Some one had launched a canoe at the Bassett boathouse.

There was a stealthiness in the performance that roused him to vigilance.

He cautiously backed water and waited.

A word or two spoken in a low tone reached Dan and Sylvia: two persons seemed to be embarking.
A canoe shot out suddenly from the dock, driven by a confident hand.
"It must be Marian; but there's some one with her," said Sylvia.
Dan had already settled himself in the stern ready for a race.
"It's probably that idiot Allen," he growled.

"We must follow them." Away from the shore shadows the starlight was sufficient to confirm Dan's surmise as to the nature of this canoe flight.