leaving a
wake that set the boats anchored near the shore to rocking.

At Rick's suggestion, Scotty throttled down as they swept along the
edge of the marsh. The noise of the wide-open engine might be heard at
Creek House and arouse suspicion. Then, as Smugglers' Light neared and
they knew they were getting close, Scotty throttled down still more.
Rick unlashed the pair of oars from their position along the gunwale
and got them ready. It was fully dark now and difficult to see,
although the moon was rising.

Scotty leaned over and cut the ignition. "Don't dare to use the engine
any nearer than this," he said, his voice low.

Rick saw that they were perilously near the creek mouth. He turned to
look at the incoming trawlers and saw the nearest one almost abeam of
them a quarter mile out. "Watch for that inlet," he whispered. "And
let's get into the next seat back. The windshield will interfere if we
try to paddle from here." He hadn't rigged the oarlocks, knowing they
would be unable to row in the narrow inlet. They would have to use
the oars as paddles.

They climbed over the seat back and each took an oar, kneeling like
canoeists. Rick was on the inland side, and he saw the inlet mouth
first. "Here," he whispered, and backed water with his oar. The bow of
the boat swung around.

Rushes and marsh grass scraped past them. The lights of Creek House
were still invisible. Rick strained his eyes to see; it was almost
inky black in the tall rushes. Then Scotty reached out and felt with
his oar.

"Left turn," he whispered. He had found the inlet branch that led
toward the hotel. Now he backed water, trying not to splash, while
Rick poled ahead. The boat swung into the narrow channel, reeds
touching it on both sides and making a hissing noise as they
progressed.

"Only a few feet of water," Rick said softly. "And mud at the bottom."
Each time he lifted his oar he felt the weight of a ball of muck on
the end.

The boat slid gently to a stop. Both boys put their weight on the
oars, but it moved only two feet ahead then stopped once more. They
put their heads together and discussed it in a low whisper because
they were near the creek.

"We're aground," Scotty said.

"Guess we get out and walk," Rick returned. "Better take our shoes and
socks off. It will be muddy."

"We'll be lucky if we don't sink in up to our necks."

Scotty took his arm suddenly. Rick started to ask what was the matter,
then he heard it, too.