"I'm sure it is," declared Dick Travers; "I'd know Hackett's thin figure a mile away."
"I don't even mind losin' them furs—if that's the cap'n an' mate, safe an' sound," exclaimed Yardsley, heartily. "Tell the truth, I ain't had a minute's rest fur thinkin' about 'em."
"Hi, hi—hey!" yelled Nat; "hello, Hacky—whoop!" and he waved his hand frantically in the air.
An answering call reached their ears.
"My goodness, but I'm glad," cried Sam Randall, enthusiastically. "This is the best moment of the trip."
"I knew they would turn up all right, though," commented Dave Brandon. But his shining eyes and tone indicated a feeling of the greatest relief. "What is that they have with them—a dog, or what?" he asked abruptly.
"Most likely a 'What,'" grinned Nat.
"Some four-legged critter, sure enough," put in Tim Sladder.
"Bless you," began Yardsley—he shaded his eyes—"what can it be? Youngsters," he added, in a surprised tone, "the cap'n an' mate's got a fawn. Did you ever hear the beat of it? Really—if I ain't surprised!"
"Christopher! They must be getting a menagerie together," observed Nat Wingate, wonderingly.