Both Dave and Frank promised instant murder for that, so he had to
admit that they would reach the best spring in Winthrop County
within three minutes.

"Saved your hide by just twenty-nine seconds," declared Dave as he
plunged his face into the bubbling surface of the clearest, coldest
kind of a hillside spring.

Their gait was much livelier after that, and in less than ten
minutes Plum Run was sighted, But they did not come out as close to
Lost Island as Jerry had predicted. In fact, they were not certain
in which direction it lay, for to the north lay a cluster of trees
apparently surrounded by water, and which might well be the place
they sought. To the south lay another green spot away from shore.

"It's north of here," declared both Dave and Frank, but Jerry
exclaimed triumphantly, after the first tangle of argument:

"It must be south. If Lost Island was north the wagon bridge'd be
between us and it."

So south they went; and as they drew nearer they saw that the patch
of green was indeed Lost Island. Once they were within close sight
of it, they went forward with all caution. The last hundred yards or
so they made on hands and knees, finding cover in every clump of
bushes or willows on the way.

But finally they were ready to break through the last fringe of
willow and spy out the prospect. Jerry, who was ahead, waited for
his two companions to catch up with him.