"It is, as sure as you live!" muttered Paul, as he turned to look at the dapper racing craft stealing up alongside the island with a constant rapid popping from the exhaust.
"But how's this? I thought you said you saw Lef Seller at the wheel when it went down the river a while ago? That doesn't look like Lef now, does it?" cried Frank.
"How strange! Helen, look, isn't that Lanky Wallace at the wheel?" said Minnie.
"It surely is," came the dazed reply.
"I begin to smell a rat," muttered Frank, remembering the strange absence of Lanky after the races had been run; "wait till I give him a hail, and we'll find out what he's doing, running another fellow's launch!"
CHAPTER XXII
LANKY LIFTS THE VEIL OF MYSTERY
"Ahoy, there, Lanky!"
The boy at the wheel of the racing launch looked quickly toward the head of the island. He must have seen and recognized the group, for he waved his hand.
"Come ashore! We want you to give us a tow home!" called Frank, making a trumpet of his cupped hands.