When they reached the well-beaten trail he said, “Thanks a lot. I’ll be seeing you.”
“I’ll be seeing you,” she repeated. He went one way, she the other, into the night.
As he approached his own camp Jack saw no sign of life there. The fire had burned out. Nothing moved. All was silence and darkness.
“It’s like returning to an empty house at midnight,” he told himself.
Dark forebodings took possession of his mind. Had those original pilots of the jet plane told the others of their camp here on the island, and had the three Japs put an end to Stew’s carefree life?
“Stew!” he called softly. “Stew! Where are you?”
“Can’t have those fellows hearing me,” he murmured. “What’s happened to Stew?”
All of a sudden there came the clatter of boots on the rocks. Instantly he snapped out his light.
“That you, Stew?” he asked.
“Sure is,” came in a familiar voice. “I thought they got you for sure.”