the cable by which she was moored to
the bank, and placing their spears against the bow, gave a vigorous
push. The current was strong at this point, sweeping from the inlet
along the head of the island toward the foot, and so out into the lake.
In a few moments the boat had drifted out of sight beyond the willows,
and was on its way to the outlet.

It had immediately floated away beyond recovery, before Halfway, who had
mounted the bridge to look out for Raft, saw that the boat was gone, and
raised the alarm. He stormed, swore, questioned, threatened. In the
meantime Ringster had quietly ascended one of the tallest bushes, and
was carefully surveying the lake.

"I see her!" he cried, pointing toward the outlet. "Yonder she drifts,
far beyond the foot of the island, and out of reach. The current is so
strong here that she has pulled up the stake or slipped her painter, and
the current has carried her away. It's bad business for us, but storming
won't mend matters. We must make the best of it and quietly wait for
Raft. If he fails us, we must set signals for some of our own ships." So
saying he got down from his perch and entered his tent, an example which
the rest were not slow to follow.

The Brownies set their faces homeward well satisfied with the results
of the scout, and anxious to reach camp before sunset. But their
adventures were not ended. As the party stealthily threaded the shore in
Indian file, Clearview, who was in the lead, suddenly halted and threw
up a hand in token of silence.

"Hist--softly! See there!"

He pointed to a gaily uniformed water Pixie stretched upon the ground a
little beyond them, sound asleep. The Brownie sailors lifted their
spears, and were about to hurl them at the prostrate form.

"Hold!" said True in an undertone, "we must capture this fellow. He may
be Raft himself. It is his uniform, at least; and if it be he, no
Brownie hand must harm him save in lawful battle. Let us move softly,
and at the signal surround and capture him." It was done as ordered, and
the sleeping waterman awoke to find himself in the hands of his enemies.

"Are you Raft Dolomede?" asked True.

"Well, what then, Sir?" answered the Pixie defiantly.

"Then your life shall be spared for a kindness done in an hour of great
need to those whom we love."

The captive cast a keen, inquiring glance into True's face; then
answered coolly, "Humph! that's a temptation to sail under false colors
that most of my k