“Don’t you worry none,” he said cheerily. “Them boys will take care of themselves. It was a ca’m night and the only way those fellows could git into trouble would be by trying to run into it.”
“That’s what Fred may have done,” said George dryly. “If there’s anything of that kind around he usually finds it.”
“I guess you’ll find the boys all right,” affirmed the captain.
Striving to calm their fears the boys gazed out over the smooth waters. For two days now the surface of Lake Huron had been almost unruffled. Such gentle breezes as were blowing produced only the slightest ripple on the surface. In the clear waters, objects on the shore were reflected almost as in a mirror.
None of these things, however, was in the thoughts of the two boys as they watched the bluffs of Mackinac Island fade away in the distance.
They had done their utmost to describe to their captain the location in which they had left their friends the preceding night. That bluff individual had heartily declared that he understood just where the accident had occurred, but somehow his confidence was not fully shared by either of his passengers.
“He tries to make up for what he doesn’t know by stating with all his might the things he does know,” said George in a low voice to Grant when the boys had taken their seats near the stern of the boat.
“That’s what some people say,” answered Grant. “‘A lie well stuck to is as good as the truth.’”
“I don’t believe that,” said George.
“Don’t believe what?”