They were heading straight in now toward the solid rock, which
must have been well over a hundred feet tall, and not until they
were within fifty yards of it did Ardita see their objective.
Then she clapped her hands in delight. There was a break in the
cliff entirely hidden by a curious overlapping of rock, and
through this break the yacht entered and very slowly traversed a
narrow channel of crystal-clear water between high gray walls.
Then they were riding at anchor in a miniature world of green and
gold, a gilded bay smooth as glass and set round with tiny
palms, the whole resembling the mirror lakes and twig trees that
children set up in sand piles.

"Not so darned bad!" cried Carlyle excitedly.

"I guess that little coon knows his way round this corner of the
Atlantic."

His exuberance was contagious, and Ardita became quite jubilant.

"It's an absolutely sure-fire hiding-place!"

"Lordy, yes! It's the sort of island you read about."

The rowboat was lowered into the golden lake and they pulled to
shore.

"Come on," said Carlyle as they landed in the slushy sand, "we'll
go exploring."