"We're too far away," Midge returned. "But I'll bet a frosted doughnut it was Manheim's boat that rammed us last night! I'll find out!"

Unable to restrain himself, the boy descended three steps to the lower level, there to inspect the craft's hull.

"Hey!" the boat operator shouted as Midge bent to look closely at the mahogany. "What d'you think you're doing?"

"Nothing," Midge mumbled, startled. "Just looking."

"Well, do your lookin' somewhere else!" the man snapped. "Mr. Manheim doesn't want kids hangin' around his boat."

"I'm not doing any harm," Midge defended himself. "I was just noticing a few scratches on your boat. Have you been in an accident?"

"No," the boat operator answered gruffly. "I may have scratched the mahogany a couple of days ago when I was backing out of the berth. Grazed a dock post."

"Oh, I see," Midge said, pretending to accept the explanation. "I thought maybe you might have been in a collision last night."

"Collision! What you drivin' at, you young whelp? Trying to make out it was Mr. Manheim's boat that run into your Dad's sailboat?"

"I didn't say so, did I? Anyhow, how did you know of it?"

"Heard about the accident here at the club," the boat operator retorted.

"Let me tell you something! This boat wasn't away from Skeleton Island last night! And another thing, Mr. Manheim doesn't go around smashing sailboats."

"Who said he did?" Midge demanded, now on the defensive. "I never accused him."

"No, but you're thinking it was this boat that hit yours. Oh, I heard you boys whispering! Well, get this straight! You better not go to Mr.

Manheim with your complaints."

"I'm sorry if I said anything to offend," Midge replied, his voice stony.

"To tell you the truth, I did think maybe it was his boat that struck ours in the dark. If I've made a mistake I apologize."

"You sure made a mistake, kid. Now get going all of you! I want to fill this gasoline tank and get back to Skeleton Island."

Embarra.s.sed by the reprimand, the three Cubs took themselves to the club where they sat on the veranda drinking c.o.kes.

"I sure made the old boy sore," Midge said between sips of the iced drink. "I never intended to accuse him or say anything about the accident. He snapped me up so fast."

"Almost as if he had a guilty conscience," Dan agreed. "Maybe he heard about the accident here at the club the way he said. Then again, maybe he didn't."

"Those scratches on the boat weren't very deep," Midge said thoughtfully.

"All in all, I guess I'd better not exercise my gums too much over the thing. Dad wouldn't like it."

Brad, who had been scanning the morning paper while his companions talked, now uttered a startled snort.

"Say, will you look at this!" he exclaimed, tapping a front page news story. "Guess what happened last night?"

"Break it to us gently, Brad, my boy," Midge laughed.

"It says here that a box of furs valued at $8,500 was stolen last night from Pier 23. So far the police haven't traced the thieves."

Dan relieved Brad of the newspaper and read the account for himself. The story related that during the early hours of the evening, a fast motorboat had pulled alongside of Pier 23 where a box of furs had been piled up with other merchandise for shipment. Before the warehouse watchman had suspected what was happening, the craft with its unknown occupants had sped away into the darkness.

"Say, do you suppose that could have been the same boat that struck us last night?" Dan demanded as he finished reading the story.

"What time did the robbery occur?" Midge asked thoughtfully.

"The story doesn't say. But you remember, the boat was showing no lights, and coming from the general direction of the docks."

"That's true," Midge admitted, impressed. "All the same, Manheim isn't the type of man to get mixed up in a fur theft. In the first place, he has plenty of money."

"We may have been mistaken about it being the Manheim boat," Dan argued.

"In any case, this story about the fur theft is interesting," Brad said, rereading it. "It looks to me as if the river pirates are getting pretty bold when they can pull off a robbery practically under the eyes of the watchman."

"I wish we had more information," Midge remarked. "Pier 23 isn't far from here. Why not go there and see if we can pick up any more information."

The proposal appealed to Brad and Dan. Finishing their drinks, they caught a bus which dropped them off a few minutes later at the commercial area of the river.

Midge, who was fairly familiar with this section of the waterfront, led his companions toward a small warehouse whose corrugated steel door stood slightly ajar.

Inside, an elderly man was taking an inventory of boxes and crates stacked against the wall. A spry, wiry little fellow with white hair and energy that belied his sixty-nine years, he whirled around as he heard the boys enter.

"You startled me," he chuckled, obviously relieved. "After last night, I'm a mite jumpy."

The Cubs noticed then that the warehouse man carried a revolver in a holster at his belt.

"I'm Hank Hawkins, at your service," he announced cheerfully. "What can I do for you youngsters?"

"We'd like a little information about the robbery last night," Dan spoke up. "We're not just asking questions out of curiosity. We may have some information for you too."

"You kids know something about it?"

"We may have seen the boat that pulled away from the pier. We're not sure. What time did the robbery take place?"

"Say, who are you kids anyhow?" the watchman demanded, without answering the question.

Brad gave his name and introduced his companions, explaining that they were Cub Scouts. "I guess you think we have our nerve barging in like this," he added. "We read about the fur robbery in the paper, and we want to learn the details."

"I see." Hank sat down on a packing case to light his pipe. "Well, there ain't much to tell. The Hodur and Fameister firm sent through a box of expensive furs. They were to have been picked up at 10 o'clock last night by the freighter _Albone_. At eight thirty I set out the box along with some others that were to go. Then I stepped back into the warehouse for a minute, and it happened."

"You say the theft occurred about eight thirty?" Dan asked thoughtfully.

"It was about that time. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been dark, but a heavy fog had rolled in."

"Did you see the motorboat and the men in it?" Midge asked.

"Caught a glimpse of 'em as they pulled away-that was all. It all happened so fast. They had that box off the pier and were gone before I knew what was up."

"What sort of boat was it?" Brad inquired.