“’Tsanother invisible-ink map,” Poetry said to me, and I remembered quick the other one we’d found which I told you about in another story, and which when we’d warmed it up had turned out to be a map of the territory up here, showing where the little kidnapped girl had been found, and which way the broken twig trails led and we had followed them and finally found the ransom money in the old icehouse.
“And here’s a note,” Poetry whispered, as a little folded piece of paper with writing on it tumbled out.
That note, which was printed in pencil, said,
“Dear Bob:
Santa’s away tonight. Get my boat which is tied to his dock and pick me up at the Indian cemetery at 10 o’clock and we’ll get the rest of the ransom money.... If I’m not there, wait till I come.
Your Dad.”
Well, when I saw what Poetry’s trembling flashlight showed us was written on that unfolded piece of paper, you could have knocked me over with a question mark, I was so surprised. Our mystery had come to life again and we were going to have another exciting adventure before our vacation was over.... Hurrah!... Boy oh boy!
Poetry spoke first, saying excitedly, “I’ll bet Bob’s going down to get the boat right now! We’ve got to stop him!”
“Why?” I said, and he said, “Stop him and make him tell us where his dad is. Then we or the police can capture him.”
“Bob wouldn’t tell us,” I said, being sure he wouldn’t.
“Well, for goodness’ sake, let’s do something!” Poetry exclaimed to me, and when I said “What?” he said, “Get the gang and beat Bob to the cemetery!” which made as good sense as anything I could have thought of, especially since right that minute I heard an outboard motor somewhere and guessed that Bob had already started the powerful black-shrouded motor that was on the boat John Till had had, and which the police had left at Santa’s dock.
We didn’t have time to decide anything right then, though, ’cause almost as quick as a lightning bug can flash his flash on and off, we heard somebody running toward us from the direction of Santa’s cottage and, a second later, two forms came puffing out into the moonlight and into our camp—and it was Big Jim and Circus, who, as you already know, were staying all night in Santa’s cabin, just to sort of look after things for him.