"Well, here we go," said Havens, briefly.
"Pile in," added Bob, as he sprang on board the "Dart."
"By Jove, it certainly looks wild out there," declared Sam Randall, indicating the sombre expanse of lake.
"Enough to make a fellow feel kind of creepy, eh?" chimed in Tom. "The wind is freshening, too."
"Don't get scared," said Havens, calmly. "Let me run up a couple of these 'electric lights,' and we'll get under way with a rush."
Several lanterns were fastened in position, then the skipper, aided by Howard Fenton, started to shove off. Clumsy and heavily laden, the boat resisted their efforts for a moment, then swung out suddenly into the gurgling water, at the same instant giving a lurch which was far from reassuring.
The sail was hoisted and the "Dart" instantly responded by plunging her nose deeply in the water, white showers of spray were sent flying in all directions.
Dave Brandon was presently heard to murmur, "H'm—that last one hit the only dry spot left."
In the dim light, the crags of Promontory Island looked gigantic and the dark line of firs on Hemlock blended mysteriously into the distance.
"I 'most wish we hadn't come," declared Tom Clifton, nervously. "Wow! I thought she was going over that time sure."