THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT.

When they ventured again to look toward the island the white figures had disappeared; but presently they heard, for the fourth time, the blood-chilling howling of the dog, which ended in a sinking, quavering wail that, to their overwrought imagination, resembled a dying moan of agony.

Not until they were approaching the camp and the cheerful fire which gleamed welcomingly across the water did they exchange further words. The firelight shone on the snowy tent, and they could see their friends moving about. Then it was that Piper dogmatically asserted:

“There are no such things as ghosts.”

“Perhaps that’s so,” admitted Sile, with a touch of resentment; “but I’d certainly like to know what it was we heard and saw.”

“Think we’d better say anything about it?”

“If yeou’ve got the idee that I ain’t goin’ to tell the other fellers, there’s another guess comin’ to yeou.”

“They’ll chaff us.”

“I don’t give a hoot for that. I’m goin’ to tell ’em the plain, straight truth, and they can chaff as much as they please.”

One of the boys came out to the extremity of the point, cupped his hands to his mouth and sent a halloo across the water. His figure made a black silhouette against the firelight.

“That’s Grant,” said Crane. “They’re gettin’ nervous abaout us. Oh! ho! Here we are! We’re comin’!”

“Well, it’s time you were,” flung back the Texan. “Hike along some.”

Grant and Springer met them as the prow of the canoe grounded on the sandy beach.

“Wha-what luck?” asked Phil.

“I got one,” answered Sile.

“Only one? Well, what the dickens kept you so long?”

“Only one,” returned the successful angler defiantly; “but yeou wait till yeou see him. He’s a baby. Come on to the fire and look him over. We’ve got a heap to tell ye, too.”

Silently Piper followed them to the fire, where Crane proudly displayed his catch, swelling with importance as he listened to the admiring comments of the three lads who had remained behind.

“What did you get, Sleuth?” asked Stone, after stooping to turn a big brown loaf of frying pan bread, which had been placed on edge and propped up before a glowing bed of coals.

“Nothing,” answered Piper, who had flung himself wearily upon the ground. “We only had one strike all the time we were out, and it was just Crane’s luck to get that and land his fish.”

“I’m sus-surprised,” said Springer. “Why, I thought you——”

“Now cut that out!” snapped Piper sharply. “Can it! If there are no fish to be caught, how is anyone going to catch them?”

“There must be plenty of fish in the lake,” said Grant.

“Oh, yes, likely there is,” returned the disgruntled angler; “but they weren’t swarming around us. It was after sunset when Crane hooked that one, and it was pretty near pitch dark before we dipped him. No time to fish after that.”

“Alas! it’s true,” sighed Springer—“it’s true that the finny denizens of the water take to dry land when they learn that Pipe is after them.”

“Think up something original and new,” advised Sleuth. “You’ve worn that gag out.”

“Anyway,” said Ben pacifyingly, “if we don’t get any more, this big fellow should provide a bite for us all. You didn’t return skunked, fellows; you had some excitement.”

“Excitement!” said Crane, eager to tell of their remarkable experience. “I should say we did! Didn’t yeou fellers hear a dog howlin’ in the direction of Spirit Island a while ago?”

“In the direction of Spirit Island?” said Grant quickly. “Yes, we heard it, but we reckoned the creature was over on the opposite shore.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” asserted Sile; “it was right aout there on that island. Guess we know, for we was nigh enough to jump ashore.”

“On the island!” cried the boys who had remained at the camp, looking at one another questioningly.

“Are you sus-sure, Sile?” asked Springer.

“Yeou bet I be. Sleuth knows. Ask him.”

Piper nodded. “There’s no doubt about it,” he declared solemnly.

“That wasn’t all, either,” added Crane. “We saw something.”

While they listened in wonderment, he told of the two white figures resembling a dog and a man.

“Oh, say, what do you tut-take us for?” snapped Phil. “You and Sleuth have been fuf-faking up a fine story, haven’t you?”

“I told you, Crane,” said Piper, with a shake of his head—“I told you they wouldn’t believe it.”

“Don’t care whether they do or not. It’s the straight goods, by jinks! We was goin’ to land on that island for a minute when we fust heard that critter howl, but afterwards Sleuthy didn’t have no stomach for landin’. Scat! Say, his teeth rattled jest like dice in a box.”

“Now,” flung back Piper in hot resentment, “I knew you’d say that, and you were the one that was scared in the first place.”

“If your story is true,” said Grant, “I opine you were both some disturbed; and this adds interest to the yarn of the fanciful Mr. Granger. What do you think about that now, Sleuth?”

“Piffle,” pronounced Piper. “Anyone knows there are no such things as spooks.”

“Then what did you see on the island?”

“We saw two white things that resembled a dog and a man. What they were I’m not ready to assert at this time.”

“Whatever they were,” said Rodney, “I’m for visiting Spirit Island tomorrow.”

The boys had plenty to talk about all through supper, at which Piper and Crane demonstrated that their unusual experience had not dulled the edge of their appetites.

After supper Crane cleaned the salmon, and for a time they sat around chatting in the soft, warm darkness. Of them all, Piper was the only one who seemed moody and thoughtful, ignoring the efforts of the others to rally him.

Finally, growing drowsy, Grant rose, yawned and stretched his arms above his head, announcing that he intended to turn in. Suddenly his arms came down with a snap and he leaned forward a little, staring out upon the lake.

“Look here, fellows,” he said, a touch of suppressed excitement in his voice, “what’s this? Tell me what you see away yonder in the direction of Spirit Island?” He had lifted his arm and was pointing.

They sprang to his side and stood in a group, staring over the placid, night-shrouded waters of Phantom Lake, every one of them feeling his nerves tingle and thrill.

“It’s a lul-light!” cried Springer. “See it? There it is!”

“A light,” echoed Piper, “and it’s on Spirit Island! There, it’s gone!”

They had all seen the light, which seemed to stare at them like a huge fiery eye that suddenly winked and vanished. Breathless and in dead silence, they waited, and in a moment or two the glaring eye shone forth again for a twinkling and vanished. A dozen times this was repeated before the light disappeared and was seen no more, although they continued to watch for it for a full half hour.

“Well,” said Piper at last, “perhaps you’ll believe what we told you, now.”

“A howling dog, ghostly figures and a mysterious vanishing light,” muttered the Texan. “This sure is all very fine and interesting. Yes, fellows, we’ll visit that island tomorrow.”

Presently, when they went to bed and tried to sleep, Piper was not the most restless one among them. On the previous night, after disposing of the sleeping bag, he had rolled and groaned while his companions snoozed comfortably and serenely, but now he heard first one and then another stirring on the bough beds, and it was a long time before the breathing of any boy indicated that he had succeeded in cajoling slumber. Even after he was asleep Crane tossed and muttered incoherently. Piper was just drifting off when Sile uttered a sudden yell, which was followed by a tremendous commotion.

“I’ve got ye!” cried Crane wildly. “I’ve got ye!”

“Lemme go! Take your hooks off my windpipe!” wheezed the voice of Springer. “Help, fellows! Sile has gone loony! He’s ch-choking me!”

In the darkness there was a scramble to separate the struggling bed-fellows, and, with remarkable forethought, Piper, keeping away from the mix-up, struck a match and lighted the lantern. The light revealed Grant clutching Crane and struggling to hold him, while Stone had a grip on Springer. The latter was protesting.

“Let up!” he entreated. “I’m not dud-doing anything; it was Sile. He gave a yell right in my ear that near sus-split the drum, and then he straddled me and began shutting my wind off.”

Crane seemed a bit dazed. “I’m all right naow,” he protested in evident shame. “I guess I was dreaming. Confaound them things on Spirit Island, anyhaow!”

Piper leered at his late angling companion. “You’re a brave one!” he scoffed. “You wanted to land on the island, didn’t you? You wasn’t a bit afraid, were you?”

“Shut up,” growled Crane. “Put that lantern aout, and we’ll go to sleep.”

“Oh, yes, we’ll have a nice time going to sleep, with you cutting up. I was just snoozing beautifully when you yelled like a wild Indian.”

After a time the boys quieted down again, and, with the lantern extinguished, they fell asleep, one by one, until only Sleuth, still resentful because he had been awakened, was denied the relaxation of slumber. A long time he lay seeking it, with the others breathing heavily and regularly, and some of them snoring. Once more his ears were acute to all the mysterious night sounds of the woods, and, though he succeeded in dozing a little, he awoke again and again, until it seemed that the night had stretched itself to the length of a year and morning had somehow become side-tracked.

At last in a period of wakefulness he was possessed by a great desire to take another look toward Spirit Island, and, making as little noise as possible, he crept out of his blankets and stole to the front of the tent, which had been left open to admit air.

The moon, rising in the east, shed a pale light upon the bosom of the lake. By this light he could see the distant mountains outlined against the sky, and it was not impossible, even, to perceive a dark spot in the midst of the lake, where lay the haunted island. There it was, black and silent and soundless, with no mystic light flashing from its shores and no howling dog to disturb the serenity of the tranquil night. Nevertheless, there seemed to be something eerie and awesome pervading the very atmosphere and made doubly acute by the absence of any unusual sight or sound.

“If it isn’t really haunted,” whispered Sleuth to himself, “it ought to be. A commonplace solution of the mystery would be a great disappointment to me.”

Then he returned to his bed and once more besought sleep.