When they ran into the harbor of the town at the foot of the lake they looked in vain for the _Falcon_.

"We'll take a sail around," said Captain Lambert; and this they did, continuing the hunt until long after dark.

"It's no use!" groaned d.i.c.k. "We've missed her."

It took nearly all the money the boys could sc.r.a.pe up between them to pay off the captain of the tug, and when they had been landed at one of the docks they wondered what they had best do next.

"We've got to stay here over night," said d.i.c.k.

"We may as well telegraph to Captain Putnam for cash," and this they did, and put up at one of the hotels.

The place was crowded, for there was a circus in the town and a public auction of real estate had also taken place that day. The boys could get only a small room, but over this they did not complain. Their one thought was of Dora and of the rascals who had carried her off.

"We must get on the track somehow," said d.i.c.k. But how, was the question. He could not sleep and after the others had retired took a long walk, just to settle his nerves.

d.i.c.k's walk brought him to the lot where the circus had held forth, and for some time he watched the men as they worked under the flaring gasoline torches, packing up what still remained on the grounds. The tent men had to labor like slaves in rolling up the huge stretches of canvas and in hoisting the long poles into the wagons, and he shook his head grimly as he turned away.

"No circus life in mine," he mused, "at least, not that part of it."

d.i.c.k had moved away from the grounds but a short distance when his attention was attracted to the strange movements of two rough-looking individuals who were hurrying off with a third man between them.

"I don't want to go, I tell you," the middle man muttered; "I don't want more to drink."

"That's all right, Mr. Castor," said one of the other men glibly.

"Just have one more gla.s.s, that's a good fellow."

"I won't take it, so there!" cried the man called Castor. "I know when I've had enough."

"You've got to come along with us," put in the third man savagely. "You owe us some money."

"I don't owe you a cent, Fusty."

"Yes, you do--and I'm bound to have it. Hold him, Mike, till I go through him."

Of a sudden there was a struggle, and the man called Castor found himself helpless, while the fellow called Fusty began to go through his pockets with great rapidity.

The scene alarmed d.i.c.k, and he wondered what he had best do.

Then he made up his mind to go to Castor's a.s.sistance, and ran forward.

"Here, let that man alone!" he cried, as he picked up a fence picket which happened to lie handy. "Leave him alone, I say!"

"The Old Nick take the luck!" muttered one of the other men.

"Who's this?"

"Help! Help!" cried Castor.

"Let him alone, I say!" repeated d.i.c.k, and then struck at one of the men and hit him on the arm.

Seeing himself thus re-enforced, Castor also struck out, and continued to call for help.

"We might as well give it up, Fusty!" cried one of the rascals, and took to his heels, and then there was nothing to do for the other man but to follow him.

"Are you hurt?" asked d.i.c.k as he helped the man who had been a.s.saulted to his feet.

"Not much," was the slow reply. "Young man, you came in time and no more."

"Do you know those fellows who just ran away?"

"I met them at the circus this afternoon. We had several drinks and they became very friendly. I believe they were after my money."

"I think so too, Mr."

"My name is George Castor. And who are you?"

"I am d.i.c.k Rover, sir."

"Rover, I must thank you for your services. I shan't forget you, not me!" and George Castor held out his hand cordially. "I think I made a mistake by drinking with those fellows."

"I haven't any doubt of it, Mr. Castor."

"Do you reside in town?"

"No, sir; I am stopping at the hotel with my brothers. We just came into town tonight on rather a curious errand."

"Indeed, and what was that?"

In a few words d.i.c.k explained the situation. He had not yet finished when George Castor interrupted him.

"My boy, you have done me a good turn, and now I think I can return the compliment."

"Do you mean to say you know something of this case?" demanded d.i.c.k eagerly.

"Perhaps I do. Describe this Dan Baxter as well as you can, will you?"

"Certainly." And d.i.c.k did so.

"It is the same fellow. I met him last night, down near the lumber wharves. You see, I am a lumber merchant from Brooklyn, and I have an interest in a lumber company up here."

"You saw Baxter? Was he alone?"

"No, there was another man with him, a tall, slim fellow, with an unusually sour face."

"Josiah Crabtree to a T!" burst out d.i.c.k. "Did you notice where they went?"

"I did not. But I overheard their talk. They spoke about a boat on the Hudson River, the _Flyaway_. They were to join her at Albany."

"Who was to join her?"

"This Baxter, if it was he, and somebody else--a man called m.u.f.f, or something like that."