the seaward side. There was a dank, heavy growth of vegetation and the island seemed to steam in the summer heat.
"Ugly looking place, isn't it?" remarked Frank, as the motorboat sped on its way.
The craft drew closer to the island. There was no sign of life. As they came nearer the boys could distinguish the fetid swamp land facing the coast, the still, silent trees that seemed to droop beneath the scorching sun and they felt a qualm of repulsion. Blacksnake Island was not an inviting place. It lived up to its name. It was a fit abode for serpents—not for human beings.
When they were within half a mile of the island, they heard a vague but familiar sound.
"Motorboat!" exclaimed Frank.
They listened. They could hear the sound of a motorboat, apparently approaching from the far side of the island. Frank spun the wheel.
"We'll head down the channel. No use letting them think we're bound for the island," he said. "It's not likely to have anything to do with our search, but it's best to play safe."
The Sleuth changed its course, so that Blacksnake Island was now to one side, and the motorboat appeared to be heading on down the coast. The Hardy boys scanned the dark bank of land intently.
