“A boat!” interrupted Frank eagerly. “Did he say what kind? Was it a damaged motor boat?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask him. I arranged with him to take my Spray and he was to come to-day and get her. Now you see what happened.”
“We’re sorry to have spoiled your business,” spoke Frank regretfully, “but perhaps it’s just as well you didn’t hire that man your boat. I don’t believe he’s to be trusted,” and he told about the suspicion they had that the stranger had already been seen towing a disabled motor boat with a gasolene craft.
“The question is, where has he left the damaged boat—Paul’s boat?” went on Andy. “This thing is getting more and more complicated. Why should he want a sailboat to go out and tow in the motor craft, when he was seen in a power vessel yesterday?”
“Maybe whoever owned the power vessel took it away from him,” suggested Frank.
“I wouldn’t wonder but what you’re right!” exclaimed Jim Hedson, slapping his big palm down on his broad leg. “Now I think of it, I didn’t like the looks of that man. He wouldn’t look you square in the eye, but kept shifting around. I’m just as glad I didn’t hire him my Spray, and I’m sorry I took you fellows up so short. I’ll keep a lookout for that man, and if I see or hear anything of him I’ll let you know. You’re cottaging over Harbor View way; aren’t you? I think I’ve seen you there.”
“Yes, we’re the Racer boys,” replied Frank, “and we’ll be obliged to you if you can put us on the track of this man. It isn’t so much for our sake, as that we want to find out who Paul Gale is.”
“Paul Gale!” exclaimed Mr. Hedson. “That’s a good name for the lad found as he was. Well, I’ll do my best.”
“Where to now?” asked Andy, as he followed his brother up the street.
“To the fertilizer factory. I think we can make a deal with them about our whale better by talking than over the telephone.”