"Something's happened!" cried Jack. "That sarcasm is so evident in Tom's voice I just can't believe everything is all right."
"Why, nothing at all could have happened," cried Frank. "We've had more than our share of hard luck already. First you boys got off your course with a horseshoe too near the compass. Then you meet a boy who tried to let your fuel leak away. Then you meet the man who bores your ship full of holes, then you find me and we get disturbed by the possibility of Charley's being on that fishing schooner and now the boys have disappeared. It is not possible that someone has stolen our boats. It just couldn't happen. It mustn't happen."
"Well, it's the very thing that did take place," Tom answered. "Now it's a weary wait until they bring the boats back or else we'll walk back to town. I think we'd better start walking now."
"Come on, I'm game," declared Frank wheeling in his tracks. "Does Doright know the way back to town by the pedestrian method?"
"Sure," answered the one mentioned. "Ah knows every hook and crook around these here parts. I've been borned and raised yere."
"Then show us the way to town," entreated Jack. "We're tired."
"Ah kin beat walkin'," replied Doright. "Ah'se got a boat."
The boys capered about in high glee at the prospect of a boat ride so handy. Their enthusiasm was contagious and Doright actually hurried as he went away to the place where his boat was hidden.
In a short time he returned and the boys embarked. The boat was a flat bottomed affair, made for fishing purposes, and was to be noted because of its rugged and simple construction, rather that for being a thing of beauty. Doright handled the craft with skill.
"Now then, engineer," Tom cried flinging himself full length in the bottom of the boat, "let out a link! We're going home!"