“I wonder who it was.”
“Didn’t ask his name,” said the boy; “but I guess he just got through some sort of an accident. His hat was gone and his clothes were all torn, and his cheek was scratched and cut. Is there a doctor on the Sachem? Mebbe he wanted the doctor to patch him up.”
“This is some interesting, pard,” said Buckhart, as they settled in the boat and the boy pushed off. “I wonder who the chap was.”
“What did he look like?” asked Dick, directing his question toward the rower.
“Well, from what I saw he was kind of slim and had dark eyes and hair, and a little pointed mustache.”
“That description fits Porfias del Norte right well,” said Buckhart; “but it can’t be the greaser, for he’s up yonder on the mountain.”
“No, it can’t be Del Norte,” agreed Dick. “We will find out very soon who it was, for yonder lies the Sachem.”
As they swung in at the side of the yacht a sailor appeared and watched them come aboard.
Dick questioned the sailor, and both boys were greatly astonished when they were told that the man who had just preceded them was none other than Porfias del Norte.
“He had a bad fall on the mountain, sir,” said the sailor. “His clothes were torn, and he was cut and bruised. Said he slipped and fell over a steep ledge.”