e edge of the pebbles. And as he raised his bare foot to
step forward again the moon broke forth from the broken clouds and he
stopped short, stifling the cry that sprang to his lips. In the sudden
flood of dim light the edge of the stream seemed fairly alive with
boats, while right in front of him, so near that another step would have
reached him, a dark figure was kneeling in his path.

CHAPTER XX

ROY VISITS HAMMOND

Roy's first impulse was to summon assistance, to rouse the camp; his
next, to avoid detection. For the beach was empty of boats; every one of
the five, the four steel rowboats and Chub's canoe, had been lifted into
the water and manned by the marauders, and by the time the fellows
reached the scene they would be far out into the river. All this Roy
sensed in far shorter time than it has taken to tell it. Scarcely a
moment had passed since the moonlight had revealed the stooping figure
in front of him. Roy still stood poised for that forward step. The form
at his feet resolved itself into a boy with a woolen sweater and a cloth
cap. He had laid a piece of paper on the beach and was piling pebbles
upon it. Had he glanced up quickly he could not have failed to see Roy,
even though the latter stood in partial shadow. Roy held his breath and
waited. In the boats the dark forms of the invaders were motionless,
startled doubtless by the sudden advent of the moonlight. Then the boy
at Roy's feet straightened himself up with a little laugh, and, without
glancing back, crept down the beach toward the boats. And as suddenly as
it had come the moon went, and once more the darkness enveloped
everything. Roy took a deep breath and, with pulses leaping, crept
silently after the other. The moon had played into his hands.

He kept to the right, heading toward the last of the boats as he
remembered its location. The Hammond boy had gone straight down the
beach and Roy had no desire to overtake him. In a moment his feet were
in the water, splashing softly. Vague forms came and went in the
darkness and his hands groped toward them. It is probable, however, that
he would have waded straight into the middle of the stream had not a low
voice hailed him.

"Here you are, Jim, get in here!"

Roy turned toward the voice, stumbled over a sunken stone and collided
with the side of a rowboat.

"Don't make so much noise, you plunger!" said the voice. "Give me your
hand."

Roy gave it and was promptly hauled over the