Later it was learned that in some way Flynn had learned that Jack Benjamin was in Rockland. As soon as he heard this, he made all haste to get out of the place, taking an electric car to Camden, where he had disappeared as completely as if wiped off the face of the earth.
"But I do not believe you have heard or seen the last of the fellow, Merriwell," said Hodge. "He will bother you again."
Bart's words were destined to come true.
CHAPTER IX.
ALONG THE COAST TO CAMDEN.
"Nellie was a sailor's lass—a sailor's lass was she,
(Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!)
Waiting for her sailor lad, who sailed the deep blue sea.
(Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!)"
Three lads were getting up the anchor on board the White Wings, which lay in Rockland harbor, on the coast of Maine, and they sang a nautical song as they pulled at the cable. They were Bart Hodge, Jack Diamond and Hans Dunnerwust. Frank Merriwell was busy making other preparations for the run up to Camden that glorious summer morning, while Bruce Browning was doing something below, no one knew what.
"Holdt on a vile till you spit on my handts," exclaimed the Dutch lad, breathing heavily. "I vant to got a petter holdt mit my feet to kept from slipping der rail ofer und der varter indo. I vas glad you don'd af to bull ub anchors to make me a lifings."