“They die ga——oh, gee! that’s a bad one. I’m going to bed on that,” cried Fleet.
“Glad I found something to send you to bed on besides a full stomach,” laughed Pod.
Fleet did not reply, but began making preparations to lie down under the tent. The other boys gradually arose, stretched themselves and also prepared to retire.
While they were fixing their blankets, there was a sudden low cry from Chot.
“Sh! Listen!”
For a few seconds there was a profound silence.
Then the sound of voices, came to their ears from up the lake, mingled with the muffled splash of oars. Someone was approaching camp in a rowboat; that was evident, though nothing could be seen. It was very dark now, the camp fire having almost entirely died away. True, the stars were out, and the boys could see their reflection in the waters of the lake, but beyond imagining that they could see a dark splotch on the surface of the water, they could make but nothing.
As the boys stood listening, the talking ceased, but every few seconds the soft splash of an oar, or the clank of an oar-lock came to them from the lake.
“Someone is trying to surprise us,” said Chot, in a low whisper, as the others gathered around him. “It may be the men whom we saw earlier in the evening. They may be figuring on holding us up.”
“Say, they wouldn’t get much,” whispered Pod.