"Yes, it's time you did something for yourself; you've had us on your hands long enough," remarked Paul.
"Well, we had lots of fun, even if we were marooned, and nearly shipwrecked," declared the young millionaire.
Negotiations for the hire of a small, but swift, steamer were completed the next day, and Dick and his friends went aboard. Of course, Grit went also. Inquiries had failed to throw any light as to who might have stolen Dick's yacht and launch from Stone Island, nor was any trace found of the steamer Princess, containing Uncle Ezra and the men and two youths whom he had hired to kidnap Dick.
"Then, if you can't get any trace, how are you going to know in which direction to search?" asked Beeby. "You can't cover all the waters around Cuba."
"I don't intend to," replied Dick. "In the first place, Captain Barton, and the others of the crew are—or were—aboard my yacht when it was captured. They are either aboard her now or they have been put ashore somewhere by the thieves. In the latter case, we will hear something from them sooner or later, for they'll communicate with us, and we'll get a clue to work on. If they are still held as prisoners, I'll have to adopt a different course."
"And what'll it be?" asked Paul Drew.
"Why, I think our best plan is to sail back to Stone Island."
"Stone Island?" cried Henry Darby.
"Do you mean to camp out there again?" asked Frank.
"No, we had enough of that," answered the wealthy lad. "But I have an idea that the men who stole my yacht have a sort of headquarters on that island. We didn't have time to look for it, but it must be there. What would be more natural than that they will either hang around in that vicinity, or even visit the island."