“I guess we won’t have to go in this boat,” answered John. “Just now, the thing for us to do is to look around here and find out whether we are really Robinson Crusoes or there are some people living here who can give us some breakfast.”
“That’s all right,” said Fred, more cheerfully at the mention of the possibility of a morning meal. “You run up the shore in one direction and I will go down the other way. We’ll come back in about five or ten minutes and we’ll report.”
Fred’s suggestion was agreed to by his friend and the boys at once started along the banks which were only a few yards back from the shore.
More than the allotted time had passed when the two boys returned. Neither had been able to discover any tokens of the presence of people dwelling or camping on the island.
“It looks pretty dark,” said Fred more disconsolately.
“It’s easy to go back,” said John solemnly, “but it takes some nerve and grit to go ahead. I never yet knew a boat that drifted up the stream. If you leave it alone and don’t do anything it will go down stream every time.”
“You speak like a philosopher, as I told you,” said Fred. “I wonder sometimes how one small head can carry all you know.”
“And that’s not original either, I have heard that before. What’s that yonder?” he suddenly added.
At the question both boys turned and looked out over the waters of the lake. In the distance a tiny speck could be seen, but it was plainly moving toward the place where they were standing. The sun had risen by this time and the quiet waters of the lake were flooded with its beams.
“It’s a a motor-boat,” declared John after a brief silence.