rocket," sniffed Pete. "We saw your long legs
hanging down and thought that something must have pulled you out of the
boat."

"Something did," replied John dryly.

"What was it?" demanded Pete.

"The force of gravitation. I had all I could do to make this shore, let me
tell you. I had on sneakers and I put in my best work, for I wanted to get
on this side of the channel. At first I thought I was not going to make it
but I did at last and here I am."

"Are you hurt any?" asked Fred.

"Hurt? No. I'm as sound as I was when we started."

"You may be as sound," laughed Fred, relieved now by the assurance that
John was not injured, "but you're a woe-be-gone looking specimen. I think
even you would laugh, String, if you could see yourself. You're like the
definition of a line that Mr. Strong gave us in mathematics. You're the
shortest distance between two points, a length without breadth or
thickness."

"I've heard those words before," said John sharply. "I wish somebody could
get up something new if he wants to make remarks concerning my physique.
I'm not the one to blame if it doesn't suit you."

"Nobody blames you, Johnnie," laughed Fred. "We're just trying to face the
cold facts."

"That's what I'm trying to do too," said John demurely. "I had in my
pocket a copy we made, or at least what we thought was a copy, of the
records from old Simon Moultrie's diary and they are gone now."

"Are you sure?" asked Fred, startled by the unexpected statement.

"Yes, I'm sure," replied John, turning the pockets inside out as he spoke.
"I put them right in here," he explained as he placed his hand upon one
pocket.

"I guess there won't be a great deal of harm done," spoke up Pete. "It was
all done from memory anyway, at least that's what I understood you to
say."

"That's right, it was," said John, "but if you have a piece of paper in
your pocket, Fred let me have it and I'll write it out again. I'll do it
now. It will be easier and safer to fix it up before we start than it
will to let it all get dim in our minds."

Accordingly John took the diary which Fred handed him and tearing a leaf
from the back of it at once proceeded to draw from memory an outline of
the picture in Simon Moultrie's diary. To this he added the puzzling
directions which they had found indicated near the stake. "I think we're
all right," he said with satisfaction as he glanced at the drawing he had
made.

"There's one thing about it," said Pete