“Gee, that was fine of you!” Charlie curled up on the couch beside him. “But you see, I can’t very well tell you what happened, because I don’t know!”
“You don’t know?” Osceola’s voice sounded rather gruff.
“Look here, Charlie,” cut in Bill. “This is a serious matter. We’ve got to be on our way soon. You are wasting our time and your own.”
Charlie flushed. “I ain’t kidding you, Mr. Bolton, really I’m not.”
“But there must have been a crew and passengers aboard this ship. Do you mean to say that they disappeared into thin air and you don’t know why or how?”
“Yes, sir, I do. You see, I went below to the trunk room after breakfast. When I came on deck again, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I searched the yacht, but you fellas are the first people I’ve seen since I came up on deck.”
“I reckon you’d better start at the beginning,” said Osceola. “I’ll ask questions and you answer them. And maybe we’ll be able to get somewhere. Suppose you tell us where this yacht was going and who were aboard her at breakfast time?”
“That’s easy,” returned young Evans. “We were out of Boston, bound for Savannah. Dad had business there, so he took Mother and me and Uncle Arthur along. Uncle Arthur is Mother’s brother, you know. The four of us had breakfast together at eight o’clock, and—”
“Woa, not so fast. I suppose somebody skippered this boat?”
“That’s right. Captain Ridley is skipper. I forgot to say that he had breakfast with us, too. And we carry a pretty big crew. I can’t tell you how many without counting them, but I know all their names.”