The little Gadabout had been steadily drifting with the slowly moving current and in the dim light it was no longer possible to discern the outline of the shore which Fred and John had been seeking.
The feeling of uneasiness steadily increased.
“What do you suppose has happened to those boys?” inquired Grant of his friend.
“I don’t believe anything has happened to them,” replied George. “I think that’s just the trouble. They haven’t found the shore, or any one to help.”
“Well, then why don’t they come back?”
“I can’t tell you. You know as much about that as I do.”
“Well, I’m afraid they’re lost,” said Grant disconsolately.
“I don’t believe anything very serious can happen to them even if they have lost their way,” said George, striving to speak with an assurance he did not fully share. “Even if they stay out there until morning,” he continued, “they wouldn’t have anything to be afraid of. And then they would be able to find somebody that would pick them up and take them back to Mackinac. Very likely we’ll find them there when we get back ourselves.”
“But suppose a storm comes up,” suggested Grant.
“Well, don’t begin to worry until the wind begins to blow,” said George testily. The fear of the same event was in his own mind, but he resented the suggestion of his companion.