“He can’t have been carried off, then,” burst out Billy, “but if he wasn’t, how did that dinghy rope come to be cut?”
Frank made no answer at the moment. The discovery of Harry’s clothes on the beach had put a dreadful fear into his mind. What if the boy had heard a disturbance on the hulk or on the motor boat and, having swum off to see what was the trouble, had been seized with a cramp and drowned?
But Frank firmly thrust the question from him the next minute. Such thoughts were by far too unnerving to be dwelt on. The others remained silent. They seemed to be waiting for Frank to speak. Presently the words came.
“It’s too dark to see anything out there,” said the boy, in as firm a voice as he could command. “Let’s fire three shots—the signal we agreed upon—and then if Harry is on the hulk or the motor boat he will be sure to answer them.”
The others agreed that this seemed about the best thing to do, and Pudge, taking Harry’s discarded weapon, fired it three times. Then came a long pause, filled with an ominous silence.
“Try again,” said Frank in a strained voice. Once more three sharp reports sounded. But again there was no answer.
“That settles it,” declared Frank solemnly; “something has happened to Harry. We must get out to the hulk and to the motor boat.”
“How? The dinghy’s gone, and——”
“I’m going to swim for it.”
Already Frank had thrown off his outer garments. On the beach lay a balk of timber which they sometimes used to tie the dinghy to. Frank now ordered his companions to help in rolling this down to the water.