It was not a short row to Crest Island, but Tom did not mind it. Indeed he was rather sorry when the place was reached.
He lost no time in proceeding to the spot where he and his chums had picked up the jewelry box. The place seemed just the same, with no evidence of any other visitors. It was rather early for the Summer crowds to come, and none of the several cottages had opened.
The two spent some time in making a careful search, beginning at the point where the wrecked boat had been found, and working along both shores—that is, after a search at the spot where the box had been picked up. But no brooch rewarded their efforts.
“I guess you’ll have to wait until the other things are located,” said Tom. “Your pin may be among them.”
“Let’s walk on a little farther,” proposed Ruth. “I want to look at Madge Tyler’s cottage.”
“Has Madge a cottage here?” asked the lad, in surprise.
“Her people have taken one for the Summer. Madge has invited us girls to spend several weeks with her. Where are you boys going this vacation?”
“To Crest Island!” replied Tom promptly, though, a moment before, he had had not the slightest idea.
“Oh, you’re just saying that!” challenged Ruth.
“No, really I’m not!” he insisted. “If you girls are going to cottage here, I don’t see why we can’t camp. Other fellows do.”