The Gem was a trim little craft, built for speed, as well as good looks, and with all sails set cut the water in a fashion to tickle any nautical heart. More than this, Mr. Felding was a crack yachtsman and knew exactly how to get the best speed out of his craft.
"She certainly is a gem!" was Harry's remark. "What a cruise a fellow could take in such a boat as this."
"Yes, especially if the lake was larger," answered Frank.
A run of an hour brought them pretty well down the eastern shore of the lake. They passed several small sailing vessels, and also some rowboats, but caught sight of nothing that looked like the Sprite. They also questioned some of the people they met but could gain no information concerning the missing sloop.
"They have got into some out-of-the-way place with her," said Mr. Shale. "It's an easy thing to do—with so many coves and creeks handy, and so much woodland and bushes."
At last the search was given up for the time being and the yacht was headed for Lakeport. As soon as they came in sight of the town they saw a crowd collecting at the main wharf to meet them.
"Are they all safe?" was the first question, and when it was answered in the affirmative a cheer went up.
"We thought you might be drowned," said Mrs. Westmore, as she greeted her sons.
"I have passed a sleepless night," came from Mrs. Rush. "Fred, you must not stay away again like that."
"It couldn't be helped, mother," was the answer.