Frank shook his head, and sighed.
"It might be," he said, "but if they were close by don't you think they'd call out to us, and let us know?"
"But they were wet, and might have started for home by land. The road doesn't keep in sight of the river all the way, and we may have missed them."
They had already dragged the boat in closer to the shore now.
"Why, what's this—the anchor's down!" exclaimed Paul, suddenly.
"So it is. Now, that's odd. How do you suppose that ever came? And so far as I can see up to now, there's not a sign of a smash, so it doesn't look as if they had been run into. Pull again, until we'll get her up on the shore and turned over to let the water out."
As he spoke Frank jumped out into a foot of water, and laid hold with a will. Paul ran the bow of his craft up on the sandy beach and followed suit. Between them the green boat was pulled high on the shore.
"What did I say—nary a break, do you see. Paul, there's something mighty mysterious about this affair. Who sunk this boat, I'd like to know, and anchored her so securely she couldn't drift away down-stream?"
"And, where are Helen and Minnie?" echoed the other, looking over the surface of the running river with an expression of dire dismay.
"I don't believe any accident has happened to them at all," declared Frank, stoutly, as he shut his teeth hard together.