“No, they leave them for the historical interest they provide for the visitors. You go up to the reception room and you’ll find some there now in the glass case. They are a part of the same crop.”
“That’s all right,” laughed Grant. “It’s an easy way to keep the old people interested.”
By this time the Gadabout had gained the lower point of Drummond Island, thirty-five miles from the place from which they had started more than two hours before this time. Across the narrow channel they saw the shores of Cockburn Island. The latter was within the Canadian boundaries and as the captain of the Gadabout had explained, the boys would not be permitted to fish in the waters along its shore without a special permit from the Canadian officials.
The shore which they were approaching apparently had no buildings of any kind. There were high bluffs and rocky points, but no house was within sight.
“Captain,” called Fred, “why are you taking us to this island?”
“I’m not taking you to this island,” responded the captain. “I’m going to take you past it. I’m not fool enough to try to dodge the Canadian laws.”
Both the captain and his mate were watching the shore of the island, which every moment was becoming more distinct.
Unexpectedly on a bluff far to the left a man was seen standing and suddenly he appeared to become aware of the approaching Gadabout. Turning abruptly about he several times waved a white cloth, which he held in his hand, to parties that apparently were behind him. Then, once more facing the waters, he again waved the cloth. Instantly and with a grin of satisfaction appearing on his face the captain changed the course of his motor boat.
The four boys glanced blankly at one another and for a brief time no one spoke.
It was later when they learned that the signal which they had observed was to mean much, both in excitement and adventure, for all four of the boys on board the Gadabout.