“Make reasonably good time, Bluff, but don’t push yourself, mind. There’s no such great hurry as all that. When you get to town go right away to police headquarters and see if you can find Mr. Dodd.”
“What if he happens to be away?” asked Bluff, wishing to be prepared for any emergency that might chance to arise.
“Then wait as long as you can for him. Should you get tired in the end, leave a letter to be delivered as soon as he shows up; then return to us here. It may be possible, even as you hint, that the sheriff is away hunting the woods to the south for those two rascally, thievish hoboes. That’s all, Bluff. Good-by, and good luck!”
Bluff shook hands with each of his chums. Then he gave his canoe a push that started it going out, sprang in over the stern with the accurate balance of an expert, picked up his paddle and commenced his moonlight cruise back to town.
Frank and Will stood there watching him as long as they could see the dark object upon the moonlit water of the lake; then they turned and silently entered the camp once more.
From somewhere out upon the great stretch of water came the strange cry of a loon that had lingered ere going to its northern summer home. The sound was particularly mournful, it seemed to Frank.
“Can he make it, do you think?” asked Will, who seemed unusually worried to-night; for all these stories about wonderful chances which he had lost had begun to work upon his mind.
“Without the slightest doubt. Why not? There’s no sea running, the wind has died away to a whisper, and the moon is bright. Why, Bluff would like nothing better than a circuit of the entire lake at such a time,” replied Frank.
“I was just wondering whether anything might get after him on the water, that’s all,” remarked the other.
“Chuck that sort of talk. Don’t be a pessimist, Will. Of course he can make it, and, perhaps, as he says, they may all be here by morning, ready to gather in those clever rascals,” declared Frank, stoutly.