Down through the black woods they went, Shultz seeking to keep so close to Osgood that he could put out his hand any time and touch him. Presently through the trees they saw the moonlight silvering the placid water. Reaching the shore, they discovered they were close to Pine Point, which, projecting into the lake, cut it there to its narrowest width. On the opposite shore lay the railroad, over which Shultz had first thought of making his escape from Oakdale.
“It’s something like searching for a needle in a haystack,” said Ned hopelessly. “There’s not one chance in a hundred that we, unaided, can find Hooker in these woods.”
But Charley still clung to the tattered skirts of hope. “Let’s go out upon the point. From the end of it we can get a look at a long sweep of shore in both directions.”
“That will simply make us walk farther, and your ankle must be——”
“Confound my ankle! Don’t you worry about that.”
“You shouldn’t be crippling around on it. It’s liable to lay you up for a long time, and every step you take makes it worse.”
“What do I care? What do I care how long I’m laid up? That’s nothing now. I’m going out on the point.”
He would not have gone had Ned refused, but Osgood decided to humor him.
At the outer extremity the point took a curve, so that on one side it sheltered Bear Cove, into which Silver Brook emptied. As they reached that curving outer shore, a small boat—a punt—issued from the cove, passed that hook-like nose of land and appeared in the moonlight which bathed the surface of the lake. The occupant of the punt, who was propelling it with a paddle, was Hooker!
“There he is!” shouted Charley.