"Why there were four of them on the underside of the raft."

"Tanks? You're sure?"

"I certainly am. They were long and flat and made of metal. Tim was wedged between them, his trousers snagged on a nail."

"Maybe they were gasoline tanks."

"They looked like it. But why would the raft need so many? These tanks would hold fifteen or twenty gallons each."

"Another thing, the gas tank that feeds the motor is on the top side of the raft," Brad said thoughtfully. "It does seem queer. You told Mr.

Hatfield?"

"I aim to. He was too busy working on Tim."

Dan finished dressing and the two boys sought the warmth of the fire.

Tim, wrapped in blankets, was brought there.

The other drenched Cubs were lent clothing by the more fortunate boys of Den 2.

Presently Mr. Manheim returned from across the river. Informed by Jabowski as to what had occurred, he was profuse in his apologies for the mishap.

"I can't understand how it happened," he said to Mr. Hatfield. "Why, we've transported lumber and very heavy objects on that raft. We never had an accident before."

"There's always a first time," the Cub leader replied. "Fortunately, no serious harm has been done. But it was a miracle the raft upset at the dock and not in mid-stream."

After Mr. Manheim had taken the Den 1 Cubs ash.o.r.e in the motorboat, the Skeleton Island camp settled down for the night.

Not until then did Dan have opportunity to tell Mr. Hatfield of seeing the gasoline tanks beneath the raft.

"I think that's what made it upset," he declared. "When the load shifted, all the fuel ran to the same side."

"Fuel tanks on the underside of a raft," Sam Hatfield mused. "That seems odd. Why would a raft need such large carrying capacity?"

"Maybe to supply another boat."

"But Mr. Manheim's motorcraft has a large tank. It doesn't make sense to me."

"I figure Jabowski's been supplying that motorboat Brad and I saw signal from across the river," Dan said.

"He may be selling Mr. Manheim's gasoline and picking up a little extra money for himself, Dan. I wouldn't put it past him. That, I suppose, would explain those tanks underneath the raft."

"I'm wondering too if Jabowski may not be mixed up with the river pirates."

Mr. Hatfield gazed at the boy in amazement.

"Hold on, Dan!" he exclaimed. "You're going too fast for me."

"No one likes Jabowski," Dan argued. "He has no friends. I know because I've inquired."

"The man isn't very likeable, I'll grant, but to accuse him of being a crook is something I wouldn't venture to do."

"I'm not accusing him, Mr. Hatfield. I'm only wondering. You recall, on the night the furs were stolen, a motorboat almost like Mr. Manheim's tore into Mr. Holloway's sailboat."

"I remember, Dan."

"Since then, police have watched the waterfront for that boat. Especially gasoline outlets."

"I've read so in the papers, Dan."

"According to the stories, police have been puzzled as to where the boat owners put in for fuel."

"I see you're well informed on the subject, Dan," Mr. Hatfield said, smiling.

"I've read every word, because I'm interested. Maybe those river thieves have moved out of here, but I have a hunch they're just biding their time before pulling another job."

"Be that as it may, Dan, the Cubs can't afford to mix themselves in any such business. As I said before, if I thought Skeleton Island had become a hideout for the river thieves, I'd never recommend that this camp site be bought."

"But if we don't investigate, how can you know if the camp's really safe?" Dan argued.

"So that's where this conversation has been pointing," Mr. Hatfield chuckled. "You're proposing that the Cubs do a little sleuthing before we leave here?"

"Couldn't we?"

"What could we learn, Dan?"

"I'd like to find out more about Jabowski and his habits. I have an idea, Mr. Hatfield, if you'd hear of it."

"What is this idea, Dan?"

"You know that game we sometimes play of 'Follow the Trail.' One Cub goes ahead and lays out a trail which the others tried to follow."

Mr. Hatfield nodded. "It's excellent training in observation for the Cubs."

"Well, I thought, if you're willing, we might lay the trail across the island and around Jabowski's place. The Cubs could be instructed to notice anything unusual and report."

"Spy out the old hotel, you mean?"

"That's right. Maybe it wouldn't net anything. Then again, we might pick up considerable information about Jabowski."

Mr. Hatfield thought the matter over for a moment.

"We'll be here only one day longer," he said. "If we tried out your idea, it would have to be early in the morning."

"Then we may do it?"

"I'll think it over," Mr. Hatfield replied in a tone which was a half-promise. "Get to sleep now, Dan. We'll talk further of this tomorrow."