But the boys found no answer to their questions, though they made diligent search.
"I don't believe it's here," said Andy at length. "Whatever there was Paul must have taken away before he lost his memory, and he may have hidden it somewhere else. But I have another plan, Frank?"
"No jokes, I hope."
"No, this is serious. The more I think of staying here with that man all night, the less I like it."
"I don't like it either, but what can we do! Dad may think we're staying away too long, and he may come for us. He knows we started for Cliff Island. Then again he may not come for several days, as he knows we've got lots of food. And our distress signal doesn't seem to attract any attention."
"No, and that's why I think we oughtn't to stay here any longer. It is very seldom that vessels come here, and we haven't much chance of being taken off. We ought to get away and in the path of the fishing schooners. Then we would be picked up."
"Yes, but how are we going to get off? We haven't a boat."
"I know, but we can make a raft. There's no end of wood here, and we have plenty of rope left after tying that man up, with which to bind the planks together. There are some nails in that motor boat wreck, too, and some tools. We could make a raft good enough to take us far enough out so we would be picked up. We might even make the main land. There are two paddles in the Swallow."
"What are we going to do with him—leave him here?" and he nodded toward the prisoner.
"We'll have to take him along," said Andy. "We're not going to lose him after we had so much trouble in finding him."