Even drawing but a few inches, the canoe several times
touched sand bars over which it glided. Frank did not know the channel,
and he had to trust to luck. But, as he went on he noticed that the
stream was becoming wider and deeper, and he had no fear but that he
might continue on for many miles.
"If only it goes in the right direction," he murmured. "It may be an
altogether different creek than this which flows past the cliff. If it is
I've had all my trouble for nothing. I want to get back before the boys
wake up, if I can."
On and on he went. The moon threw fantastic shadows through the trees to
the surface of the stream. Now the boat would glide along in the
darkness, caused by the overhanging branches, and again it would forge
ahead into a bright patch of silvery light.
"I wonder if the telephone line is anywhere in this locality," Frank
mused, after he had paddled for an hour or more. "If I could get a
glimpse of that I would be reasonably certain I was going in the right
direction."
He glanced overhead several times, but could catch no sight of the wire.
Now the boat was going at a more rapid rate as the current was swifter.
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