"I don't believe the yacht will go very far," said Sam. "Maybe old Crabtree merely wants to see what sort of a sailing craft she is."
"We can watch here for a while," returned Dick.
They sat down on a rock and waited, in the meantime discussing
the strange situation. They could reach no conclusion but that
Josiah Crabtree had some plot he wanted to put into execution.
"And it's something underhand, too," was Dick's comment.
At last they grew tired of waiting and almost fell asleep. This being the case they returned to the hotel and made their way to the bed chamber. Soon each was sleeping soundly.
When they awoke the sun was shining brightly—and it was half-past seven o'clock. "All up!" shouted Tom, and dragged Sam out by the foot. Soon they were dressed and made their way to the dining room.
They had scarcely seated themselves when Josiah Crabtree came in and was shown to a seat directly opposite the boys. He did not notice them at first and began to eat a dish of oatmeal silently and rapidly.
Tom nudged Sam, and the younger Rover nudged his oldest brother, and a snicker went up. At this Josiah Crabtree glanced at them carelessly. Then he started back in amazement.
"Why—er—why—ahem—so it is you!" he stammered. "I—er—where did you come from?"
"We came from our bedroom," answered Tom promptly. "Where did you come from, Mr. Crabtree?"
"Why—er—don't be impertinent, Rover. I might say that I
came from my bedroom too."