“Well, you’ve more confidence in your solving abilities than I have,” said Fleet.
“You’re scared—that’s what’s the matter with you.”
“I’m not!”
“Oh, very well; deny it, if you want, but we’ll draw our own conclusions, just the same.”
Fleet subsided at this, and the boys seated themselves on the verandah to await lunch which Hoki said he would prepare at once.
The mystery of the lodge did not interfere with their appetites, and they continued to discuss Bert’s disappearance as they ate. They tried to make some connection between the noises in the night, Mr. Lawrence’s departure in the motor-boat, and the disappearance of their chum, but, try as they might, they could form no plausible connection.
They decided to leave the lodge no more until the mystery was solved, so they hung around all the afternoon, half-expecting Bert to make his appearance and explain away the things that perplexed them. But supper-time came, and no Bert.
At six they ate again, Hoki preparing a meal fit for a king. They were living off the fat of the land, so to speak, and had Bert been with them, they would have been perfectly happy.
After dinner they sat on the verandah and watched it grow dark—not without a feeling of dread, though, it must be admitted. All sorts of things might happen in the lodge under cover of darkness. They knew not what to be prepared for, but something seemed to tell them that above all places, the basement was the one spot to keep their eyes on.
“Hoki,” said Chot, suddenly, when the Jap had finished the kitchen work and joined them on the verandah, “are there any guns about the place?”