"It's someone in distress." "People in distress never cry out like that." "Why, Tom, it's that Thorpeley stuck in the mud somewhere; and it's our doing." "It's his own if he is stuck there.

But I don't believe it is.

Why, it's two miles nearer home than where we left him." "Then it's somebody else in trouble," said Dick excitedly.
"It isn't.

Let's go home." Tom was, as a rule, no coward; but he was faint and tired, and the very fact of being seated out on the dark waters with the gloom so thick that they could see but a short distance, and with an unnatural-looking light on one side and a strange marrow-thrilling cry coming on the other, was enough to startle stouter-hearted lads than he, and he held more tightly to his companion as Dick seized the pole.
"Let's get back home," he said again.
"You said I was afraid to go to the will o' the wisp," said Dick stoutly.

"You're afraid to go now and see what it is makes that noise." "Well, I can't help it," said Tom appealingly; "but if you go I shall go with you.