seemed ten times as long as that—and then of a sudden the lad heard a movement at the bottom of the launch. The dog Harold Bird had brought along arose, stretched himself, and listened intently.
"What is it, Dandy?" asked Tom, patting the animal on the head. "What do you hear?"
For reply the dog continued to listen. Then the hair on his back began to rise and he set up a short, sharp bark.
"He certainly hears something," reasoned Tom. "Can any of those men be in this vicinity?"
The bow of the launch was close to a sprawling tree branch, and to look beyond the rubber covering, Tom crawled forward and stepped on the branch. The dog followed to the extreme bow of the boat and gave another short, sharp bark.
"He hears something, that is certain," mused the boy. "But what it can be is a puzzle to me."
Tom tried to pierce the darkness and mist, but it was impossible. He strained his ears, but all he could hear was the occasional dropping of water from one leaf to another over his head.
"Maybe I had better arouse the others," he murmured, for the barking of the dog had apparently not disturbed them. "I am sure the dog wouldn't bark unless there was a reason for it; would you, Dandy?"
