A moment later the man hailed them.
"I beg your pardon," he began, striding up to the two brothers, and shifting his gaze rapidly from one to the other. "But have you seen or heard of a large motor boat going ashore around here? I'm looking for one. There would be a boy in it perhaps—a lad of about your size. Perhaps he put in here to get out of the storm. I've inquired all along the coast, but I can't get any word of him. You haven't happened to have heard anything, have you?"
Frank and Andy looked at each other quickly. At last they seemed on the track of the mystery.
"Was he a tall, dark lad, with black hair?" asked Frank.
"Yes—yes, that's the boy I'm looking for!" exclaimed the man quickly.
"And was the motor boat a long one, painted white with a green water line, and with the engines forward under a hood?" added Andy.
"Yes!" eagerly cried the man, in his excitement taking hold of Andy's coat. "That's the boat! Where is it? I must have it!"
"She's wrecked," said Frank quickly. "We saw her on the Shark's Teeth, going to pieces, and we've been looking for her since, but the boy—"
"Yes—yes! The boy—the boy! What of him? Where is Paul—?"
The man stopped suddenly, and fairly clapped his hand over his own lips to keep back the next word. He seemed strangely confused.