Pete looked frightened as he realized what it might mean.
"I know one thing we ought to do," he said. "That is let Tom Binns get hold of Dick Crawford right away and tell him about this. There's something mighty funny doing, and I don't think we can get at the bottom of it by ourselves."
"That's a good idea, Pete! Tom's the fastest runner. You get him off by himself and tell him to get Dick Crawford. They'll have to stay around here until their clothes dry off, anyhow, so I guess we can manage to hold them here until he comes back."
Tom had already put on his clothes, and he was able to slip off quietly, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the shivering castaways, who, muffled in blankets that were kept by the Boy Scouts in the hut near the beach, were waiting while their clothes dried out.
When he had gone off Jack and Pete busied themselves with making a fire. It was still raining, but not very hard, but if the clothes of those from the burned boat were to be dried that night a fire was necessary. And, as they worked, Jack got a chance to examine the party more closely.
The men didn't please him very much as he looked them over. They looked like cheap, flashy fellows, who might be fond of drinking and smoking because they thought it made them look like men. Indeed, one of them, as soon as the fire was made, and he had seated himself as close to it as possible, asked Jack if he had a cigarette or the makings of one, and seemed scornful when Jack told him that he never smoked.
The woman who had given Jack so much trouble, too, was hard of face and unpleasant in her speech. She scowled at Jack as if she resented the rough way he had handled her, and seemed entirely forgetful now of the fact that he had had to treat her in just that way to save his life—to say nothing of her own. But the younger girl, whose hair had been on fire when she jumped, was sweet of face, and had been trying to show how grateful she was ever since she had been brought ashore. She looked sadly out of place when compared to her companions, and Jack wondered mightily how she came to be with them. He couldn't say anything about it, however, and he and Pete busied themselves with trying to make those they had rescued comfortable. After all, Jack thought, these people had been in the gravest sort of peril, and it made no difference whether they were pleasant or not. To go to the rescue had been no more than their duty as Scouts, and no Scout is ever supposed to stop and think about personal likes or dislikes when he has a chance to be of service to anyone in trouble or danger and needs help a Scout can give.
Jack, looking around for Pete Stubbs after he had been off to bring up a fresh supply of dry firewood, since the wood all about the fire itself was damp and too wet to burn with the bright heat that was needed to dry the clothes of the victims of the fire, found that his red-headed chum was missing. The two women, in fact, were the only ones about. He looked in surprise for the men of the party, and then spoke.
"Your friends haven't gone off without their clothes?" he said.
"No," replied the older woman. "They've just gone off to have a look at the launch, and they look like red Indians. I'm sure our clothes are taking long enough to dry—and when we get them, I suppose we'll have to walk miles and miles to get anywhere!"