“Say, shouldn’t Mr. Hatfield and Chips be getting back?” Dan presently asked, glancing at the kitchen clock. “They’ve been gone a long while, or so it seems to me.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” agreed Mr. Holloway. “Suppose we go down to the river again and see if the boat is coming.”
Leaving the others to dry out by the stove, Dan and Mr. Holloway went down to the water’s edge. The river lapped angrily at their feet. As far as they could see there was no sign of a returning boat.
“No use to worry,” Mr. Holloway said. “They’ll be coming along any minute—unless they should have run into a bad situation on the island.”
“The river’s still rising,” Dan observed. “Though not as fast as it was an hour ago.”
He and Mr. Holloway took a last look out across the river toward Rabb Island and then turned away. On the steps leading to the house, Dan felt a strange compulsion to pause and once more gaze over his shoulder.
As he did so, he saw several flashes of light from the direction of the island.
“Wait, Mr. Holloway!” he exclaimed. “I saw something just then!”
Excitedly, he indicated the direction from whence the flashes had come. “I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, sir.”
Once more the pair returned to the water’s edge, watching intently and waiting. Perhaps three minutes elapsed and then a dim light blinked on and off several times.