"Not far from here. Up past the next point. Seems to me I heard one of the boys sayin' this mornin' that there was some wreckage on the reef yesterday. There's none of our boats missin' from hereabouts, so mebby it's them young fellers."
The two motorboats thereupon started for Ragged Reef. The lads were downhearted. They had little hope that they would ever find their two companions alive. The words of the old fisherman struck terror into their hearts.
When they rounded the point they saw the black and ominous line of Ragged Reef before them. A jagged and irregular series of rocks jutting above the surface of the water in the form of a huge semicircle—this was the reef on which the Envoy might have come to grief.
Fortunately, the day was calm so that the searchers were able to venture more closely to the reef than they might have otherwise dared. Frank edged the Sleuth in toward the rocks as closely as possible. Suddenly he gave an exclamation:
"The fisherman was right! There is wreckage there!"
He pointed to a few broken fragments of wood that could be discerned against the rocks. Joe picked up the marine glasses and peered at the fragments for some time.
"It's wreckage of a boat of some kind," he declared gravely, lowering the glasses at last. "But whether it's from the Envoy or not, I couldn't say."
Slim also looked through the glasses. He was able to see more fragments of wreckage farther along the reef.
"Some boat has been battered to pieces along here. There isn't enough wreckage left to tell whether it was a motorboat or a sailing vessel." He scrutinized the mainland. "Nothing there," he announced finally. "Not a sign of life—nor wreckage either. It's all on the reef."
So interested had the boys been in the fragments of broken wood on the jagged rocks that they had not noticed that the motorboat was edging in closer to the reef. There was a strong current at this point and, unnoticed by the boys, the boat was being carried irresistibly forward.