“What did you think you heard, Jack?” whispered Buster, unconsciously lowering his voice.
“Something that sounded like the gurgling of water against the side of a boat, and voices in the bargain,” replied the other. “There, if you try, you can get the same thing yourself. Seems to me there are push poles being used to turn a boat in against the shore up above here a little ways.”
All of them strained their ears. A minute, two of them, passed, and they heard the swishing sounds Jack mentioned, each being followed by a “plunk,” as of a pole being dropped into the water for another push.
Then a voice, rather soft and melodious, came drifting to their ears.
“That’ll do, Jenks; we can tie up to the shore here, all right, and in the morning look for a suitable cove to lay the boat in, while we get to work, and make the changes. Just think of it breaking down above this island again. Only for the old bunch of ground sticking out here in the river we’d have had to anchor. And, Jenks, I guess we might as well bury that box here as tote it any further, you know. I hate to leave a thing I cared for so much behind, but it can’t be helped.”
[CHAPTER VII]
THE TREASURE CACHE
“H’st! keep quiet!”
As Jack gave utterance to this whisper he set about gaining his feet without making any racket. And no sooner had he accomplished this than he started to stepping on what few red embers of the fire there chanced to be left; so that almost in a “jiffy,” as Buster would have called it, the last glow had been effectually smothered, and there was no longer anything to betray the campers, unless the khaki-colored water-proof tent happened to show later on, should the moon rise.