"Oh, we will answer for that," Hazel assured him, "just get the boat. We will go up the lake."
"Yes, you've got it right. Up the lake, fer I saw Tony comin' down the lake."
Only Hazel understood him. He, too, suspected the man of many names.
It was not more than five minutes later that Dan brought the small motor boat from the dock, and scarcely more than another five minutes passed before the girls were off.
There were many small boats dotted about the water, and the girls looked keenly for the flag of the Petrel which they could have distinguished even in the darkness for the white head-light always showed up its maroon and white, but old Ben took no heed of the craft in the lower end of the cove. He headed straight for either Far or Fern Island—the twin spots of land far away.
Out in the broadest part of the water they suddenly came upon a rowboat without a light.
"Look out there!" shouted Ben. "Where's your light?"
There was no answer. Ben turned as far out of his course as it was possible to do at the rate his own boat was running.
"There is no one in that boat," declared Hazel. "See, it is just drifting."
"Might be," said Ben, throttling down his gasoline so that he might turn nearer the other craft for inspection.