"My _dear_! What do you want? What has happened?" asked the girl of the woods.

"Come on out--do, Polly. I've got something to tell you. Just put on your bathing suit," Wyn whispered.

"For pity's sake! What is it?"

"Don't awaken your father. Come."

"Just a minute," whispered the sleepy Polly, and in not much longer than the time stated she crept through the window.

"I'd wake father if I went out by the door," she said. "Now come down to the landing. What are you doing 'way over here at this time o' night?"

"I have the most surprising thing to tell you."

"What about?"

"I wish you'd go over to Gannet Island with me and see if I'm right. The moon will be up bye and bye; won't it?"

"Yes. But what do you mean? What is the mystery?" inquired Polly. Then she seized Wyn's arm and demanded that she "Hush!" although Wyn's lips were not open at the moment.

"I declare I thought I heard something just then," whispered Polly.

"You're bound to hear things in the dark," returned Wyn, cheerfully.

"But it was somebody coughing."

"A bird?" ventured Wyn. "I heard one splashing in the sedges as I came along in the canoe."

"A bird clearing its throat?" laughed Polly. "Not likely!"

She did not bother about it again, but squeezed Wyn's arm. "Tell me what the matter is. It must be something very important to bring you 'way over here alone at night."

"That's right. It is," replied Wyn, and she related to Polly the thing that was troubling her.

"And, oh, Polly! if that thing I hit under the water should be that boat----"

"Oh, Wyn! What would father say?"

"He'd be delighted. So would we all. And we must find out for sure."

"I'll tell him in the morning. We'll go there and see----"

But Wyn stopped her. She showed her how necessary it was for the matter to be looked into secretly. Mr. Lavine had promised to give a motor boat to whichever club found the sunken _Bright Eyes_ and the silver images. And the Busters must not know a thing about it until they were sure----

"Then Mr. Lavine believes father's story about the boat?" burst in Polly.

"I believe he does, Polly, dear. I think, Polly, that he would be very, very glad to have Mr. Jarley cleared of all suspicion. He is sorry for your father's trouble. I think his att.i.tude, toward your father has changed from what it must have been at one time."

"It ought to be!" exclaimed Polly.

"Of course. But we none of us always do all we ought to do," observed Wyn mildly.

"If we are going to try and find that place where you dived to-day, Wyn, we'd better be about it," Polly urged.

"You'll go now?" cried Wyn.

"Of course I will. The boys will be asleep up in their camp. We will take the _Coquette_. There is a breeze."

"Let's tow my canoe behind, then," said Wyn, eagerly. "Come on! I'm just crazy to dive for the thing again. If it _is_ the _Bright Eyes_----"

Polly insisted upon hunting out a couple of old blankets to wrap about them if the wind should turn chill.

"And after you have been overboard you'll want something to protect you from the night air," she said.

"Oh, Polly! do you suppose I can find the place again?" cried Wyn, infinitely more eager than the boatman's daughter.

"You say it's right off the boys' float? Well! we can look, I guess."

"Feel, you mean," laughed Wyn. "For _I_ couldn't see anything down there even by daylight--it was so deep."

"All right. We'll look with our hands. I shall know if it's a boat, Wyn, once I reach it."

"And I hope it _is_" gasped Wyn. "Not alone for _your_ sake, Polly. Why, if it is the _Bright Eyes_, the Go-Aheads will own a motor boat their very own selves. Won't that be fine?"

But Polly was too busy getting the catboat ready to answer. The _Coquette_ was moored just a little way off the landing, and the two girls went out to her in Wyn's canoe.

There was a lantern in her cuddy and Polly lit it. Then they slipped the buoyed moorings and spread a little canvas. There was quite a breeze, and it was fair for their course to Gannet Island. Soon the catboat was laying over a bit, and the foam was streaking away behind them in a broad wake.

"What a lovely night!" sighed Wyn. "And it will be the very gladdest night I ever saw if that thing I hit proves to be the _Bright Eyes_."

Polly had glanced behind them frequently. "Don't you hear anything?" she asked finally.

"Hear what?"

"Hush! that's somebody getting up a sail. Can't you hear it?"

Wyn listened, and then murmured: "Your ears must be sharper than mine, Polly. I hear nothing but the slap of the water."

"No. There is another sailboat under weigh. Where can it be from?"

"You don't suppose your father was aroused, and is coming after us?"

asked Wyn.

"Of course not. Beside, the _Coquette_ is the only sailing boat--except a canoe--that we have at present. The other cat is loaned for a week. And I heard the hoops creaking on the mast as a heavy sail went up."

"Some crowd of fishermen?" suggested Wyn.

"But where's their light?"

Wyn stared all around. "You're right," she gasped. "There isn't a single twinkling lantern--except ash.o.r.e."