“We can’t exchange experience for money!” Jule declared, “not always!”
“I’ve jut got to get that cargo,” Frank insisted. “It is too dark to attempt to move out of this narrow creek anyway,” he urged, “and so we may as well remain here until morning.”
“That won’t be very long,” Clay said, “for there is a faint smudge of daylight in the east.”
“If it is most morning,” Alex cried, “that accounts for the empty condition of my stomach. I’m going to get something to eat!”
“That suits me,” Jule grinned, and Case and Clay were not slow in agreeing to the proposition.
Frank seemed lost in thought. He said nothing regarding supper, or breakfast, rather, and sat quietly near the door of the cabin while the boys, now apparently safe from attack, fried bacon and made pancakes and coffee. When the bacon, pancakes and coffee were steaming on the table, Clay turned to the forward deck and called to the boy. But Frank was not there.
It was now quite light in the eastern sky, though the forest still showed dark and dreary. Clay went to the side of the boat and looked down to the place where he had tied the row-boat, which had been brought out soon after the disappearance of the man who had been attacked by the dog. The boat was nowhere to be seen.
“Frank has gone!” Clay shouted.
“He’s determined to have that cargo!” Alex explained. “It is a risky thing to do, this going into the jungle alone, but I can’t say as I blame him!”
The boys did not enjoy their early meal very much, for they were anxious over Frank’s disappearance. They knew well enough where he had gone. The cargo he insisted on securing must be somewhere near the scene of the night’s adventures in the jungle, and he had gone there—alone!