“I’ll dig into this whittling business,” he said, at last rousing himself. “There might be something in it. You never can tell.”
CHAPTER XVIII
DREAMING AT DAWN
After ten winks caught in the scout’s cozy cabin, Red Rodgers and Berley Todd were up before dawn.
“I don’t think much of the bush wolves as weather prophets,” Red said in a hoarse whisper. He was ever conscious that their lives were in danger. “What a morning! We must get a rowboat and be away for Passage Island.”
“In the light of day?” The girl pressed his arm hard. “They’d see us. Then all would be at an end. But no, perhaps not. There are islands, small islands all in a row that lie half a mile off this main shore. Once behind those, we would be hidden.”
“Let’s have a look. Which way is the shore?”
“Over this way.” The girl led him down a path that, circling a clump of bushes, led them past a group of buildings that loomed large in the blue-gray dawn.
They passed through tall grass drenched with dew, to climb at last a pile of rocks and finally reach a great boulder that overlooked the water.
In this moment of hushed silence just before dawn, the water was like glass, smooth white glass.
“What could be sweeter? We must find a boat at once.” Red turned his eyes upon the girl.