“We haven’t made a very creditable record,” declared Adrian as they finally ceased rowing and tried to make out where they were. “I hope Capt. Peak did better.”
Considerably crestfallen, the boys turned the boat and rowed for the American shore, where they shortly arrived.
“Well,” said Capt. Peak as they beached the batteau and sprang ashore, “I see you have the boat. Did you get anything else?”
“Nothing but a sore shoulder,” replied Donald ruefully.
“It’s all my fault,” declared Billie. “I ought to have shot the leader instead of trying to capture him.”
“The leader!” exclaimed Capt. Peak. “Was it the leader you were fighting with?”
“Sure!” was Billie’s emphatic reply. “And he’s a good one, too!”
“You ought to know,” laughed the Captain. “It was your old friend, Don Rafael.”
“What!” cried Billie, as he regarded Capt. Peak with a look of blank despair. “Don Rafael! You don’t mean it!”
“That’s what the men say, and I have no doubt they know.”