“I don’t think anybody will run into us,” her brother said. “But I hope every other kind of craft on the lake carries a light.” Nevertheless, he followed his sister’s advice and lighted his lantern.
The moon had dropped out of sight. The sky had grown thick with mist so that not a star sparkled. There was a certain glimmer of light shimmering upon the surface of the water, but this illumination was not sufficient to exhibit more than the faintest outlines of objects at their level.
“Go easy, Darry,” advised Burd, in a low voice from the bow. “I declare I can’t see as far as I can reach.”
“You know that is a wood ahead,” said Amy. “It’s Jocklin Point. When we get around that we shall have a clear way to our landing. Do you hear the other folks, Jessie?”
All Jessie could hear was the chugging of the launch. The Water Thrush was not a fast boat, but it was seaworthy and roomy. The Roselawn young people had enjoyed many pleasant parties in it. And Darry was so good a mechanician that their parents never worried when the young folks were out on the lake in the Water Thrush.
With the moon gone the towering trees on shore cast a perfectly black shadow upon the lake out from Jocklin Point. Soon they could see the clearway beyond the shadow, and Darry increased their speed.
“It’s getting close to midnight. We must get home,” he said. “Anything in the way, Burd?”
His chum turned his head to look back into the lighted cockpit. “Plenty of water,” he began, and just then the launch ran, with a crash, head on upon something.
“What is it? Oh, what is it?” shrieked Amy.
“Oh, Darry!” gasped her chum, and for an instant she seized Darry’s arm.