Somehow no one suggested having supper ashore that night. There was
something chilling about the mysterious island that dampened the ardor
of the boys in this respect. Had it been anywhere else, they would have
looked upon the opportunity for having a jolly camp fire as too good to
be lost; but somehow all seemed satisfied that they remain aboard.
Josh for one was just as well pleased. He even neglected several golden
chances to give Nick those customary sly digs; and this was a most
unusual thing for Josh.
Nevertheless, even the proximity of a haunted island could not long hold
in check the natural bubbling spirits of a pack of healthy lads. After
supper, as they lay around in as comfortable attitudes as was possible,
some one started singing, and presently six voices took up the chorus,
so that a volume of sound welled up out of that cove calculated to
startle all the ghostly visitants that were ever known to gather there.
No one seemed to be sleepy; for even when the hour began to grow late
there was little talk of getting out the blankets. Stories were told,
jokes flew around, and taken in all they were a merry group, apparently
without a single care in the wide world.
George broke into this delightful harmony finally by saying:
"Now, I guess you fellows will tell me I'm hearing things that ain't so;
but, honest, I believe that was the chug-chug of a motor that came down
the wind. It was just as Nick was singing that funny song of his about
the Dutchman who didn't know his own name, because he and his twin
brother got mixed in the cradle, and the other fellow died. Did anybody
else get the sound, or are my ears the only sharp ones?"
"I thought I did," Jack spoke up; "but you see, Nick was leaning over
the side of his boat and sending his voice right at me, so I couldn't
make sure."
Herb also admitted that he had heard something, he couldn't say what.
"Now, don't laugh," George went on; "but it struck me I'd heard that
rackety chug before."
"Meaning the noisy engine of that stubby little boat the Ann Arbor
professor came in?" asked Jack, quietly.
"You hit it right at the first jump, Jack, for that was in my mind,"
George said.
"Well," remarked Nick, "don't you remember that he said he'd like to
spend one night with us here, in hopes of seeing our pet ghost. Perhaps
he's concluded to return and do it."
"Oh, rats;" exclaimed Josh, "We ain't going to see any more ghost.
What's the use of keeping that silly idea up? But I reckon all of us'd
like to see that gentleman again. He was good company, and he knows boys
from the ground up."
"He ought to, seeing that it's his business to be with boys and young
men all the time. I bet you he's a prime favorite at college," Nick
remarked; and then looked in surprise at Jack because the other actually
chuckled.
"I don't believe Jack takes much stock in Professor Marshland," said
George, who had also noticed this little demonstration.
"Oh; but you're very much mistaken there," the one indicated hastened to
say. "I admired him and hope some time to see more of him. I think we
shall before we leave the St. Lawrence cruising grounds."
George shook his head. He seemed to guess that there might be a hidden
meaning back of these words; but if so, it was beyond his capacity to
fathom it.
"But look here, if he's coming along, why don't we hear his old boat any
more?" Josh asked.
"That's so," declared George. "I wonder, now, if the engine could have
broken down."
At that everybody smiled, for in their Mississippi cruise it had been
George who was frequently in trouble through the inability of his motor
to stand the strain of great pressure. And consequently the subject was
usually one that was frequently on his mind.
"Oh! the chances are that he was just going past, and has gotten beyond
hearing. You know sometimes a flaw in the wind will carry a sound for a
mile or two," Jack remarked.
"That's so, on the water," George observed.
A little later, while the others were engaged in some wordy dispute,
Jack quietly slipped into the little tender attached to the _Tramp_ and
paddled softly off out of the cove.
"What d'ye suppose he's got on his mind?" asked George, looking after
the other.
"Give me something easy," replied Nick. "Jack always is a puzzle for me.
He has such bright thoughts I don't just seem able to grapple with 'em.
But depend on it, he's thinking of something right now."
"I guess he's worrying about those men," suggested Josh.
"Oh! I don't think so," George hastened to say. "They wouldn't dare try
attack us here, you know. It would be a breach of the law for which they
could be sent to prison for years. Jack's got some other notion in his
brain, believe me."
Meanwhile the object of all this speculation idly paddled a little
distance out on the moonlit water, and sat there in his small craft, as
though enjoying the silvery glow.
He looked around him on all sides, and particularly in that quarter of
the wind from whence had come the faint "chug-chug" of a motor's
eccentric pulsations. But nothing could be seen save the dim outlines of
the next island.
After a while, as a cloud covered the moon, Jack came back and clambered
aboard once more.
"Here, is this an all-night session of the club?" he asked. "Already
it's ten minutes after eleven. If you fellows want to get any sleep
tonight, better be turning in right now. Josh and myself have the first
two hour watch, you understand."
Accordingly there was a breaking up of the conference; goodnights were
exchanged, and those who had drawn the first spell of rest crept into
their comfortable blankets.
Of late their sleep had been somewhat broken, as we happen to know, what
with the coming of specters and such things. On this account every one
of the four soon dropped off asleep.
Jack could hear Jimmie breathing heavily in less than ten minutes.
Apparently Jack had something on his mind, for leaning over toward where
he could see Josh sitting he asked in a low tone:
"How is it there, Josh; is Herb asleep yet?"
"I guess he must be," came the answer; "because he's snoring to beat the
band, even if he don't make much noise."
"That's where you made a mistake, for it's Nick doing that. Listen
again, and you'll see I'm right. And George was yawning when he turned
in, so I reckon he's gone over the border, too."
"What do you want to know for?" asked Josh, aware that Jack must have
some reason for asking such a question.
"I'll tell you, Josh. I mean to go ashore soon," replied the skipper of
the _Tramp_.
"Thunder! do you really mean it, Jack?" queried Josh, taken aback; for
it would have to be something tremendous that could tempt him to set a
foot on that same island in the night time.
"Listen, Josh," Jack went on.
"I am, with all my ears, so go right on," the other sent back over the
few feet of water separating the two boats they occupied.
"I didn't say anything about it to the rest, Josh, but I think I saw a
gleam of that lantern ashore a while back. And I'd like to investigate a
little."
"Oh, my! you wouldn't catch me trying it," declared Josh, with an intake
of breath that told of suppressed excitement. "But will you take your
gun along?"
"Perhaps I'd better, though I don't really expect to use it," Jack
replied. "Because, you see, ghosts can't be reached with common lead
pellets. But I want you to help me Josh."
"Me? Oh! please don't ask me to go along, Jack. That lame foot of mine
has been hurting again like anything, and I'm that clumsy I might tumble
all over myself and give the thing away."
"Oh, shucks! I don't mean that," Jack replied. "But when that big cloud
sails over the moon I want to slip into my little dinky here, and paddle
quietly ashore. I'll hand you the rope I've got tied to the stern; and
when you feel that shake three times, pull the boat out again, and let
it float with yours. Understand?"
"Yes, yes. And I'll do it all right, never fear. If it wasn't for that
plagued lame foot, now, Jack."
"Let up on that, please. Now, look out, there she goes under."
Even as Jack spoke the moon said goodbye to the world for a short time,
and hid her smiling face behind a cloud that was darker than any that
had thus far sailed across the starry heavens on this particular night.
Being all ready, Jack crept into the small tender, gun in hand. He
pushed alongside the Wireless and managed to pass the end of a rope to
Josh, who was waiting to receive the same.
Gently the paddle was wielded, and the little "punkin-seed of a boat,"
as the boys sometimes termed the dinkies, was noiselessly wafted
shoreward. Landing, Jack shifted his person to the sand, and then gave
the requisite number of tugs at the rope, after which he shoved the boat
off.
He knew that Josh would attend to all that part of the business, and
gave it no further heed. Indeed, he had all he wanted to take care of in
following out the rather venturesome plan of campaign he had arranged.
For somehow Jack was of the opinion that the mystery of the island was
to be revealed to any one daring enough to go ashore and investigate,
which was just what he had determined to do.