“We’d better give notice of our boat being stolen,” said Jerry, “and think of some scheme to get home. After that we’ll have to turn detectives and get the Dartaway.”
The minstrel show was over when the boys went back to the pavilion, and the crowd was coming away. The dock was thronged with persons seeking their boats to make the run for home.
“Hello boys!” called a voice, and they saw Captain Jenkinson, of the Three Bells coming toward them. “You look as if something had happened.”
“Something has,” spoke Jerry. “Our boat’s been stolen.”
“Stolen! You don’t mean it. How?”
Ned related how it had happened, saying nothing however of the conversation he had overheard.
“We’ll tell the manager of the place, and he’ll send out a general alarm,” said the skipper of the Three Bells. “It isn’t the first time boats have been stolen from the docks around here. I believe there’s an organized gang. If we had a decent police force here it wouldn’t happen so often.”
The manager of the pavilion and amusement resort, who was also a sort of deputy sheriff, promised the boys to do what he could to recover their craft. He said he would have notices of the theft posted at his dock and all the other wharves along the coast.
“How you boys going to get home?” asked Captain Jenkinson.