“Run for Mardene and anchor there. Then we can go home on the railroad.”
“All right. Got any cash?”
“Enough for fares I guess.”
It was some hours later when two tired boys entered the Racer cottage, where they found their father and mother not a little alarmed at their absence in the storm which had rapidly developed.
“But we’re on the right track!” cried Frank, with enthusiasm.
“How’s that?” asked his father.
“We saw the mysterious man, and he had your motor boat, Paul.”
“I’m not sure it was my boat,” answered Paul. “I can’t seem to remember that I ever owned one.”
“Well, that man had possession of it, whose ever it was,” went on Andy. “And he was quite threatening, too,” he added, as he related about the brass cannon.
“I’m glad you boys had sense enough to turn back,” spoke Mr. Racer. “Don’t take any chances with such scoundrels. The probability is that he wouldn’t have shot at you, but it isn’t safe to run the risk. But, Paul, is your memory any better for what Frank and Andy have told you?”