Both boys ran swiftly on their return but when they arrived on the bluff once more they were doomed to disappointment. Not a boat was to be seen in the dim light. Nor was any light to be seen as they looked out over the waters. Somehow the darkness itself seemed to be startling.
“There isn’t any boat here and there isn’t any boat coming,” said Fred at last.
“What shall we do?” inquired John.
“There’s only one thing for us to do,” said Fred, “and that’s to go back to the house. We’ll have to explain to them why we haven’t left, and I don’t believe that woman, even if she didn’t want us to see her, will turn us out on a night like this. We’ll tell her that we’ll pay for our lodging and I guess she’ll let us in.”
Neither boy, however, was confident of his welcome when they once more retraced their way and started back toward the little house which now itself was wrapped in darkness. Not even the beams of the candle now could be seen shining through the kitchen windows.
CHAPTER IX
THE LOST SKIFF
Slowly the boys again crossed the familiar field. In their distraction the various objects assumed grotesque forms in the dim light. The swaying branch of a low tree seemed almost like the extended arm of a waiting man. Every sound that came from the waters startled them. The cry of the night birds was unusually weird and penetrating.
Neither of the boys was willing to acknowledge that he was afraid, but nevertheless they kept closely together and did not speak until once more they were standing before the kitchen door.
Both were startled when not far away they heard the sound of a deep growl. They had not seen any dogs about the premises in their previous visits and both were startled by the unexpected sound.
In their haste and alarm they both began to rap upon the door. The dog, still growling, did not advance upon them, but they could see the dim outline of his form as he stood near the corner of the house.