Dave and Roger sat down, to rest and to wait, and thus another half-hour went by. With nothing else to do, Billy Dill took a nap, and the boys allowed the old sailor to slumber on.
“It’s queer the captain and Phil don’t return,” remarked Roger, presently. “They must have gone much further than we did.”
“Maybe they fell into one of those caves, Roger.”
“Oh, I trust not!”
Another half-hour went by and still the others did not put in an appearance. By this time Dave was getting worried.
“Let us take a walk along the shore and look for them,” he said, and Roger agreed, and they started off.
They had covered less than a quarter of a mile when they came in sight of a campfire, well-hidden between the rough rocks back from the water’s edge. Around the campfire were huddled the forms of several men, evidently sailors.
“Perhaps those men are from the Emma Brower,” said Dave, in a low tone.
“I don’t see anything of Captain Sanders and Phil,” remarked the senator’s son.
“No. And yet they must have seen this campfire, if they came this way. What can it mean, Dave?”