“What’s wrong—somebody hurt, or are ye going to a funeral?”
“No funeral,” answered Dave, with a forced laugh. “But we are in a hurry to find those three fellows.”
“Well, I don’t see no motor-boat yet,” answered Jack Laplow.
“One thing is certain: if it went up the river it’s got to come down,” said Roger.
“They may get out and send it back,” answered our hero.
“But, Dave, surely you don’t think––” But Dave put up his hand for silence and nodded in 185 the direction of the boatman; and the senator’s son said no more.
A mile and a half were covered, and they were just passing one of the many islands in the river, when Jack Laplow gave a shout.
“There is the motor-boat now!”
“Boat ahoy!” shouted Dave, and then, as they drew closer, he saw that it was really the Kingsley craft. He was chagrined to see that only a man was on board, a fellow who was running the boat very slowly.
“Where are those boys who were aboard?” demanded our hero, as the motor-boat came closer.