“Jack wanted to nose around, that’s all,” Josh hastened to say. “Found an old shack up in the woods here. Guess that spook lives there when he doesn’t want to be seen. Funniest thing, though, he keeps an old rusty useless padlock on the broken door. But there wasn’t anything worth while to be seen. Jack followed some tracks he found; that seemed to amuse him.”
Josh went aboard, pushed the Wireless out, and presently the skipper joined him.
“Any other news?” asked Nick.
“Oh, yes,” said Herb, stopping in the act of changing his soaked clothes for dry ones. “I forgot to say we saw that boat again.”
“What’s that? Do you mean the mysterious, dark, piratical craft that, believe me, ought to be flying the skull and crossbones at her stern?” demanded Nick.
“The same,” Herb replied promptly. “She flashed by us while we were trolling, though at some little distance. And, fellows, as sure as you live, Clarence was at the wheel, though neither of us could see a thing of Bully Joe. I thought Clarence looked scared, for he was awful white; but George declared he was only in one of his mad fits. We know what they stand for, don’t we?”
“Did you call out to him?” asked Jack, quickly.
“I did,” replied George, “and dared him to accept a challenge to race the Wireless. I thought he was going to answer me; but he only turned his head and stared. But it was Clarence, all right. I give you my word on that.”
“Now, what d’ye know about that?” observed Nick; “dodging around like that, and declining to even speak! Generally Clarence is always ready enough to get into a hot argument. And you’d just think he’d be wild to take you up on that challenge business, George. It beats me all hollow, now.”
“And even that ain’t all,” added George.