At last a man, who had been closely watching their movements for some time, stepped briskly up to them, and laying a hand on Uncle Phin’s shoulder said:
“Come, get out of here, old man. I’ve had my eye on you ever since you came in, and it’s evident that you have no business here.”
“But, boss, we’se a lookin fer——”
“Yes, I know you are looking for something you won’t find here, so clear out, or else I’ll have to put you out.”
There was no use offering a further resistance to the detective, and so the next minute our two friends found themselves in the street, utterly bewildered, and not knowing which way to turn.
“What do you suppose it all means, Uncle Phin?” asked Arthur.
“Don know, Honey. Hit beat de ole man’s ’sperience, and he don pear to know nuffin about hit.”
“There is something wrong any way,” said the boy, decidedly, “and I think the best thing we can do is to get back to the boat as quick as possible.”
By inquiring they found out in which direction the river lay, and started to make their way to it as fast as they could. It was a long, weary walk, and when they finally reached the river, they spent nearly an hour searching and inquiring before they discovered the bridge near which the Ark had been left.
Now the boat was nowhere to be seen. In vain did they gaze up and down the river. They saw other house-boats, and many strange craft of all descriptions, but nothing that looked in the least like the one that had sheltered them for so long that it seemed like a very home. Then the truth began to dawn upon them. Their boat had been stolen, probably by the very man who had persuaded them to accompany him up-town, and then deserted them.