"When I asked him, as I did several times, and as also did your mother, he would begin, 'I am——' Then he would stop, pass his hand across his forehead, and look puzzled. He did this a number of times, and it seemed to pain him to try to think. So I gave it up."
"How do you account for that?" asked Andy.
"Well, the fright and injuries he received may have caused a temporary loss of memory," replied the doctor. "Or there may be some injury to the brain. I can't decide yet. But I'll look in again this evening. He'll be much improved by then, I am sure."
"It's getting queerer and more queer," commented Andy, as the physician hastened away in his car. "Think of forgetting who you are, Frank!"
"It sure is too bad. We must try to help him. That motor boat would be a clue, I think. As soon as the weather gets better, and this storm blows over, we'll have a search for it."
"Yes, we're in for a hard blow, I think. It's a worse gale now than when we were out."
The wind, which had momentarily died out, had sprung up again with the approach of night, and it began to rain. Out on the bay, a view of which could be had from their house, the boys could see big tumbling billows.
"It's a good night to be home," mused Frank. "I'm afraid we'll never see that wrecked motor boat again. It will pound to pieces on the Shark's Teeth."
"Very likely. Well, let's go in and see how much nearer supper is ready. Dad's home now."
It was rather a long and dreary night, with the storm howling outside, and Frank, who had the last watch, was not sorry when the gray daylight came stealing in. The unidentified lad had slept soundly, only arousing slightly once or twice.