When luncheon time passed and there was still no sign of the "Merry Maid," Tom Curtis could bear the suspense of waiting no longer.
"Something has happened, or the girls would have been here before this," he declared positively. "Bolling, I am going to leave you and Sears to wait here in the rowboat. I am going to look down the coast."
"All right, old man," agreed the other boys. They did not share Tom's uneasiness. Indeed, as the "Sea Gull" headed down the coast, the three men on board her heard Harry Sears shouting an improvised verse:
"Where, oh, where, is the 'Merry Maid'?
What wind or wave has her delayed?
Our hearts are breaking, our launch is quaking,
Fear and despair are us overtaking,
Where, oh, where——"
The rest of this remarkable effusion was lost to their ears as they glided along.
"It is rather strange that we haven't picked them up yet, isn't it?"
David Brewster said nothing. He was always a silent youth. With Tom's telescope in his hand he stood eagerly scanning the line of the coast as the motor launch ran along near the shore.
"Ho, there!" he cried. "What's that? Look over there!"
Tom shut off speed and hurriedly seized the spy-glass.
There, apparently peacefully resting on the bosom of the water, was an odd craft, gleaming white in the afternoon sun. Tom Curtis at once recognized the "Merry Maid."