“Me? Oh! please don’t ask me to go along, Jack. That lame foot of mine has been hurting again like anything, and I’m that clumsy I might tumble all over myself and give the thing away.”
“Oh, shucks! I don’t mean that,” Jack replied. “But when that big cloud sails over the moon I want to slip into my little dinky here, and paddle quietly ashore. I’ll hand you the rope I’ve got tied to the stern; and when you feel that shake three times, pull the boat out again, and let it float with yours. Understand?”
“Yes, yes. And I’ll do it all right, never fear. If it wasn’t for that plagued lame foot, now, Jack.”
“Let up on that, please. Now, look out, there she goes under.”
Even as Jack spoke the moon said goodbye to the world for a short time, and hid her smiling face behind a cloud that was darker than any that had thus far sailed across the starry heavens on this particular night.
Being all ready, Jack crept into the small tender, gun in hand. He pushed alongside the Wireless and managed to pass the end of a rope to Josh, who was waiting to receive the same.
Gently the paddle was wielded, and the little “punkin-seed of a boat,” as the boys sometimes termed the dinkies, was noiselessly wafted shoreward. Landing, Jack shifted his person to the sand, and then gave the requisite number of tugs at the rope, after which he shoved the boat off.
He knew that Josh would attend to all that part of the business, and gave it no further heed. Indeed, he had all he wanted to take care of in following out the rather venturesome plan of campaign he had arranged.
For somehow Jack was of the opinion that the mystery of the island was to be revealed to any one daring enough to go ashore and investigate, which was just what he had determined to do.