That was one thing he was to watch for—natives in dugouts and canoes. Who could tell what they might do? In a strange land one did well to keep close watch. He would keep an eye out for that light....
“Exploring our last frontier,” he whispered softly. He was in for something truly big again. Big, exciting, and dangerous! Well, that was the life. Life, action, thrills—and a touch of romance! Boy-oh-boy! That was the stuff!
But there was a gleam of light on the water! There could be no mistaking it. It was closer, too. What should he do? Call someone? After a moment’s thought he decided to wait. His flashlight would reach out a hundred feet or more. Time enough when those people, whoever they were, came within reach of his light. So, somewhat excited, Johnny waited by the gunwale, watching the bobbing of a tiny light—now here—now there—now gone—but ever coming nearer.
He waited, breathless, tense, expectant, watching for some craft. What would he see? Dark faces? Gleaming spears? Flashing machetes? Soon he would know.
When at last he cast the gleam of his powerful light on the spot where that golden glow had last shown, he gasped in astonishment.
“A girl!” he exclaimed, amazedly.
Yes, it was a girl. In a dugout patterned after a white man’s canoe, she came straight on, without a sound. Her boy’s shirt and blue slacks were faded, but clean. Her reddish-golden hair fairly gleamed in the light. She had a round, freckled face and smiling eyes.
As she came alongside, Johnny reached over, took her line and made it fast. Then he gripped her small, firm hand and helped her over the low rail.
“I—I had to come,” she breathed. “I—I’ve been watching you for days. What—” there was tense eagerness in her voice, “what is that big ball you let down into the sea?”
“That,” said Johnny, after bringing her a deck chair, “is for going down, down, down, to the bottom of the sea!”