Boy Scouts of the Air on Lost Island | Page 9

was a gleaming, flickering, ruddy light, and it came from the very
center of Lost Island!
Jerry's first thought was fright. But that soon gave way to the wildest of
conjectures. Suppose Tod had been in the boat. Suppose he had come
to in time, but too weak to do more than remain in the boat till it
grounded here on Lost Island. A waterproof match-safe easily
accounted for the fire. Jerry refused to allow himself to reason any
further. There might be a dozen reasons why Tod had not swum the
scant hundred yards to shore.
"Do you see it!" finally came a shout from the other side.
"It's a camp fire," called Jerry. "Do you suppose it could possibly
be----"
"It couldn't be Tod, could it!" came the answer, showing the same wild
hope that had surged through Jerry.

"Oh--_Tod!_" rang out from two trembly throats on both sides of the
river.
There was no reply. At least there came no answering shout. But the
next instant Jerry rubbed his eyes in bewilderment. The camp fire had
been blotted out as if by magic. Only the deep gloom of thick- set
willows lay before him.
"The fire's gone!" came in alarmed tones from Dave.
"_Tod--Oh, Tod!_" rang out once more through the still night air.
This time there was an answer, but not the one the boys expected. A
gruff voice demanded angrily:
"Say, you idiots--what in the thunder you want!"
"We're looking for a boy who was drowned up at----" began Jerry, who
was closest to the high point where a man was presently seen stalking
through the fringe of bushes.
"Boy who was drowned? Calling for him! Ye crazy loons!" interrupted
the man.
"We don't know whether he was drowned or not," answered Jerry hotly.
"Well I'll never tell you," was the surly response. With a disgusted
shrug of the shoulders the great hulk of a man slouched back toward the
center of the island, pausing just before he disappeared once more in
the wilderness to warn:
"Any more of that howling's going to bring a charge of buckshot, and I
don't care which of you I hit."
"Do you care if we come over and look along the shore of the island?"
shouted Dave at the retreating figure.
The answer, which was more like a growl than a human response, left
no doubt of the man's meaning. Neither boy felt the slightest desire to

swim across to Lost Island. Instead Jerry waved his arms over his head
and then pointed downstream.
So once more they trudged along, disheartened more than ever, for
somehow the actions of that weird figure on Lost Island had made their
search look more of a wild goose chase than ever. The island was soon
passed, but Jerry found himself peering hopelessly across a sluggish,
muddy-bottomed slough that promised many a weary minute of wading
before he could hope to establish communication with his companion
again.
So it was with a great feeling of relief that, once more on solid ground,
he heard Dave's call.
"Say, Jerry, we're pretty near down to Tomlinson's wagon bridge. What
you say that we hustle on down and meet halfway across--and wait
there for daylight. I'm about woozified."
"Good!" agreed Jerry, pleased that the suggestion had come from Dave.
"Even the thought of it rests my old legs till they feel like new. I'll just
race you to it!"
But it was a slow sort of race, for neither boy was willing to take a
chance in passing the most innocent shadow--which always turned out
to be a water-soaked log or a back-eddied swirl of foam. Nevertheless,
it was a spent Dave who sank gasping to the rough plank floor of the
middle span of the wagon bridge a scant second ahead of another
puffing boy.
A good ten minutes they lay there, breathing hard. Then both rose and
walked over to the edge and leaned heavily against the girders as they
looked gloomily down the river.
"Looks almost hopeless, doesn't it!" admitted Jerry, finally.
"Worst of it is we don't really know whether she's down below yet or if
we've passed it. She was riding pretty low."

"Wonder what that man was doing on Lost Island?" speculated Jerry,
crossing wearily to the north edge of the bridge and peering through the
gray dawn-mist toward the island, barely visible now. A mere twinkle
of light showed among the trees, and he stood there for a long minute.
Dave come to his side, and the two waited in silence for the dawn. Jerry
had almost fallen asleep standing up, when a sudden clutch at his arm
nearly overbalanced him and sent him tumbling off the dizzy height.
"Look!" gasped Dave.
"What is it?" exclaimed Jerry, turning to his companion,