They lost no time in dressing, and soon joined the others. They all ate a hearty breakfast together, and then set out for the dock. It was a glorious morning. All trace of the storm had vanished, leaving the air clear and cool.
At the Yacht Club dock lay the River Swallow’s tender. A few minutes’ delay occurred while the little craft was stocked up with extra gasoline, for they knew that they might be off on a long chase. But at last everything was ready. Harry took the wheel. Percy Simmons looked after the engine. The three customs men sat at their ease in the stern seat.
“Which way?” asked Harry, as they chugged out into the stream.
“Down the river,” was the reply of Jennings. “We’ll comb the islands first.”
“Let her out,” ordered Harry to Percy Simmons, as they got clear of the dock.
The engine gave a sputter and a roar, and the chase after their missing chum was on.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A DAZZLING DISCOVERY.
With La Rue’s cry still ringing in his ears, Ralph rushed to the edge of the bridge and peered over. Alongside nothing could be seen but swirling, rushing foam.
But suddenly a flash revealed to Ralph the fact that they had run aground on the point of either an island or the mainland, he could not, for the time being, determine which. Trees and rocks could be made out by the frequent flashes, which showed, also, that the River Swallow had grounded bow on, and was now swinging outward with the current.
Ralph was recalled from his observations by a voice behind him. It was Hansen, the Norwegian. The man had stopped his engines, being seaman enough to know what had occurred as soon as he felt the grinding shock of the landing.