CHAPTER XVII.

  IN WHICH ERNEST FINDS THERE IS TREASON IN THE CAMP.

  What had become of the boats? I was a commodore without a squadron,and I felt so cheap that I would have sold out my commission forsixpence, and thrown myself in. The boats had been carefully secured,under my own direction, in the little inlet, and they could not havedrifted away, I looked at Bob Hale, and Bob Hale looked at me; butneither of us could explain the disappearance of the fleet.

  "An enemy hath done this," I began, in Scripture phrase.

  "Of course it couldn't have been done by a friend," added Tom Rush."It's lucky we have a good stock of provisions on hand."

  "But the stock won't last forever," suggested Bob.

  "We are not going to be starved out in a week, or a year, for thatmatter," I interposed. "We are not to be broken up by any suchaccident as this."

  "The commodore is spunky," laughed Bob, who was always good-natured,whatever happened.

  "I am not to be put down by any such expedient as this taking away theboats. When I want to visit the main shore, I shall do so, boat or noboat," I replied; for I already saw how I could counteract themisfortune of the loss of our squadron.

  "Parasyte has snuffed us out, I suppose, and sent a party up here inthe night to take the boats," continued Bob Hale. "He means to starveus out."

  "He will discover his mistake. But let us take a look round theisland; perhaps we may find out what has become of the boats;" and Iled the way to the nearest point, at which a sentinel had beenstationed.

  The student on watch there knew nothing of the absence of the boats.There had been no alarm given at the guard tent. We walked around theisland without obtaining any information of the lost squadron. Wereported the mishap to Vallington, who was both surprised andindignant.

  The occupants of the guard tent were all turned out, and those who hadbeen on watch during the night were examined; but none of them knewanything about the boats. They had not heard any noise during thenight, or seen anything on the lake. The general then mustered thecompany, and after stating what had occurred, called for anyinformation; but no one had any to give.

  "Where is Bill Poodles?" suddenly demanded Bob Hale, as he glancedaround among the students.

  "He is not here," replied Tom Rush, after he had scrutinized all thefaces.

  "And Dick Pearl?"

  "Not here."

  "Is any of the party that came off that night present?" demanded thegeneral.

  "No," answered several, after each fellow had looked his neighbor fullin the face.

  "That's what's the matter!" exclaimed Bob Hale. "Bill Poodles and therest of them have run away with the boats; and in my opinion that'swhat they joined us for."

  A further examination convinced all present that this was the fact. Itlooked as though Mr. Parasyte had sent off the ten boys who joined uson the first night, to rob us of the boats. We remembered the dismaywith which Pearl and Poodles had listened to the announcement of ourintended removal from Cleaver Island, and were fully confirmed in ourview of the traitors' purpose.

  We found that the conspirators had all occupied the same tent, and oneof the fellows who slept with them now remembered that he had halfwaked up, and heard Dick Pearl talking in a low tone to some one.Vallington called up the sentinels again, and spoke pretty sharply tothem of their neglect of duty.

  "It would have been impossible for them to carry off the boats if youhad been awake; and now you have got us into a pretty scrape. We shallhave to back out, and march back to the Institute like whippedpuppies," said he, with becoming indignation.

  But the sentinels protested that they had kept awake all the time.

  "Tell that to a dead mule, and he would kick your brains out," repliedthe general. "Who stood at the south station?"

  "I did from ten till twelve," answered Joe Slivers; "and I am sure noboat went out of the cove during that time."

  "And who from twelve till two?" continued the general.

  No one answered.

  "Who was it--don't you know?" demanded Vallington, sternly.

  "I know," replied Ben Lyons. "It was Carl Dorner, for I had the northstation at the same time."

  "Carl Dorner!" exclaimed Bob Hale. "He was one of the Poodles party."

  "That accounts for it," added Vallington. "Who had the east stationfrom twelve till two?"

  "Mat Murray," replied Slivers.

  "He's another of the Poodles tribe," added Bob. "It's as clear as mudnow. We put traitors on guard, and we are sold out."

  "Ben Lyons, you had the north station from twelve till two," continuedthe general.

  "I did; but I was nearly half a mile from the cove," replied thesentinel.

  "And Carl Dorner and Mat Murray had the east and south stations at thesame time."

  "They did."

  "Who called the fellows that were to relieve you?"

  "I did," answered Lyons.

  "Didn't you miss Dorner and Murray?"

  "I didn't notice them; but I did see the three fellows who went onguard at two o'clock. They started for their stations, and I turnedin, without thinking anything about Dorner and Murray."

  It further appeared that the two traitors had used some "shuffling" toobtain the east and south stations. It was evident now that theconspirators had executed their plan shortly after midnight, whiletheir associates were on guard at the two posts where their operationscould be seen or heard. The south station was on a point of land whichcommanded a full view of the cove where the boats lay. From the eaststation the lake in the direction of Parkville and Cannondale could beseen. From the north station, which was considerably farther westthan either of the other posts, nothing could be seen on the southside of the island.

  If the conspirators had gone to the eastward with the boats, theycould easily have kept out of sight of the sentinel at the northstation--the only true one on duty when the mischief was done--byhugging the main south shore of the lake. If they had gone to thewestward, or farther away from Parkville,--which was not likely,--theycould not have been seen by Ben Lyons till they had gone at least amile.

  In the mud at the bottom of the cove we found a pole sticking up,which the traitors had probably used in pushing the scow out into thelake. This showed us in what manner they had gone to work; but I wassatisfied that they had not attempted to tow the scow any distance; itwould not have been possible for them to do so. It was comparativelyeasy to move her with setting-poles, but they could have done nothingwith the unwieldy craft in the deep water. I therefore concluded thatthey had merely pushed her out into the lake, and then turned heradrift. It was probable that she had been driven ashore by thenorth-west wind somewhere in the vicinity of Cannondale.

  What the conspirators had done with the Splash was not so clear to me,for not one of them knew anything about the management of a sail-boat.She had a pair of oars on board, and it was probable they had rowedher, as they had the other boats. All the sentinels agreed in theirstatements that the wind had blown pretty fresh in the night, and Iwas not quite willing to believe that the ten faithless ones hadpulled the four boats the whole distance to Parkville, which was ninemiles, in the heavy sea that must have been caused by a brisknorth-west wind. They were not boatmen enough to undertake such a job,or to carry it through if they did attempt it.

  Cannondale lay to the south-east of Pine Island, and with theprevailing wind of the night, it was an easy matter to accomplish thetwo miles which lay between them. After a great deal of thinking,reasoning, and studying, I came to the conclusion that the Splash,and perhaps two or three of the four row-boats,--for the conspiratorshad added one to our original number,--were not farther off thanCannondale. The wind was still fresh from the north-west, and thetraitors would hardly care to pull even a single boat eight miles. Thesteamer, on her way to Parkville, would touch at Cannondale about oneo'clock, and I surmised that the deserters would return in her.

  I made up my mind, in view of these facts and suppositions, that itwould be advisable
for some of our party to visit Cannondale beforeone o'clock. Pine Island had sometimes been used as a picnic ground,and the people had been conveyed thither in a steamer. Near the southstation, in the deepest water, there was a rude pier of logs builtout, for the convenience of landing the parties. This loose structuresuggested to me the means of reaching the main shore; and, withoutwaiting for breakfast, I "piped" away my boatmen, and proceeded tobuild a raft.

  Placing three large logs in the water, we lashed them together, andcovered them with short pieces of board, from the ruins of an oldcook-house on the island. The job was finished when breakfast wasready, about seven o'clock, including a mast and sail, the latter madeof the curtain of a tent. The preparations I had been making had awonderful effect in warming up the spirits of the boys, considerablydepressed by the prospective calamities which were supposed to lie inthe wake of the loss of our boats; and at least three quarters of themapplied to me for permission to join my expedition to the main shore.I determined, however, to take but four with me, among whom were BobHale and Tom Rush.

  As soon as we had eaten a hearty breakfast, we embarked, and hoistedthe sail on our clumsy craft. When she had passed out of the cove, shetook the breeze, and went off at a very satisfactory pace towardsCannondale, plunging and rolling in the heavy sea like a ship in agale. With us as navigators, "the die was cast," for it would beimpossible to return to the island unless the wind changed, for theraft would only go before it.

  The craft dived down and jumped up, and every wave swept completelyover it; but we had taken off our shoes and stockings, and rolled upour trousers' legs, so that we suffered no inconvenience. The freshbreeze carried us over in about half an hour, and the raft was thrownhigh and dry on the beach, a quarter of a mile below the town.