"I hope our boat's safe," mused Frank as they headed for the place where they had left it. "I don't fancy swimming out to the Gull."
"Oh, it will be all right," asserted Andy confidently. "There she is," he added a moment later, as he made the turn around a jutting rock. "She hasn't been moved since we slept under her."
Together they approached their boat. As he neared it Frank looked critically at some marks in the wet sand—a series of footprints all about the craft.
"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to them.
"Well, what about it?" asked Andy calmly. "You and I made them."
"It rained since we were here night before last," said Frank in a low voice, as if afraid someone would hear him. "Our footprints would have been washed away. Someone has been here since—a man——"
He paused and looked down the beach. An indefinable something had attracted his attention. The next moment he grasped Andy by the arm.
"There he is!" he exclaimed.
And there, about a quarter of a mile away was a man, standing beside a big wrecked motor boat that was drawn up on the beach. It was the mysterious personage for whom the Racer boys were searching.