Bill and Jack impatient and worried, for they could not see the small boat anywhere about, commandeered a canoe and paddled to the anchored cruiser.
“The boys have not come back,” said Mr. Gray uneasily when they came alongside. He told how he had given them permission to go to the river. Andy, summoned, was crestfallen and alarmed. He related his suggestion to the youths and Bob said that he had not been asked to be one of the party.
“We will take the canoe and paddle over,” said Bill. “No time to waste. It won’t be over-long till dark.” Without further word he and Jack paddled toward the mainland. They worked swiftly, for both knew that time was of supreme importance if any harm had come to their younger comrades.
“You don’t think the Indians?—” began Jack.
Bill shook his head.
“Here they come, anyhow,” he stated, pointing with his paddle to the fleet appearing at the river mouth. “We’ll ask.”
The canoes seemed to be bent on avoiding them, but Bill drew out a soiled but fairly white handkerchief and waved it, then beckoned. A canoe containing several younger women veered closer and the paddles ceased to sweep the glassy water.
“You see boat—boys?” hailed Bill.
One of the women nodded and pointed back the way they had come from the river.
“They’re back there,” Bill told Jack. “They must be all right. But we’d better go on and make sure.”