"Who?" asked Rick.
"Your dog! I can see the marks of his feet! Look, those are a dog's tracks!"
Surely they were the marks of some animal, and when Rick looked more closely at them, in the light of another flickering match, he knew they were made by a dog's paws.
"I wonder if it could be Ruddy?" he murmured. "I wonder?"
"Sure it was," asserted Chot. "I'm a Boy Scout, and I know a lot of different animals' footprints. I can tell a rabbit's when I see 'em in the snow. This is your dog all right, Rick!"
"But where is he?" asked the boy, whose pet had come to him out of the ocean.
"He must be somewhere around here," spoke Tom. "I guess the junk man and the sailor drove here, and left the wagon for the night. Then they went on somewhere else with your dog."
"But where did they go?" asked Rick.
"That's what we got to find out," said Chot. "I'll tell you what we've got to do," he added, drawing his chums toward him, and speaking in a low voice, though no one but the two boys was within hearing distance, as far as the lads knew. "We got to stay here until that junk man comes back after his horse and wagon. Then we'll make him tell us where the dog is."
"S'posin' he won't?" asked Tom.