"I didn't see it," returned Cub. "Maybe I'm slow."
"No, you haven't got farther than your One's in the addition table. You can add 1 to any other number, but you can't tell how much 2 plus 2 are."
"All right, I'm foolish," admitted Cub. "Spring your joke."
"This is a rather serious situation in which to spring a joke," reminded the "foolish boy's" father. "But didn't you hear me put two and two together when this fellow declared that this island belonged to his father?"
Laughter greeted this sally, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.
"By the way, I wonder if we haven't got this youngster's father a prisoner on the Catwhisker," Mr. Perry continued. Then he turned toward the youth on the cot and inquired:
"Is your father a tall, angular fellow with a smart, flip way of talking, and do his friends call him captain?"
The catapult victim did not answer, but the expression on his face was all the evidence that was needed to indicate what an honest reply would have been.
"I thought so," said Mr. Perry. "Now, would you like to make a trip down to the landing and occupy a stateroom in the Catwhisker with your father? The Catwhisker, by the way, is a yacht in which we made a trip from Oswego, New York, to rescue a boy marooned by some young scamps on this island. After he was marooned, your father and his friends kidnapped him and took him away. Now, what we want to know is, where is he?"
Still the wounded prisoner made no reply.