"And we'll see what we can do on our own account," announced Frank, as a little later he assisted his brother to hoist the sail on the Gull. Soon they were standing out of the harbor under a brisk wind which heeled their craft well over. They knew it was practically useless to expect a sight of the mysterious wreck until they were well out, and so they gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the trip, talking at intervals of many things, but principally of the strange lad still quartered at their house.
"Poor Paul Gale!" said Frank. "It must be hard to lose your memory that way."
"Sure," agreed Andy. "Not to know who your father or mother is, or whether you have any, or whether you are rich or poor—it sure is tough."
"I think he must be well off, as I've said before," declared Frank. "But that's as far as I can get. If there was only some way of getting on the track of that strange man who seemed to know Paul, we could do something."
"But he's disappeared completely," said Andy. "He sure did make a quick getaway the day we met him on the sands."
Frank, who was steering, changed the course of the Gull. As he did so Andy suddenly stood up, pointed off across the slowly rolling waves, and cried out:
"Look there!"
"What is it, the motor boat or the whale?" asked Frank.
"It's a boat, but look who's in it. The mysterious man!"
A short distance away was a dory, containing one person, and it needed but a single glance from the eyes of the Racer boys to tell them it was indeed the tall, dark stranger who had acted so oddly after questioning them about Paul Gale. The man was rowing slowly and awkwardly, as if unused to the exertion, but as the sea was fairly calm he was not having a hard time, especially as the dory was built for safety.