But there was no such mark; and I knew
that he was absolutely convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the
mud.
But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like
hunting for a needle in a haystack, and he did not attempt it.
Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time.
I was hoping he would give me up and go, for by this time I was
suffering severely from the cold. At last he waded out to his
skiff and rowed away. What if this departure of Yellow
Handkerchief's were a sham? What if he had done it merely to
entice me ashore?
The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had made
a little too much noise with his oars as he rowed away. So I
remained, lying in the mud and shivering. I shivered till the
muscles of the small of my back ached and pained me as badly as the
cold, and I had need of all my self-control to force myself to
remain in my miserable situation.
It was well that I did, however, for, possibly an hour later, I
thought I could make out something moving on the beach.
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