  “This is becoming pretty serious,” said Fred in a low voice when both he and John were convinced that they were not near the missing Gadabout. “You went too far to the right,” retorted John. “I thought you were going in the wrong direction.” “Well, why didn’t you say so, then?” “If I had, I would have been told my advice was good when it was asked for.” “Never mind, Jack,” said Fred, his friendliness returning and manifesting itself in the tones of his voice. “Things aren’t so bad, and they might be a good deal worse. I guess the Gadabout is off yonder,” he added, pointing to the East as he spoke. “I’ll row a while in that direction and we’ll try it again.” Seating himself at the oars Fred pulled in the direction he had suggested. When several minutes had elapsed, once more he ceased rowing and both boys united in a hail. Still there was no response made to their calls and the spirits of the boys drooped accordingly. “I tell you this is getting serious,” said Fred. “Are you afraid?” demanded John. “Some, and I don’t mind saying so. We never ought to have left the Gadabout.” “That may all be true,” responded John, “but we did leave the Gadabout and we are here on the lake. The only thing for us to do is to go ahead.” “That’s all right,” said Fred more cheerfully. “I haven’t forgotten our name, but I’m wondering whether we really are going ahead or not.” “What do you mean?” “Why, we may be rowing around in a circle, the way a man travels when he is lost in a woods.” “I guess it is not quite as bad as that,” responded John. “Want me to take the oars?” “Not yet,” said Fred sturdily, once more seating himself and resuming his task. A half-dozen times the boys rowed ahead and then stopping, united in a call to their friends. Their call, however, was unanswered and at last both boys were convinced that they had lost the location of the motor-boat. “There isn’t anything for us to do except to wait until morning,” said Fred at last. “Yes, there is, too,” said John. “You let me take those oars. I’m not going to stay here. I’m sure we’ll find the Gadabout or something just as good.” “That doesn’t trouble me as much as somebody finding us.” “What do you mean?” “Why, suppose some boat runs us down in the dark?” “We can hear a boat two miles away.” “If we are awake,” suggested Fred. “We’ll be awake all right, at least I shall, for I’m going to keep rowing.” “That wouldn’t be my plan,” said Fred, nevertheless relinquishing his position to his friend. “I think we are just as well off to wait where we are and when the sun rises we’ll know better what to do.” “I’m not much for waiting,” said John. “I’m going to see if I can’t find that boat.” Several times John ceased rowing and the boys united in calls and shouts and finally joined in a shrill whistle. Their efforts, however, were still unavailing and the conviction steadily deepened in their minds that they were lost on Lake Huron. “If we stay where we are,” suggested Fred at last, “we can get back to Mackinac Island in the morning.” “In which direction do you think Mackinac Island is?” demanded John. “It’s off yonder,” said Fred, pointing to his right. “You’re dead wrong, Fred. It’s right off here,” affirmed John, pointing as he spoke in the direction opposite to that which Fred had selected. “You’ll have to go around the world,” declared Fred, “before you get to Mackinac Island, if you follow the direction you suggest.” “Maybe we will, but I have got these oars and I’m going to try it,” declared John. Fred laughed derisively and did not make any offer to relieve his friend. John, however, apparently was determined to follow his plan and for a long time rowed steadily forward. At last Fred broke in upon the silence, saying, “I tell you, John, you’re simply taking us farther away from Mackinac Island all the time. Can’t you see that you are?” “I can’t see much of anything,” replied John, disconsolately. “I guess maybe I am wrong after all.” “Of course you’re wrong.” “But that doesn’t mean that you’re right,” retorted John. “If we go in the direction you suggest we may be as far as ever from the Gadabout.” “Not at all,” said Fred confidently. “You let me take those oars and you’ll soon see for yourself that I am right.” The exchange of places was made, but after Fred had rowed for an hour or more his confidence also began to wane. “I’m not as sure as I was,” he said. “Well, I’m just sure of one thing,” responded John. “What’s that?” “That we are lost and that neither one of us knows where he is. And what’s more,” he added, “the only thing for us to do is to stay right where we are and wait until the sun rises.” “How long will that be?” “I haven’t any idea. I haven’t any matches and I can’t see the face of my watch. If I can judge by my feelings it ought to be about the week after next. It seems to me we have been out here forever.” Fred did not respond, however, and for a time the boat drifted on in silence. “What’s that ahead?” demanded John, abruptly pointing as he spoke toward the bow. Instantly both boys were peering eagerly in the direction indicated by John, and, after a brief silence, Fred said, “That’s land ahead.” “That’s what I think,” said John. “What do you suppose it is? Do you think it is Mackinac Island?” “More likely it is Paris, France,” retorted Fred scornfully. “You don’t suppose we’re anywhere near Mackinac Island, do you?” “I don’t know. I know I wish we were.” “So do I, but we’re not. Now what shall we do? Shall we go ashore, or shall we keep out here on the lake?” “We had better go ashore,” said John. “At least we can row in near enough to see what it’s like, anyway.” Fred required no urging as he renewed his labors and not many minutes had passed before both boys were convinced that they were steadily drawing nearer to land. Whether it was the mainland or an island they were unable to determine at the time. “It’s all marsh along here,” declared John at last when the boat was not many yards distant from the shore. “I can see the rushes.” “That’s right, Jack,” acknowledged Fred a moment later after he too had peered intently at the nearby shore. “What shall we do?” “Why, keep on, and we’ll watch for lights too.” “You won’t see any lights this time of night,” retorted Fred. “If there is anybody willing to live in this forlorn spot he’s probably in bed four or five hours ago.” “Well, go ahead anyway,” said John. Accordingly Fred again grasped the oars and slowly rowed forward. For a long distance they were unable to discern anything but the marsh on their right. There was no place seen where they might make a landing nor was an attempt considered worth while. “I don’t see any use in this,” said Fred at last. “We aren’t getting anywhere.” “Try a little longer,” said John. “Maybe we’ll come to something different. There you have it!” he added a few minutes later when apparently they came to the end of the marsh and saw before them the dim outlines of a sloping bank. “We can land here, I guess.” “Land!” retorted Fred. “What do you want to land for?” “Why, maybe we can find a house or some place where we can get some gasoline.” “Gasoline will be a fine thing for us,” laughed Fred, his courage having returned with the knowledge that they were no longer on the open waters of the lake. “You’d better take the oars, Jack, and we’ll row on a little further. Even if we can see no light perhaps we can find a house.” Once more the boys exchanged places and John rowed slowly along the shore. Neither of the boys discovered any house, however, nor did they see any indications that the region was inhabited. “We’re having a fine time here,” Fred said at last. “There doesn’t seem to be anybody living here. We haven’t anything to eat and we haven’t even a gun or a fishing-rod in our skiff.” “We shan’t need any of them,” said John, “when the sun rises. We’ll be sure to find somebody who will take us back to Mackinac Island, or maybe the Gadabout will be looking for us.” “My namesake acted as if he liked to spend a good deal of time searching for us,” said Fred scornfully. “I tell you, Jack, he has other business on hand.” “Maybe we can take him back to the insane asylum and claim the reward,” suggested John. “Or to state prison.” “Yes, or he may be something else.” “What do you mean?” “It doesn’t make any difference what I mean. I have my own ideas and I’m not going to cast any pearls before swine. What I’m going to do now is to go ashore. The sun will be up in a half an hour. It’s beginning to be light in the east now.” “You’re right, John,” acknowledged Fred. “It surely is getting light over yonder. I don’t know what you’re going to gain by landing, but I’m willing to try it, if you want to. Be careful that you don’t strike a rock.” Hardly had Fred spoken before there was a dull thud and a moment later it was evident that the frail little skiff had struck the jagged point of a hidden rock. |
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