“Swim for the landing,” instructed Dan, “and don’t make any noise. We’ll see what that light is before we get very near.”
Then they struck out, swimming slowly and silently, Dan and Tom abreast and Nelson a length behind. The water was warm and felt grateful to their chilled bodies; although the days were warm the nights were getting cool. It was very good fun, this stealthy progress through the dark water with only the white stars to see. Nelson experienced an exhilarating sensation of excitement as they drew near the shadowy island; he felt like a conspirator, indeed, and one on a desperate mission. To be sure, the danger of being caught was very slight, he supposed, but there was enough of it to lend spice to the venture. The distance from shore to island was well under a quarter of a mile, but at the slow speed they went it was almost ten minutes before Dan called a halt a hundred feet from the landing. Nelson swam up to the other two boys, and they remained quiet for a moment, looking and listening. There was no sound to be heard, but an orange glow slightly above the level of the float puzzled them. Finally Tom was sent forward to reconnoiter. Presently he was back again.
“It’s the Chi-chi-chi--” he sputtered excitedly.
“Cut it out,” whispered Dan. “Say it quick without thinking.”
“Steam-engine,” suggested Nelson _sotto voce_.
“Chi-chi-Chicora!” blurted Tom finally in a hoarse whisper.
“What?” asked Dan. “The Chicora? Then, Clint’s there visiting Doctor Powers. Wonder who’s with him?”
“I think Thorpe went along in the launch,” said Nelson.
“Lu-lu-let’s go back,” suggested Tom uneasily.
“What for? It’s better to have Clint here than at camp, I think,” said Dan. “Come on. Did you hear any one, Tommy?”
“No, but I could see a light in the main house.”
“That’s it, then; Clint and Thorpe are paying a call on Powers, probably about the water sports. Shall we go on? What do you say?”
“Yes,” answered Nelson. “Let’s do what we started to do.”
So ahead they went, and in a minute were pulling themselves up onto the float. Beside it lay the steam-launch, her engine sizzling gently. The light they had seen came from the lantern which hung by the steam-gage. Softly they crept up the gangway to the pier above and there listened. The main building of Camp Wickasaw, a rather elaborate cottage, stood about two hundred feet away. Light shone from the door and from the window to the right of it. Both were open, and the boys thought at times they could hear the hum of voices. But they couldn’t be certain, for Tom’s teeth were chattering loudly and they were all shivering so they could scarcely keep still. But no one was in sight, and so they hurried to the end of the pier and Dan mounted the railing. The flagpole, a small affair, was secured to the floor of the pier and to a post of the railing, and on it, barely visible in the darkness, hung the obnoxious white flag. Unfortunately, it was two feet out of Dan’s reach.