It would seem that Red Rodgers’ reasons for wishing to rejoin his team were all that one might ask; yet at the very moment he stood there talking with the chubby lighthouse keeper, Drew Lane was telling Johnny Thompson of reasons that to him seemed tremendously important. These reasons had to do with the cause of the kidnaping. Who would not find this a subject of absorbing interest?
Drew Lane possessed an all but superhuman power of finding his way about in the dark. Though he had never before seen Isle Royale, he not only was able to land safely in the channel known as Rock Harbor, but once ashore, he experienced little difficulty in making his way across the ridge to the other channel that lay on the opposite side.
“This,” he said to Johnny as they at last came out upon a short boat landing, “is Tobin’s Harbor. At the back of this harbor the powerful amphibian that carried the Red Rover to Isle Royale lies at anchor. Thus far we are in luck. If the Red Rover is still in their midst we shall be in greater luck. And if we succeed in rescuing him without having our much treasured heads blown off, ours will be the greatest luck in all the world.”
“But whose plane is that amphibian?” Johnny could no longer suppress a question.
“You have a right to know.” Drew Lane’s tone was serious. “It’s quite a story. We have some distance to go. Here’s a boat beside the landing. Probably chained up, but we’ll break her loose. Suppose we get her off? Then you can row while I talk.”
“O.K. Let’s go.”
The padlock that held the boat was a cheap one. Two knocks with a rock opened it as though it were a clam shell.
Ed, the scout, crouching with his dog at the top of the ridge, heard those blows, but wisdom counseled no interference.
Only when the boat was gone did he descend the hill. After skirting the shore for a short distance, he proceeded to drag a light canoe from the center of a clump of bushes where it stood on end, safely concealed. In this, by cutting off at an angle, he was able to keep Drew Lane and Johnny Thompson within striking distance without himself being observed. Did he mean to strike? Perhaps he could not have answered this question himself.
“It’s a curious business.” Drew spoke in low tones, as Johnny with long, strong strokes drove the light rowboat along. “If you hadn’t been in on it perhaps we would have gotten nowhere. You had all the luck.”