“Dave’s had enough of his friend Sam,” said Tom. “He thinks if Sam meets him again he’ll get a belaying-pin on the back of his head.”
“Benjie wants to argue with them,” said David. “I’ll admit I’d like to get square with the rascal, but I don’t see how we can do it that way.”
“If Dave’s sure it’s the same boat,” suggested Tom, “we might notify the police at Barmouth.”
“Well,” said Ben, “the only way to make sure that Dave’s right is to sail around and look at her in daylight.”
“That sounds sensible,” Tuckerman agreed. “We needn’t get into any kind of a scrap with them.”
So the Argo set sail and cruised eastward; but although she rounded the other island several times that afternoon her crew caught no sight of the bark they were looking for.
When they got back to their own island they found Lanky Larry and Bill Crawford fishing from the pier. The canoe in which they had paddled over from Camp Amoussock floated at the landing-stage.
“If you’re after cunners,” said Ben, “you ought to try the rocks on the ocean side; if it’s flounders you’re trying to tempt you won’t find them near the pier.”
“We didn’t really come over here to fish,” responded Bill, “but we always carry a couple of lines in the canoe; that is, when it doesn’t upset. We came over to invite you four fellows to the water sports to-morrow morning. We’ve got a fine program, and you can enter any of the events when you get there.”
“I guess the Professor will want to enter the tub-race,” said Tom with a grin.