"h.e.l.lo, Jack!" cried Larry Dixon to a sailor on the schooner, and the fellow addressed waved his hand.

"I'll talk to that man a minute," said d.i.c.k, to the captain. The latter wished to demur, but d.i.c.k gave him no chance. The fellow was told to go aboard the tug, and there Larry Dixon asked him to tell his story. The sailor had little, however, to add to what his captain had said, excepting that the landing at Chesoque Island had been made in something of a hurry.

"Here's a dollar for you," said d.i.c.k, on parting. "Whenever the schooner makes a landing anywhere, you send me word where she is," and he gave the tar his home address and also the address of a hotel in Portland.

"Don't try to get me into trouble and I'll tell you everything I know!"

shouted the captain of the schooner, as the steam tug went on its way.

"I'll remember you!" answered d.i.c.k, somewhat grimly. He did not know whether he could trust the captain or not.

Leaving the entrance to Portland Harbor, the tug steamed up into the waters of Cas...o...b..y, that beautiful spot with its scores of verdant and rocky islands. As it was the height of the summer season they pa.s.sed many pleasure boats, big and little. Once they pa.s.sed an island where a big picnic was in progress and they heard the music from a band quite distinctly. They also pa.s.sed Peak's Island where there was a big, round-topped structure, which the captain of the tug said was a famous summer theater.

"A fellow could certainly have a dandy time here, cruising around among the islands," was Tom's comment.

From Larry Dixon the boys learned that Chesoque Island was away from most of the others, lying far out in the Bay. It was a rocky place, and there was a story that once a band of smugglers had used it for a rendezvous.

It was also said to be inhabited by numerous snakes.

"Excuse me, but I don't want to run up against any snakes," said Sam, shuddering.

"Neither do I," added Tom.

"No snakes shall stop me from trying to locate Mrs. Stanhope," said d.i.c.k.

"More than likely the story about snakes has little foundation to it."

"Like the story about the snakes back of Putnam Hall," said Tom. "Old Farmer Landell said there were thousands of 'em, and he and his son killed exactly five, and only little ones at that."

Presently a distant sh.o.r.e loomed up and after an examination Larry Dixon declared it was the island for which they were seeking.

"Are you sure?" questioned d.i.c.k. "This is very important, and we don't want to make any mistake."

"I know the spot," answered the old tar. "See that old building? The lobster catchers used to use that. And see that rock? There is where the old John Spurr struck, in a storm one winter."

"Well, I don't want to strike anything," said Captain Wells, and ordered the engineer to reduce speed. Then, with great caution, they approached what had once been a good dock, but one which was now practically in ruins.

"h.e.l.lo, there's a motor boat!" cried Sam, as they came closer. Then all looked and saw that a gaudily-painted motor boat was tied up on one side of the old dock.

"Say, that looks like the motor boat Koswell, Larkspur and that stranger had!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.k.

"It is the same!" shouted Tom. "There is the name, Magnet. Now what do you think of that!"

"What do I think?" said d.i.c.k. "I think they must be here."

"With Sobber and the others?"

"I don't know about that. I didn't think they knew Sobber."

As the steam tug drew up on the other side of the dilapidated dock, those on board saw three persons rush from the old building nearby. They were Koswell, Larkspur and the fellow who had been running the motor boat.

"Say, I won't have this!" roared Koswell. "You get out of here, and be quick about it!"

"Can't we stop 'em from landing?" asked Larkspur. He was plainly scared.

"You can't land here!" called out the young man who had run the Magnet.

"This is private property. I forbid you coming in."

"Private property?" called out Captain Wells.

"That is what I said." And now the young man turned to his companions and a whispered, but animated conversation ensued.

"Who are you?" asked d.i.c.k.

"I am Alfred Darkingham. This island belongs to my uncle, John Darkingham. He gave us permission to come camping here, and said we needn't let anybody else come ash.o.r.e. I forbid your making a landing."

"That's the way to talk, Alf!" cried Koswell, in a low, but earnest voice. "Make 'em stay away."

"Yes! Yes! don't let 'em come ash.o.r.e!" added Larkspur.

"Mr. Darkingham, I'd like to talk to you," said d.i.c.k, as the steam tug b.u.mped against the dock.

"Don't you listen to him, Alf!" cried Koswell. "He only came to make trouble."

"Make him go right away," added Larkspur.

"I want you to leave," ordered Alfred Darkingham. Evidently he was a close crony to the boys who had run away from Brill.

"I want to ask you a few questions," pursued d.i.c.k, firmly. "And I'll not go away until you answer them-and maybe not then."

"This is private property, and-"

"You said that before. What I want to know is, Do you know the other persons on this island?"

"There are no other persons."

"I believe otherwise. A lady has been abducted, and I have every reason to believe she was taken to this island."

"n.o.body here. I was here yesterday, and all of last week, and I know."

"I think they brought the lady here this morning, about nine o'clock. I'd like to search the island for her."

"It's a trick!" cried Larkspur. "It's a trick to get ash.o.r.e and play us foul! Don't you let 'em land!"

"There is n.o.body on this island but ourselves," said Alfred Darkingham.

"You can take my word for that."

"Will you let me make a search?"

"I will not. I want you to go away, and at once. This is private property, and if you try to land I'll have the law on you!" And as he spoke the young man looked not only at the Rovers but also at the captain of the steam tug.