In Dead Man's Chest George and Paul embark on a raft trip to investigate an underground lake that is definitely dark and wet . . . and may be haunted.

"Hey, what's that?"

Paul's voice snapped George out of his thoughts.

"What's what?"

"That." Paul pointed with his left hand. George followed the line of Paul's finger and saw something dark in front of them and off to the left. It looked like it might be solid ground. But isn't that in the wrong direction? He thought. He looked around. Now that they were out of sight of the shore, it was almost impossible to tell which direction they were going.

"Is that the other side?" Paul asked. There was a note of excitement in his voice.

"I don't know." George pulled out the map with the lake on it. He didn't know what the scale of the map was, but he had gotten a feel for the distances they had traveled in the tunnels. As much as he wanted to believe they were all the way across the lake, he really didn't think they'd gone that far. Had they been going the wrong way all this time?

George's stomach dropped like stone. He'd tried to keep them going in the direction of the shore, but it was hard to navigate in the darkness. The light of his bright didn't carry very far. They could have been paddling in circles and they would never know it. They might even be heading back to where they had started from!

George knew he needed to make a decision - and fast, too. If that wasn't the shore up ahead, then they would be wasting precious time by paddling over to it. But if it was and they went the other way, they could be down here for a very long time. He had to pick one of the two options.

"I think we should check it out," George said finally. He hoped he sounded more decisive than he felt.

He paddled on the right side of the raft only, turning it to the left, in the direction of the shadowy bank ahead. It took a while to get there, but it was definitely starting to look like land. George felt a rush of relief. He couldn't wait to get off this lake!

"I don't think it's the other side," Paul said with disappointment in his voice.

George stopped paddling and looked up. Paul was right. It didn't look like the opposite shore.

"It's . . . it's an island," George said, amazed. Who would have thought there would be an underground lake under New York City, let alone one big enough to have an island in it!

A little part of George wanted to land on the island and check it out. But his common sense talked him out of it. He was already majorly late, and stopping here would just make him later. Plus he was beginning to wonder if they were even going to be able to find a way out. That was what was really important now. Pirate stuff was beginning not to feel as important anymore. But still . . .

George turned the boat around and set off back in the opposite direction. But he couldn't stop himself from taking one look back at the mysterious island, wondering what secrets it might hold. As the raft moved slowly away, he thought he could see something on the surface of the island. He turned his bright toward it, and it slowly came into focus.

It was a tombstone.

A feeling like ice ran down George's back.

He started paddling faster.