all clearly.
They reached the shore and George stepped out. His foot had no more than
touched the ground before that same wailing cry rang in their ears
again.

"I tell you it's a banshee," cried Larry, his shock of red hair fairly
standing on end.

"We will attend to the ghosts after we have found the 'Red Rover',"
answered George. His face had paled slightly at the sound, and he
admitted to himself that he felt creepy. He was glad that they were
going away from their camp for a time. It was evident that whatever the
noise might be, it was intended to express disapproval of their presence
on the island. George remembered what Harriet Burrell had said about
ghosts on the previous evening. He had laughed at it at the time. He did
not laugh now. He was thinking and thinking seriously.

No further cries were heard that morning. The boys put out their
campfire and set the camp to rights, Billy in the meantime being engaged
in cleaning and oiling his motor preparatory to the morning run around
the island and along the shore of the mainland.

It was not exactly a joyous party that set out in the launch half an
hour later. They were chagrined at losing the contest and disgusted that
they should have fallen such easy victims to the ingenious schemes of
the girls.

"Do you know, I have been thinking," spoke up Larry after they had
started.

"That's something new," jeered Sam.

"I have been wondering if all the strange things that have occurred to
the girls haven't been part of a plan to keep us stirred up."

"Larry, I'm ashamed of you," exclaimed George indignantly. "Those girls
may be full of mischief, but they don't tell lies. They told us the
truth, about their mysterious enemy, and I don't want to hear any boy
intimate that they haven't. He and I will have a falling out right on
the spot, if he does."

"I apologize. I--I guess I didn't mean it that way," stammered Larry.

"They are too clever for us, that's all there is to it," added George.
"Run into that cove, please, Billy. There is something that looks like a
red boat in there."

The something proved to be a small boathouse painted red. It did
resemble the "Red Rover" somewhat. They headed out of the cove, saying
little, but keeping up a lively thinking. The launch was run up the
shore of the mainland for several miles.

"Shall I turn back?" asked Billy.

"You might as well," nodded George. "I would suggest that we circle the
island once more. Shut dow