“Yes,” answered Nelson. “Let’s do what we started to do.”
“I don’t care,” said Tom.
So ahead they went, and in a minute were pulling themselves up onto the float. Beside it lay the steam-launch, her engine sizzling gently. The light they had seen came from the lantern which hung by the steam-gage. Softly they crept up the gangway to the pier above and there listened. The main building of Camp Wickasaw, a rather elaborate cottage, stood about two hundred feet away. Light shone from the door and from the window to the right of it. Both were open, and the boys thought at times they could hear the hum of voices. But they couldn’t be certain, for Tom’s teeth were chattering loudly and they were all shivering so they could scarcely keep still. But no one was in sight, and so they hurried to the end of the pier and Dan mounted the railing. The flagpole, a small affair, was secured to the floor of the pier and to a post of the railing, and on it, barely visible in the darkness, hung the obnoxious white flag. Unfortunately, it was two feet out of Dan’s reach.
“I’ve got to shin up a ways,” he whispered. Then he wound his legs about the slender pole and started up. And then—well, then there was a sharp sound of breaking wood, an involuntary cry from Dan, and an instant later a mighty splash as boy and pole and a section of railing went down into the water six feet below. And at that moment voices came from the house and footsteps crunched the gravel of the path!
[CHAPTER XV]
CONCLUDES THE ADVENTURE AND SHOWS TOM SLEEPING THE SLEEP OF THE JUST
At the first alarm Nelson and Tom had sprung down the gangway to the float, ready to lend assistance to Dan. Luckily there were no boats at the head of the pier, and so Dan had struck nothing harder than the water. He was up in an instant.
“Are you hurt?” called Nelson anxiously.