“No, but seriously. Suppose we cruise about a bit. We needn’t go far from the shore, and we can have an eye on the cabin. In case Denny is out on the water we may pick him up. Then we could tell him what was on, and warn him. We could do it even better than on shore here, for there’s no telling but what some of those fellows may be in hiding around here,” and Jack cast a look about. It was dark, but a full moon was coming up to make a light that revealed most objects.
“Then if there is a possibility that someone may be in ambush here,” said Walter, “we’d better keep a bit more mum. But I think Jack’s plan is a good one. Let’s cruise about a bit, but keep within sight of the cabin.”
No one had any objections so, after making a casual search about the cabin, and not finding anyone in hiding, the boys again got aboard the Dixie and started to cruise on the bay, that was now sparkling in the moonlight.
Jack and his chums kept a careful watch for Denny Shane’s boat. There were several motor craft out, for the night was one that invited trips on the water—calm and still, with a gentle breeze that had in it the tang of salt mingled with the sweet odors of Summer.
“I feel just like singing,” remarked Ed, after a pause during which the Dixie cruised about, not too far from the cabin.
“Have some regard for our feelings,” begged Jack. “Remember that we are under a great strain.”
“And Ed would be, too, if he sang,” said Walter. “At least I would feel constrained to remonstrate with him.”
“Huh! Think no one can sing but yourself!” retorted Ed.
“Moonlight always did have a queer effect on him,” remarked Jack.
Round about they cruised, and they were thinking of returning to make sure that Denny had not reached his cabin by some other route, unseen by them, when the motor of the Dixie gave a combined cough, groan and sneeze, and stopped short.