the heart of his adversary.

Somehow no one admitted to feeling at all sleepy now. Even Bumpus, who
as a rule could be depended on to fall asleep right after he had had his
supper, was apparently as wide-awake as a hawk; and joined in all the
conversation as they sat around on the deck and waited for, they hardly
knew what, to happen.

"Anyhow, we didn't tie up to the shore, as Bumpus wanted when he said
he'd feel so much better if he could walk on firm ground again,"
remarked Step Hen.

"And I'm glad now that twenty feet or more of water lies between us and
shore," the party mentioned hastened to add.

"How deep do you think it is in here, Thad?" questioned Davy.

"All of twenty feet in the place our anchor went down," replied the
skipper, promptly, "it's a regular hole, such as the trout like to lie
in during the hot dog days of late summer."

"Glad to hear you say that," observed Bumpus; but he did not explain
whether his pleasure lay in the fact that any would-be boarders might
find it difficult to cross over from the rocks to the boat; or that
there were likely to be fish in the pool, affording a chance for a
nibble at the tempting bait he had dropped overboard, attached to the
concealed hook at the end of his line.

"If anybody came along here just on purpose to take a good look at us,
whereabouts d'ye think they'd be likely to show up, first of all, Thad?"