"Just wonderful!" agreed Grace. "I hope you liked it, Aunt Mary," she said to an elderly relative who had gone along as a chaperone.
"Oh, yes, it was nice," was the reply. "But it was a bit damp."
"Always is on the water! Ha! Ha!" chuckled a youth clad in a very gay sweater. Then Grace caught sight of Tom and Ned.
"Oh, Mr. Swift! So glad to see you!" she cried. "Mr. Barton tried to get word to you and Mr. Newton to come on our excursion, but Mary said he couldn't reach you. She said you'd gone to Dismal Mountain. Did you go there?"
"Yes," answered Tom, shaking hands, "I did. Where is Mary now?" he asked, scarcely able to restrain his impatience.
"Oh, she and Mr. Barton must be down in the cabin yet," was the answer. "I thought she came off, but she evidently remained to——"
Tom Swift did not stop to hear the remainder of the sentence. He strode aboard the boat, made his way toward the cabin, but halted outside the door at the sight of two figures in the room. Ned could look over his chum's shoulder and see Mary with Floyd Barton standing close to her. The approach of the recent prisoners was so silent that the two in the cabin had not heard them.
"Now, Mary, why can't you be nice to me?" Floyd was saying, as his arm went toward the girl who seemed to shrink away from him. "I gave you a nice time, didn't I?"
"Yes, Mr. Barton, it was a lovely party."
"Why don't you call me Floyd?"