"Someone's been here since we were!" he exclaimed, stooping to examine the shoe print.

"And that someone must have set our boat free to drift, Brad!"

"Jabowski?"

"Could be, Brad. He took a dislike to me, I know."

"Even so, it would be a contemptible trick. I hate to think he'd do it."

"Who else is on the island?"

"No one so far as I know," Brad replied, his eyes troubled. "Well, it's a relief to know the boat didn't drift off due to our own carelessness.

Even so, we're in a jam."

Dan nodded, his face sober. The afternoon had grown dark and night would come on earlier than usual. When the sailboat failed to return to the clubhouse, he knew Mr. Holloway would be very worried.

"We'll be picked up eventually," he said, shivering in his wet clothing.

"Meanwhile, we're in for an uncomfortable time of it."

"Let's find Jabowski's place," Brad proposed. "He might be willing to pick up our boat with his raft, or at least take us ash.o.r.e."

"Think he'd do it? After the way he set our boat loose-"

"We may suspect he did it, but it could have been someone else, Dan.

Anyway, isn't it better than standing here?"

"Sure," Dan agreed. "It's our only chance."

From the beach, the boys could see no buildings on the island. However, from previous sails in the locality, they knew that the old hotel building was situated in a heavily wooded section to the north.

Setting off diagonally through a thicket of saplings, they found a trail which led in the direction they wished to go. After wading through a patch of weeds and rushes which came to waist-depth, they emerged into an area of thin green turf.

Beyond they spied the old hotel, a sprawling building with grimy windows and broken shutters. Unpainted in recent years, it had a look of utter abandonment. The foundation had crumbled in many places and the roof sagged. Broken window panes in the upper story windows had not been replaced.

"Why, the place is deserted," Dan said in disappointment.

"Then why is smoke coming from the chimney?" Brad demanded. Trained as a Scout to be observing, he had noticed the blue-white wisp curling from the rear of the building.

"You're right. Someone must be there now. Let's knock."

They pushed on, circling the old building. Brad rapped on the rear door.

There was no answer.

He pounded. Still no one came to the door. Glancing upward, however, Dan fancied he saw a face at a dirt-streaked window almost directly overhead.

Before he could be sure, the shadow was gone.

"It's no use," Brad said, after rapping again on the door. "Someone must be living here, but the place seems to be deserted now."

"Either that, or Jabowski's hiding out. I thought I saw a face at the window."

"Where, Dan?"

The younger boy indicated the window.

"No one there now," Brad said. "But I think you may be right. Ever since we came here, I've had a feeling as if we're being watched. There's something about this place I don't like."

Convinced they were to obtain no help from the caretaker, the boys sought an easier route back to the beach.

Not far from the rear of the hotel, they noticed an abandoned pier which had fallen into decay. Tied to it was the same raft they had observed earlier that afternoon.

Farther down the sh.o.r.e extended a long stretch of loose sand which gradually merged into turf and wooded area.

"Wonder if that tale Mr. Hatfield told us about the tunnel is true?" Brad speculated as they dog-trotted along. "No evidence of it anywhere around."

Without seeing anyone, the boys struck across the dunes, and finally emerged on the beach not far from where they first had taken refuge.

Gazing down-river, they sought to determine the position of their drifting boat. To their astonishment it was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, for crying out loud!" Dan yipped. "Now what became of it? How could that boat have drifted out of sight so fast?"

"It couldn't. Either someone has hauled it in or-"

"Or what?" Dan demanded as his companion broke off.

Instead of answering, Brad pointed far upstream. The missing sailboat had been taken in tow by a motor launch from the Yacht Club.

"There goes our boat now, Dan! And with it our chance for a rescue."

"Let's yell. Maybe we can attract attention."

In unison, the boys shouted and waved their arms. Running far down the beach, they watched the receding launch anxiously.

"They see us!" Brad cried in relief. "She's turning around."

True to his observation, the motor craft had come about. With the sailboat still in tow, it set a direct course for the island.

"Lucky break for us," Brad mumbled in relief. "I had visions of spending the night on this place."

Within a few minutes the launch came close to the island. Brad and Dan saw then that Mr. Hatfield was at the wheel, accompanied by Midge, Red and Chips. The owner of the launch, a man they did not know, also was in the boat.

The Cub leader eased the craft as near sh.o.r.e as he could. When the launch could approach no closer without grounding, he advised Brad and Dan to wade out. Eager hands pulled them over the side into the launch.

"We've been worried about you," Mr. Hatfield said, wrapping his coat about Dan. "Didn't Midge's father warn you to remain close to the clubhouse?"

"He did, sir. We meant to carry out his orders. But a lot happened."

"We'll discuss that later, Dan. The important thing is that you're both safe. By the way, meet Mr. Fisher."