“My idea is that they steered for some point between the two places,” I ventured to suggest. “They knew better than to sail right for any town on the lake; for the news has spread, and they would be likely to be captured as soon as they set foot on shore.”
“That’s so,” said Captain Harley. “Most likely they landed in the woods, and came into town by a back way.”
“I advise that we look for the boat at a point equally distant from both places,” I went on. “If we can find the craft, we may get on the trail at once.”
This was deemed the best thing to do, and Ford changed the course accordingly.
“Perhaps they didn’t go to any town at all, but struck the road for Chester,” said Pointer. “Of course they wish to get away as far as possible.”
It took us all of an hour and a half to come within easy sight of the north-east shore of Rock Island Lake. We had hardly done so before Ford uttered a cry.
“That is where they landed! See, there is the Catch Me now!”
Everybody looked, and we saw that he was right; for there, in an inlet, was the sloop tied to a clump of bushes. In two minutes we had reached the spot, and jumped ashore.
“Here are the marks of their feet,” said Pointer; “but see, they seem to spread out, as if the three of them separated.”