Case stood looking at the broken rudder for some minutes before he made the discovery that the surgeon and himself were the only persons on the deck.
Then he whistled for the dog, but no Captain Joe came at his call. He took a seat on the railing of the boat with a look on his face which told as plainly as words could have done how disgusted he was. He was not at a loss to account for the condition in which he found things.
“The boys have left the boat, taking the dog with them,” he said. “But what I want to know is why they didn’t come back.”
“They left the Rambler when she was in motion,” said Thede, “and there is a mystery about it which can be explained only by the boys themselves. You can see for yourself that the rudder was never broken except by accident—by collision with the bank.”
“It seems that way to me,” answered Case. “Now the question is, what has become of them?”
“And that is a question that I give up,” answered the surgeon. “You see, we don’t know where to look,” he continued. “We slept soundly all night, and the boys may have left the Rambler as early as midnight, for all we know.”
That was a serious time for what remained of the Rambler crew. The uncertainty of the situation was baffling.
Clay and Paul were soon awake, and the former walked out on deck to discuss the best means for finding the truants.
“If we only knew what time they left the boat,” Clay said, “we could start in on the search with more confidence in the ultimate result. But that is just what we don’t know,” he added, with a discouraged look on his pale face.
“If I knew that the young scamps were safe and sound,” Clay continued, “I should be in favor of leaving them alone for a couple of days. We’ve got to draw the line somewhere, and I think it should be drawn at the desertion of a boat in midstream.”