It was indeed too bad to have to so change the Water Witch but there seemed no other way out. As Stan knew, they must not be recognized at Porpoise Island as the sloop which had been poking into the affairs of Mr. Nevens. Besides, the Marconi rig should be faster and easier to handle. It would prevent them from going under the bridge at Lape’s Island and mooring at their float-stage but that problem would have to be faced later. Stan and John were sensible enough to realize that their lives hung in the balance and they must meet things as they came.
“Maybe Dad could suggest a new name, John,” Stan said quietly.
“Then we’re going to let him in on the case, Stan?”
Stan grinned in the darkness.
“Sure—of course. I wouldn’t dare to do this unaided! We can take care of the changes in the boat and do a lot of detective work alone but, in the showdown, if this Mr. Nevens is a big criminal the F. B. I. has got to be in to take the men prisoners. Say, Dad will think us a couple of fools for luck, won’t he! We go on a pleasure cruise, and right smack into more trouble!”
They rounded Point Zenith under the red gleams of the blinking lighthouse and came to an anchor in a secluded spot. As the sails came down and were stropped for the night, Stan explained what else he had in mind.
“We’ve got to get to Centerport after disguising the boat, John, and get in touch with Dad. Then we’ll have to get our new mast and sails out and rigged soon. We’ve got work ahead of us!”
“And what gets me, Stan, is—why won’t Mr. Nevens and his playful boys recognize you and me even if they don’t know the new sloop?”
“Simple. He’s only seen us a matter of an hour or so, except for the pictures the newspapers printed, and all we have to do is change our clothes to something quite different from our usual ones to disguise ourselves. Hats will help a lot!”
“Do you suppose,” asked John, “that a lavender and pink sweater in stripes would be inconspicuous?”