“Maybe I will,” agreed Tuckerman. “Well, mates, how about it? The invitation sounds very good to me.”
Tom and David both nodded and said they would like to go. “You’d better count me out of it,” said Ben. “I’ve got a date for to-morrow.”
“Date?” inquired Tom. “What sort of a date? With a lady or a man?”
“A date with myself.” Ben looked a trifle embarrassed. “I’ve got something on hand I meant to do in the morning.”
“Shucks!” exclaimed David. “All right, Bill, we’ll be over right after breakfast. And we’ll bring Benjie along. You might enter him in the fancy diving contest.”
Bill and Lanky pulled in their fishing-lines and embarked in their canoe. The campers started to get supper. But Ben, making an excuse that he thought he must have mislaid his pocket-knife in the house, hurried through the woods to the beach at the northern end. So far as he could see no one had been there since he had left in the morning; the chest was still in the crevice between the rocks.
That evening Ben prowled about the island. He went to Cotterell Hall, he went to the beach at the north again, he kept a watchful eye for sails in any quarter. When he came back to camp the other three had turned in. And being very sleepy, he followed their example.
He was up at dawn next morning, and again made his rounds. The paper he had placed on the lid of the secretary was apparently untouched, the chest was still in the crevice. Breakfast was waiting when he returned. “Now, Benjie,” said David, “get busy with the bacon. We’re going over to Camp Amoussock, and we want you to show those fellows your famous flip-flap.”
“You go along without me,” Ben urged.
“No, sir,” said David. “This is a sporting proposition, and it’s up to every man to do his bit.”