“Where?”
“To the right.”
Enid swung the wheel so sharply that Madge nearly fell overboard. And just to the right, not a stone’s throw away, she saw water break over a flat, ugly expanse of rock.
“That was a narrow squeak,” Enid laughed nervously. “Lucky you have good ears, Madge.”
“The rock wasn’t directly in our path.”
“The bell is slightly to the right, anchored on a buoy,” Enid explained, “but the rock extends a considerable distance under the water. If it hadn’t been for you, we’d have struck it sure.”
With Clingman’s Rock left behind, the channel was easy to follow. However, it was only a little past ten-thirty so Enid made no attempt at speed. Several times she caught her friend glancing back over the route they had traversed.
“Why do you do that?” she questioned. “Are you afraid some one is following us?”
Caught off her guard, Madge stammered a denial. After that, she took care not to watch for Rex, but once she thought she heard the faint muffled roar of an airplane engine.
It was only a little after eleven o’clock when they slipped quietly into a secluded cove near Cedar Point. Enid snapped off the motor. Now that the fatal hour approached, she found it difficult to keep from showing fright.