"Bill, our punt's gone!"
With a bound, Billy was beside him, and peering through the rushes into the tiny bay in which they kept their boat.
"Well, Gee whitticker!" he exclaimed. "Who do you s'pose had the nerve to take it?"
Maurice shook his head. "None of our gang 'ud take it," he said. "Likely some of them Sand-sharks."
"That's so," Billy broke off a marsh-flag and champed it in his teeth.
Maurice was climbing a tall poplar standing on the bank of the creek. "I say, Billy," he cried excitedly. "There she is, jest 'round the bend. They've beached her in that piece of woods. It's Joe LaRose an' Art Shipley that took her, I'll bet a cookie. They're always goin' 'cross there to hunt fer turtle's eggs."
"Then come on!" shouted Billy.
"Where to?"
"Down opposite the punt. I'm goin' t' strip an' swim across after her."
Maurice dropped like a squirrel from the poplar. "An' leave them boat thieves stranded?" he panted. "Oh gosh! but won't that serve 'em right!"