"Maybe it is Tom looking for us," said Ruth, chuckling. "The gall of him," exclaimed the heated Copley. Then he made a gesture for silence. A long, quavering "co-ee! co-ee!" came through the mist and from the south. "From one of the islands," said Chess quickly. "What island is that over there?" demanded Ruth, in a whisper. "Isn't it the one we took the first picture on?"
"Well, maybe it is, maybe it is!" Amos laughed genially. "Satisfied with your share, Dave?" "Got my eye on just one more little mite. Just one little mite, then I'm through," chuckled Marshall. "Then you good Republicans can get your feet into the trough." "Co-ee! Lydia!" came a call from the lake shore. Lydia ran to the kitchen door. Charlie Jackson and Kent were skating up to the bank.
A long-drawn "co-ee! co-ee!" which drained away into the depths of the forest-covered islands all about them. They were not where they could see a single isle known to be inhabited. "Who is calling us?" demanded Helen. "Hush!" commanded Ruth. "That is not for us. I have heard it before. It comes from the King of the Pipes' island to be sure it does." "He's calling for help!" gasped Helen.
"Don't laugh Oh! What's that?" From over the water, and unmistakably from the rocky island on the summit of which the blasted beech stood a prominent landmark came the strange cry, "co-ee! co-ee!" which they had heard before. "Do you suppose that poor old man is calling for help?" hesitated Ruth. "Your grandmother's aunt!" ejaculated Helen, in disgust.