CHAPTER XII. A CRUISE AROUND THE ISLAND
"Well, Bob," said Tom, as they seated themselves on the bunks to collecttheir wits and think the situation over, "we know who did it, of course.The next thing is to prove it."
"It won't be so easy," responded Bob. "Jack Harvey hasn't done this thingwithout first planning out how he could dispose of the tent withoutattracting the slightest attention. He planned it in a good time, too,when half the village was away at the clambake."
"Yes," said Tom, "and that's what he sailed out on that short trip for,to look in at our tent without exciting any suspicion. He found out thatthere wasn't anybody around it, and then he and the others came down pastour fire on purpose for us to see them and to prove by every one therethat they were in another part of the island when our camp was stolen. Hedid it, though, and he's covered it up well. We'll have hard work toprove it against him."
"I'll be madder to-morrow, when I'm not so sleepy." said Bob. "Let's goon up to the Warren cottage now, and wait till to-morrow before doinganything. It isn't going to rain to-night, and the stuff will not beharmed out here without a covering."
So they travelled up to the Warren cottage, greatly to the surprise ofthe Warren boys, who had gone to bed and were sound asleep when they gotthere, and greatly to the concern of good Mrs. Warren, whose indignationdid more to comfort them than anything else in the world could have.There was always room for more in the spacious old cottage, and they weresoon stowed away in bed, quickly forgetting their troubles in sleep.
"You'll stay right here for the rest of the summer," said Mrs. Warren thenext morning at breakfast. "You can bring your camp stuff up and store itin the shed, and I guess it will be safe there from Jack Harvey oranybody else. It's a crying shame, but you're welcome here, so don't feeltoo bad about it. I don't think the boys will be sorry to have you here."
"I guess we won't," cried the Warren boys, in chorus. "But we'll get thattent yet, I think," said George Warren. "I don't believe Jack Harveywould dare destroy it. He's got it hidden somewhere, depend upon it. Andwe must find out where that place is."
"I wish I could believe it," said Tom, "but I'm afraid his experiencewith our box taught him a lesson. It is my belief that he has taken thetent and sunk it out in the bay, weighted with stones, so it will nevercome to light. However, we will start out after breakfast to see if anyone in the village saw him or his crew anywhere near the tent while wewere away."
The search through the village for a clue proved, unfortunately, asfruitless as Tom had feared. Not a soul had seen Harvey or any one of hiscrew about the camp during the evening, nor, for that matter, anybodyelse. The disappearance remained as mysterious as though the wind hadborne the tent away out to sea.
"Say the word," said Captain Sam, when he heard of it, "and I'll go overto Mayville and get warrants for the whole crew. We'll have them up andexamine every one of them. We can't have things of that sort going onaround this village."
"I don't want to do it," said Tom. "At least, not yet awhile. I don'tlike to suspect Harvey or any of his crew of actually stealing the tent.It may be they have taken it just to annoy us for a night or two, and weshall get it back again. I'd rather take it as a practical joke for a fewdays, at any rate, than to have any boy arrested. I can't believe theywould steal it for good, intending to keep it. Let's wait and see."
"You'll never see your tent, then, I'm thinking," said Captain Sam, "forI don't believe Harvey has the least idea of bringing it back. And thelonger we wait the harder it will be catching him. However, do as youthink best. I'll go down to-morrow and look their camp over, anyway, onmy own hook. I have the right to do that. I'm a constable, and I'll looktheir camp over on general principles."
"You'll not find anything, I fear," said Tom.
"Fellows," said George Warren, as they all sat around the open fire thatevening, "we haven't been on a cruise for a long time. What do you say tostarting out in the _Spray_ to-morrow for a trip around the island? Itwill take one, two, or three days, according to the wind, and Henry Burnssays he can go. We'll take along a fly-tent and some blankets, and partof us can sleep on shore, so we won't be crowded."
"Great!" cried Bob. "It comes in a good time for us, when we're without ahome--oh, I didn't mean that," he added, hastily, as Mrs. Warren lookedreproachfully at him. "This is a better home than our camp was, to besure. I mean, while our affairs are so upset, while we don't know whetherwe shall be camping to-morrow or living here. It may help to straightenmatters out, and, if by chance Harvey and his crew feel like putting thetent back, this will give them the opportunity."
"Then we'll get the lines ready," said George. "There's lots of small codat the foot of the island,--and we might take a run across to the islandsbelow, where there's lots of bigger ones. We'll plan to be gone two daysor a week, just as it happens, and put in plenty of flour and biscuit andsome canned stuff, in case we can't get fish."
"How happens it that Henry Burns can get off so easily?" asked Tom.
"Oh, they've let up on him a good deal since the capture of Craigie,"answered George. "Now that the papers have said so much about him and therest of us, and the people at the hotel have made so much of him, Mrs.Carlin has come to the conclusion that he isn't so much of a helplesschild as she thought he was. She lets him do pretty much as he likes now,and so Colonel Witham don't bother him, either. He will be over by andby, and we'll make sure he can go."
Henry Burns put in an appearance soon after, and the subject of thevoyage was duly discussed in all its phases, and settled. The nextforenoon found them all aboard the little yacht _Spray_, gettingeverything shipshape and storing away some provisions and water.
"Looks as though we were going on a long voyage," said young Joe, as hiseyes rested fondly on several cans of lunch-tongue and two large mincepies which Mrs. Warren had generously provided, besides several tins ofbeef and a small keg of water.
"Well, Joe," said Arthur, "you know, having you with us to help eat upstuff is equivalent to going on a long voyage. And then, one never knowson a trip of this kind when he is going to get back."
Which was certainly true, if anything ever was.
They made a great point aboard the _Spray_, these Warren boys, of havingevery rope and sail and cleat in perfect condition; no snarled ropes, notorn canvas, and no loose bolts nor cleats to give way in a strain; andthey began now, as usual, to see that everything was in shipshapecondition before they cast off from their moorings and headed out of theharbour.
The little yacht was, therefore, as trim as any craft could be when theyset sail on their voyage, with Mrs. Warren waving good-bye to them fromthe front piazza.
"I never feel as free anywhere in the world as I do out aboard the_Spray_ on a trip like this," said George Warren, stretching himself outcomfortably on the house of the cabin, while Arthur held the tiller."It's the best fun there is down here, after all."
"Well, I don't know, a canoe isn't so bad," said Bob. "You can't take somany, to be sure, but when Tom and I get off on that and go down amongthe islands for a day or two, sleeping underneath it on the beaches atnight and cooking on the shore as we go along, we feel pretty much likeCrusoes ourselves, eh, Tom?"
"Indeed we do," answered Tom. "It's the next best thing, surely, tosailing a boat."
"By the way, Tom," asked Arthur, "where did you leave the canoe? Notwhere any one could get that, I hope."
"No, that's safe and snug," replied Tom. "It's locked up in your shed,and your mother has the key. That's one thing we shall find all rightwhen we get back."
The wind was blowing lightly from the northwest, and, as they werestarting out to make the circuit of the island by way of the northern endfirst, they had to beat their way up along the coast against a head wind.
"This little boat isn't such a bad sailer," said George Warren,admiringly, gazing aloft at a snug setting topsail. "For a boat of itssize, I guess she goes to windward as well as any. There's only one thin
gthe matter with her. She's small, and when she's reefed down under threereefs, with the choppy seas we have in this bay, she don't work well towindward, and that's a fault that might be dangerous, if there were notso many harbours around this coast to run to in a storm."
"I suppose some day we'll have a bigger one, don't you?" queried Joe.
"Yes, when we can earn it, father says," replied George. "That don't lookso easy, though. A fellow can't earn much when he's studying."
"What's that up there on the ledges?" interrupted young Joe, pointingahead to some long reefs that barely projected above the surface of thewater.
"They are seals--can't you see?" replied Arthur. "The wind is right, andwe'll sail close up on to them before they know it. We can't shoot,because we haven't any gun aboard, but we'll just take them by surprise."
The little _Spray_, running its nose quietly past the point of the firstledge and sailing through a channel sown with the rocks on either hand,came as a surprise to a colony of the sleek creatures, sunning themselveson the dry part of the ledges. They floundered clumsily off the rocks andsplashed into the water, like a lot of schoolboys caught playing hookey,and only when the whole pack had slipped off into the sea did they uttera sound, a series of short, sharp barks, as here and there a curious headbobbed up for a moment, and then dived quickly below again.
"They have as much curiosity as a human being," said George Warren. "Justwatch them steal those quick glances at us, and then bob under wateragain. The fishermen around here shoot them whenever they get a chance,because they eat the salmon out of the nets, but I never could bear totake a shot at one. They seem so intelligent, like a lot of tame dogs. Idon't believe in shooting creatures much, anyway, unless you want themfor food, or unless they are wild, savage animals."
"That don't apply to ducks, I hope," said Tom. "We want to take you upinto the woods with us some fall, and have you do some shooting of thatkind,--ducks and partridges and perhaps a deer or two."
"No, I'd like that first rate," answered George. "It's this senselessshooting of creatures that you don't want after they are shot that Idon't believe in. I don't believe in shooting things just for the sake ofkilling them. Actual hunting in the woods for game that you live on isanother thing. It's a healthful, vigorous sport that takes one into cleansurroundings and does one good."
They chatted on, discussing this and that, till the yacht at lengthturned the head of the island and ran along past Bryant's Cove.
"We won't forget that harbour in a hurry," they said, as they sailed by.
The wind was gradually dying down with the sun, and would not carry themmuch farther that night, though they were soon running before it, as theyrounded the uppermost point and headed away for the foot of the island,some thirteen miles away.
"We'll have just about wind enough to run along to Dave Benson's place,"said George. "It's two miles down, but the wind and tide are both in ourfavour,--what there is of them. We can buy some green corn of Dave, andhe will let us pull his lobster-pots and charge us only five cents foreach lobster. Things are cheap down here, if you buy them of thefishermen. A little money means a good deal to them. A little flour andtea and sugar at the village store, and they live mighty comfortably onwhat they catch and what they raise on their farms. They don't know whatit means to be poor, as the poor in our city do."
"Yes, and they live a happy life, for the most part," said Henry Burns."They get a good share of their living out of the sea, and I've alwaysnoticed that seafaring people are generally very well contented withtheir lot. You never hear them grumbling, as men do that work hard onfarms. The sea seems to inspire them more; at least, it seems so to me."
"What does 'inspire' mean, please, Henry?" queried young Joe, winking atBob. "It sounds like a very nice word."
"Inspiration means a strong desire and ambition to do something, and aconviction that one cannot fail," answered Henry Burns. "For instance, Imight feel myself inspired to knock an idea into your head, just likethis." And Henry Burns administered a sound cuff on that younggentleman's head. "That's a very crude example," added Henry Burns."Perhaps I can give you a better one, if you would like."
"No, I thank you," said young Joe. "That will do very well for thepresent. I think I understand."
Dave Benson's place was a weather-beaten old house set in the midst of acorn and bean patch, close by a little creek that ran in from the westernbay. It had an air of dilapidation, but, withal, of comfort about it.There was a little garden, some hake were drying on flakes beyond thehouse, a rowboat and a dory were pulled up on the beach a little way upthe creek, and the indispensable sailboat, built by Dave himself in thewinter months, was lying a little offshore in the shelter of a projectinghook of land.
"Hulloa, Dave," shouted George Warren, as a tall, sunburned figure, gauntbut powerful, emerged from the door of the house and peered out acrossthe water at them.
"Hulloa," he said, laconically. "You all ain't been over much to see uslately."
"No, but we thought we would make a call to-day," said George. "Will youcome out and get us? We left the tender behind. We're going around theisland."
For answer the man shoved his dory off the beach, stepped in, and sculledout to them with one oar out over the stern.
"Climb in here sort of easy like, now," said he, "and I guess I can takethe whole of you ashore at one load. If you two ain't used to thiscraft," he added, addressing Tom and Bob, "you want to look out some, forits tippery and no mistake, though there ain't no better boat when youknow how to behave in it."
"I guess it's something like our canoe," said Tom. "We're used to that,so I think we'll manage. Perhaps you never saw a canoe."
"Not as I know of," returned the other. "Though I do recall seeing what Ithought must be one, from what I've heard, going along the shore downbelow here about an hour ago."
"It couldn't have been a canoe," said Bob, "for ours is the only one onthe island, and that is locked up safe at home in the Warren's shed."
"Mebbe not," replied Dave Benson. "I ain't sure at all. I just noticedthere was two boys in it, and they were on their knees and pushing italong with what you call paddles, I think."
Tom and Bob looked at each other blankly.
"It can't be possible," said Tom, at length. "I left ours locked up safeenough. Dave's made a mistake."
"Got any corn?" asked Arthur.
"Yes, there's some growing out there, I reckon. You can go out and pickwhat you want and gimme what you like for it. It's good and sweet, Ireckon."
"And lobsters, how about them?" asked young Joe.
"Well, I haven't pulled the pots to-day," said Dave. "You can go and dothat, too, I reckon. There ought to be some there. I baited them allfresh with cunners and sculpins last night."
"Let me go and pull them," said Bob. "I never caught a lobster. Come on,Joe, you can show me how and I'll do the work."
"Did you ever handle a dory?" asked Dave.
"No," answered Bob, "but I'm used to a canoe."
"And did you ever pull a lobster-pot?"
"No, never saw one."
"Then you want to look out," said Dave, and took himself off into hishouse, leaving the boys to themselves.
Bob got another oar, and, with young Joe in the stern, rowed out a fewrods toward some ledges, where Dave had indicated that the lobster-potswere set.
"Did you ever pull a lobster-pot, Joe?" asked Bob, as they came in sightof half a dozen small wooden buoys, about as big as ten-pins, floating ata short distance from one another, with ropes attached.
"No, I never did," replied Joe; "but I've seen it done and it looks easy.You just lift the pot aboard the boat and open a trap-door and take outthe lobsters. Only you want to look out how you take hold of one of them,that's all. It's all right if you take him by the back."
On shore, seated on a huge stick of timber, washed ashore long ago andhalf-imbedded in the sand, the other boys watched the proceedings withinterest.
"Bob will do it all right, of cours
e," said George, winking slyly atArthur. "It's a simple enough trick, only it is harder in a dory than ina boat with a keel to it, for a dory slides off so."
"Just like a canoe," said Tom.
"By the way," he added, "is a lobster-pot heavy?"
"That's the deceptive part of it," replied George. "It's a great big cagemade of laths with a bottom of boards, and it comes to the surface easybecause the water buoys it up. It's the lifting it out that fools one.It's got three or four big stones in it to weigh it down, and you havegot to bring it out of water with a sudden lift or it will stickhalf-way."
In the meantime, Bob, having grasped one of the floating buoys, proceededto haul in the slack of the rope, which was quite long, to allow for thetide, which was now low.
"It comes up easy," he said to Joe, as he drew it up slowly to thesurface, hand over hand. "Here she comes now. Wait till it lands on thegunwale and then lean over on the other side, so we won't capsize." Bobgrasped the slats of the big cage and lifted manfully.
The lobster-pot came up all right, as George had explained, till, just atthe point where it should have left the water, it stopped suddenly andstuck like a bar of lead. Unluckily, Bob had not counted on that extraweight of stone inside, nor on the loss of the buoyancy of the water. Atthe same instant, moreover, young Joe, seeing the cage strike thegunwale, shifted over to the other side of the dory. This settled thematter. The pot lodged half-way over one gunwale, hung there for amoment, long enough to careen the crank thing down on its side; Bob andJoe both lost their balance and slid the same way, the dory filled withwater, and boys and lobster-pot slumped into the sea.
The boys on shore set up a roar at the mishap of their comrades, whilelong Dave Benson, emerging once more from his cabin door, was heard tochuckle as he strode down to the shore and shoved off his rowboat.
"It's just like a canoe, exactly," he muttered, "just like it--only it'sso different." And he doubled up at the oars and laughed silently.
Bob and Joe, coming to the surface, puffing and blowing water, werepleased to note the sympathy displayed for them in four boyish forms,rolling off the log and holding on to their sides with laughter. Nor didthe keenness of this sympathy abate the whole evening long, for every nowand then one of them might be heard to repeat the language of DaveBenson, as he glanced significantly at the others, "It's just like acanoe--only it's so different."
However, Bob and Joe, being duly scrubbed down and invested in a changeof duck clothing from the locker of the _Spray_, did not relish any theless the supper that awaited them, of broiled live lobster, cooked over aglowing bed of coals on the beach, and corn that was as sweet as DaveBenson had promised. They took their chaffing as good fellows andcomrades are bound to do, only vowing inwardly to bide their time forrevenge.
Then, as night was coming on, they set up their fly-tent on a clean, drypart of the beach, well beyond the reach of the tide, spread down theirblankets, and Tom and Bob and Henry Burns turned in to sleep there,leaving the little cabin of the _Spray_ for the Warren boys.
"Bob," said Tom, "did you hear what Dave Benson said as he brought in thecapsized dory, with the lobsters, too?"
"He said it was 'just like a canoe, only--'"
"Oh, you dry up, Tom," exclaimed Bob. "Your turn will come next, so don'trub it in."
And they went off soundly to sleep.
The next morning, when they awoke, they found that the wind had alteredand was beginning to blow up from the southward. They must, therefore,beat their way down to the foot of the island, some ten miles distant,against a head wind and sea, for a southerly always rolled in more orless of a sea after it had blown for an hour or so.
"Come again," called out Dave Benson, as they left his cabin astern, andhe stood waving them farewell with his weather-beaten hat.
"I'd just like to know what he meant when he said he saw a canoe outhere," said Tom. "I know ours is all right, but he certainly did describea canoe, when he spoke about its being paddled, and ours is the only oneI know of around here."
"Yes, and he saw it last night, or, rather, yesterday afternoon," saidBob, "and nobody would have disturbed ours in broad daylight, at anyrate."
But about an hour later, they came suddenly to the conclusion that DaveBenson knew what he was talking about, when Henry Burns exclaimed all atonce: "Why, there it is now. Dave Benson was right, after all. That's acanoe, down about a mile ahead, just off that white line of beach, andthere are two paddling it."
The boys looked in amazement. There could be no mistaking it. Henry Burnshad surely spied a canoe. They could make it out quite plainly, pitchingslightly in the sea, with apparently some one at either end.
"Quick, get the glass, Joe," cried George Warren, who had the tiller."It's in the locker in the cabin, you know. That will show us just who itis."
Young Joe dived below and reappeared the next instant, bringing a smalltelescope.
"Here," he said, handing it to Tom, "take a look at them."
Tom adjusted the focus of the glass and sighted the craft ahead, thenexclaimed, excitedly: "Yes, it's them, sure enough. It's Harvey and JoeHinman and it's the canoe. We've got them, too, if the _Spray_ can onlycatch them. We're sure to get the canoe, at any rate, for they can't runfar or fast with that on their shoulders, if they see us and take to theshore. We know what it is to try to hurry with that."
"That we do," returned Bob. "Let me have a look, Tom."
"Cracky!" he exclaimed, as he put the glass down almost as soon as he hadsighted it. "Who'd have thought they would have had the nerve to get thatin broad daylight? They must know they are sure to be seen in it, too.What on earth can Harvey be thinking of?"
"We'll set the club topsail and the other jib in a hurry," said George,"and perhaps we can overhaul them before they see us."
They got the extra sail on in a twinkling and laid the course of the_Spray_ a little closer into the wind. Fifteen minutes went by, and theyhad made rapid progress in overhauling the canoe. They made short tacks,so as not to be seen by the paddlers, if possible, by keeping so far asthey could in a line with the stern of the canoe.
Presently, however, the boy who was wielding the stern paddle turned andlooked back, and they could see plainly that it was Harvey.
He must have seen them, too, and been vastly surprised, for, carryingacross the strip of land at the Narrows, he had surely expected to meetno familiar yacht in the western bay. The occupants of the canoe turnedtheir craft more in toward shore, though not directly, and, at least soit seemed to the boys, began paddling desperately, as though they hopedto escape.
If they had thought they could run away from the _Spray_ in this way,they soon found out their mistake, for the Spray continued rapidly tooverhaul them.
Turning squarely in toward the shore, Harvey and Joe Hinman soon reachedit, jumped out, and drew the canoe far up on the beach. Their next movesurprised the crew of the Spray. Leaving the canoe in full sight on thebeach, Harvey and Joe Hinman walked deliberately away, without so much aslooking back at their pursuers.
"That's a mighty strange performance," exclaimed George Warren. "I don'tunderstand that at all."
There was no place to run the _Spray_ in close to shore, so they roundedto some thirty feet out, and Tom and Bob, hastily throwing off theirclothes, dived overboard and swam to the beach.
Tom was the first to reach the canoe; but, as he came upon it and turnedit over, he uttered a cry of astonishment.
"They've fooled us this time, sure enough," he said to Bob, who camepanting up. "It isn't our canoe."
The canoe, in fact, was new.
It was enough like theirs to be its mate, both as to size and colour, butthere was not a scratch upon it nor upon the paddles. The canoe could nothave been used more than once or twice since it had left the maker'shands.
"The joke is on us," cried Bob to the boys in the _Spray_. "It's anothercanoe. Harvey's 'governor,' as he calls him, must have bought it for himand sent it down on the boat yesterday. He doesn't seem to be
afraid totrust us with his property, which is more than we would do with him."
"Perhaps he would rather trust the canoe with us than to trust himselfwith all of us just at this time," replied Tom. "I feel like taking italong with us, to make him give up our tent, but I'm afraid that wouldn'tdo. We can't prove that he has it, either."
Harvey and Joe Hinman had clearly left the canoe to its fate, so therewas nothing to do but to swim aboard the _Spray_ again, and the voyagedown the island was resumed.
"There's one thing about it," said Tom, as he scrambled into his clothingonce more, "if Jack Harvey is as reckless and as careless in that canoeas he is in his yacht it will be washed up on shore some day without him.Not that I hope it will happen, but I look to see it."
"I don't think he was born to be drowned," said Henry Burns.
Toward noon they came in sight of the southern extremity of the island,or the extremities, to speak more accurately, for the end of the islandhere was divided into a succession of thin points of land of variousshapes, affording a number of small, rockbound harbours, snug andsecluded, and each making good shelter for small vessels.
They selected one of these, and, as they knew the waters to be filledwith a species of small cod, they determined to lay up here for theafternoon and night, starting out again the next morning. They broughtthe _Spray_ well in to the head of the harbour which they selected, sothat it was almost wholly land-locked when they dropped anchor and furledtheir sails.
Toward evening the wind decreased, dying out almost entirely. Big banksof clouds piling up in the northwest told them that they might expect thebreeze from that quarter in the morning.
It was getting dusk and they were cooking their supper in the littlecabin of the _Spray_, when young Joe, looking out of the companionway,exclaimed: "Why, here comes company; another yacht's going to lie in herefor the night, too."
Looking out, they saw a big black sloop coming slowly into the harbour.She had come up from the southward before the wind, and had only hermainsail set. There was hardly breeze enough to bring her in. She driftedin slowly, with one man at her wheel, and, as she came within hailingdistance, young Joe, going forward, swung his cap and shouted, "Ahoy."
The man at the wheel did not respond, but, strangely enough, at the soundof young Joe's voice the yacht slowly turned again, heading completelyabout, and stood out of the harbour again.
"Doesn't seem to like our company," said Henry Burns.
"Guess he'll have to have it, whether he wants it or not," said GeorgeWarren. "There's not wind enough to take him out again, as he will findwhen he gets the set of the tide at the entrance."
If the helmsman aboard the strange yacht had really intended to quit theharbour again, he found the tide to be as George Warren had said. Aftervainly trying to make out for a few moments, he left the wheel, ranforward, and the next moment they heard the splash of his anchor. Thenthe sail dropped and the man went below.
"Whoever they are aboard there, they don't seem inclined to be sociable,"said Henry Burns. "Well, they don't have to be, if they don't want to."
"Guess they're afraid we'll keep them awake," said George Warren. "Theyare fishermen, by the looks. See, she carries no topmast, so she is not apleasure yacht, though she looks from here like a fast boat. They makethem good models now, since Burgess began it."
"I guess that's so," said Arthur Warren. "Those fishermen like to sleepnights, after a hard day's work, without being disturbed. I remember onenight we laid up in a harbour and began singing college songs, and a crewof them rowed over to us and threatened to lick us if we didn't keepquiet. This fellow doesn't want to be disturbed."
"I'll hail him, anyway, if he comes on deck again," said Henry Burns,"and find out where he is from. I like to know my neighbours."
But the man aboard the strange yacht was not inclined to be neighbourly.He did not appear on deck again. A thin wreath of smoke curled out of thefunnel in his cabin, and they knew he was getting a meal. That was theonly sign of life aboard.
Sometime that night--he did not know the hour--Henry Burns awoke,conscious of some sound that had disturbed his light slumbers. Presentlyhe became aware that it was the sound of a sail being hoisted. Getting upsoftly without disturbing his companions, he crept out of the cabin andlooked across the water. The moon was shining, and he could see a lonefigure aboard the strange yacht, getting the boat under way.
Henry Burns saw him go forward and labour for awhile at the anchor rope.Then, for a wind had arisen, the man ran aft to the wheel, and HenryBurns saw the strange yacht go sailing out of the harbour.
"That's a queer thing to do," muttered Henry Burns. "There's somethingstrange about it. He tried to get out before, the minute he saw us.Cracky! You don't suppose---- No, that's nonsense. I'm getting altogethertoo suspicious ever since I came across that man Craigie upon the roof ofthe hotel."
And Henry Burns went back to his bunk again.
The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns Page 13
