nd
presently stopped outside the Bank-end Cottage. All was dark and
nobody moved when Jim beat on the door.

"Shanks is sleeping pretty sound if that doesn't waken him," he said.
"Bring the net-beam. We'll break in."

Jake picked up a thick wooden bar, and when the door gave way they
plunged into the kitchen and Jim struck a match. The house was
horribly dirty, and old clothes, empty cartridges, brass snares, and
fishing lines lay about, as if Shanks had hurriedly sorted his
belongings and left those he did not want. They found nobody when they
went upstairs.

"Lance has been here before us," Jim remarked. "The curious thing is,
Shanks had two big duck-guns and has moved some truck although he
couldn't get a cart."

"He had his shooting punt and the tide hasn't left the creek yet," said
Jake, and they ran across the marsh.

When they stopped at a muddy pool the punt had gone, but there were
fresh footmarks on the bank; and Jim set off again.

"The creek winds and he must shove her across the mud in places," he
said. "My punt's on the sands. If we are quick, we might head him
off."

They stumbled among reeds and rushes, and fell into pools, and were wet
when they reached a hollow at the edge of the sands. The bank was
steep, but the tide had not left the channel, and Jim, plunging in,
pulled up the punt's anchor. Then he stood on deck, using the pole,
while Jake paddled. The tide was running out and they drove the punt
furiously past belts of mud and sandy shoals, but the bank was high and
they could not see across. Shanks, however, was not in front; Jim
imagined he had come down another gutter that joined the channel
farther on. They must try to get there first.

"Keep it up!" he shouted, as he bent over the pole. "In five minutes
we'll be round the bend and can see the bay."

Jake braced himself for an effort and the water foamed about the punt's
low bow. Floating weed and scum sped past; the bank was dropping to
the level of the flats and its wet slope sparkled in the moonlight.
Jake saw the sandy point that marked the bend and resolved to hold out
until they reached the spot.

They shot round the bend, and Jim threw down his pole. In front lay a
broad expanse of sand, broken by belts of shining water. A flock of
oyster-catchers, screaming noisily, circled about the foreground; but
this was all.

"Shove her in!" Jim shouted. "I reckon Shanks hasn't made the meeting
of the channels. We