“Not in sight,” murmured Tom, shading his eyes with his hand, for the rays of the setting sun struck across the surface. “Not a trace of her!”

“Let’s walk along the shore aways,” proposed Bert. “We may see them then.”

“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Jack. “I don’t believe I can go a step farther—not without a rest, anyhow.”

“Then rest,” said Tom. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You stay here, and we’ll go along the shore for a mile or so. If we don’t see ’em, then we’ll come back.”

“You may miss me,” suggested his chum.

“We can’t. We’ve got to follow the lake shore, and we can’t get beyond the river, anyhow.”

[134]

[134]

“I’ll stay with him,” volunteered Dick. “You and Bert go, Tom.”

Thus it was arranged, and Tom and his chum started off, following the winding shore of the lake, casting their eyes over its lonely surface for a sight of the boat they so much needed. It was an anxious search, and it was not rewarded with success.

“Well, we may as well go back,” suggested Tom, after a bit. “It will soon be too dark to see, and we want to be together when night comes on.”

“That’s right,” assented his companion. “What are we going to do next?”

“Search me,” replied Tom laconically. “We’ll have to rough it, I guess; make some sort of a bunk with tree branches. Or we may find a sort of cave to sleep in.”

“And what about supper?” asked Bert, suggestively.

“We’ll have to take in our belts a few holes, and make our hunger small, as the Indians do.”

They turned back, and soon rejoined Dick and Jack, who were moodily sitting on the shore. One look at the faces of Tom and Bert told the story of their unsuccessful search as plainly as words could have done.

“Well, what about it?” asked Jack. “What are we going to do, Tom?”

 Prev. P 80/132 next