Norris and Robert were rowing. Intent on our discussion, they had forgotten caution, and were sending the boat forward at a rate. The night was quite dark in spite of the stars, and we might easily drive ourselves within hearing of Duran without realizing it. The night breeze rippled the bay, so that the canoe on the surface would not be visible till one should be almost on it.
"It's a mighty good thing," observed Robert, "that he doesn't make his trips in daylight. He couldn't help seeing that a good many besides himself have been tramping on that trail."
"He'd think a whole army was after him," said Ray.
When at last we came to the inlet, it was with some difficulty we found our way, so dark was it. It was Carlos who at last made out Duran's canoe, amongst the reeds.
"Well, he's got a good deal the start of us," said Norris, when at last we had got our boat in hiding and were ready for the trail.
"Perhaps it's just as well we're not too close," I offered, falling in behind Carlos, to whom we gave the lead.
"You don't believe he'd give us another chase in the schooner?" queried Robert.
"No," I admitted, "but he might pick a new trail, and throw us clear off again."
Single file, we moved forward. We were soon in the wood, where night birds and insects gave us their music. Out again in the glade; again into the forest. And at last, we came to where the trail dipped into the stream.
There was nothing to do but remake our camp in the old place, a little way to the west of the creek. There came renewed conjectures seeking solution of this mystery.