“Looks as if there was nothing to it, after all,” sighed Fred, as they went back to the Firefly to spend the night. “Gee, I sure will be disappointed if we don’t find something!”
The next morning they went out again, taking their lunch with them. The tank was filled with gasoline, and they told Mr. Brooks they would probably not be back before night.
The whole morning was spent in a search as useless as that of the day before. Then, tired out and more than warm, they sat down in the shade of some trees on the shore and there ate their midday meal, washing it down with the water they had brought along.
The land formation at this point was exceedingly irregular, and, having eaten and rested, Jack and Randy strolled off around the shore of a cove which, they presently discovered, opened into another cove.
The boys had moved along the shore of the second cove for a short distance when both of them set up a shout.
“There is something!”
“It’s the wreck of a vessel!”
The shouts attracted the attention of the others and all came hurrying forward to learn what the cries meant. For answer, Jack and Randy pointed across the cove. Here there was a small sandbar and numerous trees and bushes, and half hidden by the latter rested a dismantled yacht almost ready to fall to pieces.
“It must be the Margarita!” exclaimed Fred joyfully.