serious to think about.
He watched Bob and Sam as they prepared breakfast, and then, much to his surprise and sorrow, saw them launch the boat, packing into her all their belongings.
"Jimminy! They're going to leave, and I've sent that telegram just at the wrong time. Now, what's to be done?"
There could be no question but that the men were intending to break camp, and, uncertain as to what he should do, Jet watched until all the camp equipage had been stowed on board the craft.
Then they pushed off, rowing leisurely down the lake, and again Jet asked himself what should be done.
To pursue them in the boat, no matter how far in the rear he might keep himself, would simply be to tell the men he intended to watch them, and, unfamiliar as he was with the country or woodcraft, it seemed both foolish and dangerous to follow on land.
Not until those he so ardently wished to keep in sight had rowed fully a mile away did he arrive at any decision, and then he said to himself:
"There's no other way out of it. I must go on, and take the chances. I only hope when Jim comes back he won't be such a fool as to pull down the lake in search of me, for they'd be certain to see him."