"Sure," assented Frank. "And if you see or hear anything of that motor boat up or down the coast, let us know. Maybe we can save it, and find out something about this boy from it, in case he isn't able to tell."
"I'll do it," promised the captain's son.
"And if you see a wounded whale, it belongs to us," added Andy.
"A wounded whale?" gasped Bob. "Are you stuffing me? This isn't
Thanksgiving."
"It was a whale all right," went on Andy, playfully poking his brother in the ribs, "and it stove in my boat. If I could catch the beggar I'd sell his hide or oil or whatever is valuable about him, and get a new boat."
"Does he mean it?" asked Bob, turning to Frank, for the younger Racer lad was well known for his practical jokes and his fun-loving characteristics.
"Yes, we did get rammed by one just before we went out in the Gull," said Frank, a bit solemnly, for the events of the past few hours had made quite an impression on him. Then he briefly told the story of the monster's attack.
"We didn't say anything to your father about it when we came in," explained Andy, "as we didn't want to be delayed. But if you see or hear of that whale, don't forget he belongs to us."
"I won't," declared Bob. "Now I've got to hustle, as it's almost supper time."
"Supper!" cried Andy. "That reminds me, we haven't had dinner yet,
Frank."