Without waiting to reply, the three boys quickly freed the skiff which the cat-boat had been towing, and Jock and Bob, each taking a pair of oars, began to row swiftly over the river. They had no definite idea as to just where it was best to go, but they kept on their way back toward Alexandria Bay, hoping that somewhere they would discover Ben paddling to meet them in his canoe. Their strongest hope was that he had landed somewhere before the storm broke, and now that it was gone, would be on his way back to the camp.
They had been gone about a quarter of an hour, when Bert, who was seated in the stern, exclaimed, “There’s a canoe up ahead, fellows, but there’s no one in it.”
His companions stopped rowing for a moment and glanced eagerly behind them. Then with redoubled speed they began to move toward the drifting canoe. Soon they had overhauled it, and a low cry escaped Jock’s lips when he recognized it at once as the one which had belonged to the missing Ben.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE SEARCH.
The feeling of gloom in the hearts of the boys was reflected in the dusk which now had settled over all. The sun had disappeared, and the blaze in the western sky seemed weird and unnatural. The silence that rested over the river was so intense that it almost seemed as if they could hear it, if such a thing were possible. For a moment the boys looked blankly at one another, but no one seemed willing to give utterance to the fear which evidently possessed them all.
Jock was the first to speak, and as he reached over and grasped the canoe to make it fast to the skiff, he said in a low voice, “This is the worst yet, fellows. I’m almost afraid to go on.”
“We’ll have to go, whether we’re afraid or not,” said Bob.