"Good idea," responded Frank. "Let's do that. Here, Rowdy."
"Fine," declared Jack. "Just the thing, if he'll do it."
But the boys were doomed to another disappointment. Rowdy, after being put on the scent by Tom, circled about a while and then started off in the direction of the leaning oak. Although the boys tried to drive him off that trail a number of times, the bulldog persisted in following that route or none. At last they yielded.
Straight back to the oak went Rowdy. There he stopped and gazed over the water for a moment, then let out a howl that echoed and reechoed across the water.
"Well, here goes back to town," cried Jack. "That dog is all right to do some things, but he isn't much use, of course, as a bloodhound. I can't blame him but he's really no use in that line."
Rowdy felt keenly the disgrace that was heaped upon him. He slunk into the stern sheets and hid behind Frank's legs.
Once more at the shipyard the boys began to think of dinner. Before their preparations could be started, however, the foreman of the work on the Fortuna announced to them that the little vessel was all ready for the water. The plank was repaired, the boat all painted and ready for launching. Nothing was needed except a full crew.
"Let's get her into the briny, then," Jack ordered. "We've had long enough visit ashore. Let's get out to sea again."
"I'm with you there," declared Frank. "It was too bad we were forced to come here at all. I want to be on my way and find the boys. They must be somewhere near here. May be they are purposely hiding."
"Hello, there's your boat back," cried Tom to the day watchman. "And as I live, there's our Petit Bois skiff," he shouted.