“Well,” he whispered softly, “this is the last night under the stars, so I might as well make the most of it. Guess I’ll paddle around and finish my dreaming out here while I’m at it!”
He entered the canoe noiselessly and pushed off, lapping the water lightly with the paddle, seeming hardly to have touched it at all.
The fact that a tragedy had entered the lake that day, did not make Westy fear it at night. What he was not afraid of living, he surely wouldn’t fear dead.
His thoughts drifting lazily along and with his dreamy eyes fixed on Her Majesty, the Moon, he felt something strike the canoe.
The impact felt no more than what a small log would in striking it, but nevertheless Westy, always observing, looked.
It was mentioned before that Westy did not know what fear was. To retract it a little it can be here recorded, that he did receive quite a shock at first when he looked over the side of the canoe.
There floating in the water, directly in the moonlight, was the skeleton of a man and a few yards away from that—was another.
CHAPTER XLII—THE LOST IS FOUND
This time Westy uttered a cry, even if only one of surprise, but still a cry and it awakened the little slumbering camp.
He had paddled back to shore by the time Uncle Jeb and Artie reached there. Telling them of his discovery, they jumped into the canoe and went back to the spot. The skeletons were still floating there all right and with the aid of their paddles the boys succeeded in pushing the spooky-looking things onto shore.