“We’ll pull out about five, roll up and get in line, step on the gas, and make Baltimore in time for breakfast. After that, let John try to find us.”
Joe got a bite and missed his fish. So these two men, whoever they were, planned to play hide and seek with somebody named John. But his mind, presently, came back to the shabby car with the powerful motor that had hidden itself twice in the cobbled road behind the cottonwoods where it could not be seen from Main street.
“What do you think that car was doing there, Uncle David?” the boy asked.
“If I knew,” Dr. Stone said dryly, “I’d be able to give more attention to this fishing-line.”
A tingling tremor ran along the boy’s spine. So Uncle David thought that strange car worth worrying about! Lady moved in the boat, and the flat-bottomed craft pitched and wobbled. The fish weren’t biting, and the dog was probably cramped. The boy pulled up the anchor. A steady, rhythmic splashing came through the night.
“They’re rowing back,” Dr. Stone said.
Joe’s oars made scarcely a ripple. Tied up at the planking, he shipped the oars before helping his uncle from the boat. “No fish and a million mosquito bites,” the doctor drawled, and they went up the soggy path through the reeds. Oars rattled behind them and somebody stamped on the planking. A car was parked in the high grass above the rutted road that paralleled the lake; even in the darkness there was a lustrous sheen of paint and of shining metal. One of Lady’s harness straps had loosened. The doctor bent down to draw it tight, and footsteps came up the planking.
“Rog!” The sharp voice snapped. “There’s somebody at the car.”
“Don’t move!” The genial voice was all at once icy and deadly. “If you’ve been monkeying——”
Joe shivered. Lady, as though recognizing the threat in that voice, had become stiff and taut. The boy’s hand, feeling for her, met the bristling hairs along her spine.