Chapter XVII: An Anxious Search

For several seconds the chums stared at each other in silence. Then Tom burst out with:

“Well, wouldn’t that rattle your teeth!”

“I should say yes,” chimed in Bert.

“There’s no doubt but that she’s gone,” said Jack, slowly.

“You don’t need a map to make that plain,” explained Tom, with a sickly grin.

“But what makes you think someone took her?” asked Dick, who, perhaps, did not arrive at conclusions as quickly as did the others.

“I can’t account for it in any other way,” went on Tom. “The engine couldn’t start itself, that’s sure. I have known it to start on compression, when it was feeling real good, and had had a fine night’s sleep, but those times were few and far between. Besides it would take someone to throw the switch even then. And I know she didn’t drift away, for I had a new bowline on her, and I took particular pains with the knot I tied.”

“Then she’s been taken away,” decided Jack.

“And the next question is; who took her?” put in Bert.

“And the following one is; what are we going to do?” added Dick.

“Two pretty hard propositions,” commented Tom grimly. “I fancy we can answer the first question easily enough.”

“How?” asked Jack quickly. “Whom do you think took your boat?”

“Who else but Sam Heller and Nick Johnson?” retorted Tom quickly. “They’re prowling around this neighborhood with Mr. Skeel, and, though we haven’t seem ’em lately I’ve no doubt that they are around here. Very likely they came past here and, seeing my boat, knew her at once. They hopped into her, and made off.”

“I believe you’re right,” agreed Jack. “The sneaks! I wish I could get hold of ’em now! I’d settle with ’em, game leg or not. I wonder which way they went?”

“Down the river, and out into the lake, naturally,” declared Bert. “They didn’t pass us as we were legging it away from old Wallace.”

“Yes, I guess that’s right,” assented Tom.

“Which brings us to the second question,” remarked Dick.

“What’s that?” asked Jack.

“What are we going to do? How are we going to get back to camp?”

“And it’s a mighty serious question,” said Tom grimly. “It will soon be dark, and if we don’t get back--well--” He shrugged his shoulders, and they all knew what he meant. They would have to spend the night in the woods, supperless. Not a very pleasant prospect, to say the least.

“Well, let’s have a hunt for the boat,” proposed Jack after a pause. “Maybe we can get a sight of those fellows if they’re in her, and if we do--”

“Well, what?” asked Tom significantly.

“We’ll swim out and take her away from ’em.”

Tom shook his head. “Not much chance of that,” he said. “The _Tag_ would walk right away from the best swimmer among us.”

“That is unless those fellows did something wrong to the motor, and it balked on them,” added Tom’s roommate.

“That’s a slim chance,” declared our hero. “Of course the _Tag_ may kick up a fuss when she finds her rightful owner isn’t in her, but we can’t count on it. There’s one thing, though, in our favor.”

“What’s that?” asked Dick.

“There isn’t much gasolene in the tank,” said Tom. “I only had enough in to about carry us back to camp, and it won’t run those fellows very far. Then they’ll be stuck if they’re out in the lake.”

“They may find our camp and get more,” suggested Bert.

“I don’t think so. They wouldn’t be likely to head for our camp in the first place,” reasoned Tom. “They’d go off in some other direction, and by the time they’ve traveled a few miles they won’t have gas enough to fetch up at our place. No, I think we’re safe enough on that score.”

“But what can we do?” asked Dick. “We’ve got to do something.”

“Of course,” assented Tom. “Let’s walk down to the lake, and see if we can get a sight of ’em. They may be stuck first shot, but I doubt it. Sam knows something about motorboats.”

“Ugh!” groaned Jack, at the prospect of a long tramp. “I wish we had an airship.”

But it was vain wishing, and there was nothing to do but to walk. Off they started, along the river bank, wondering what they would do that night if they did not get their boat. It would not be long before darkness fell, and with a prospect of no supper, and a night in the woods, it was enough to make anyone gloomy.

Fortunately they were all sturdy lads, with high spirits, and they did not easily give way to despair. It was a time, however, to severely try them.

“Seems to me someone must have moved the lake,” declared Jack, after an hour’s tramp.

“Why so?” asked Tom, with a laugh.

“Because it’s a good deal farther off than it was when we came up.”

“It only seems so,” said Dick. “We’ll soon be there.”

They reached the place where the river flowed into the lake about half an hour later, and their anxious gaze sought the broad expanse for a glimpse of the missing boat.

“Not in sight,” murmured Tom, shading his eyes with his hand, for the rays of the setting sun struck across the surface. “Not a trace of her!”

“Let’s walk along the shore aways,” proposed Bert. “We may see them then.”

“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Jack. “I don’t believe I can go a step farther--not without a rest, anyhow.”

“Then rest,” said Tom. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You stay here, and we’ll go along the shore for a mile or so. If we don’t see ’em, then we’ll come back.”

“You may miss me,” suggested his chum.

“We can’t. We’ve got to follow the lake shore, and we can’t get beyond the river, anyhow.”

“I’ll stay with him,” volunteered Dick. “You and Bert go, Tom.”

Thus it was arranged, and Tom and his chum started off, following the winding shore of the lake, casting their eyes over its lonely surface for a sight of the boat they so much needed. It was an anxious search, and it was not rewarded with success.

“Well, we may as well go back,” suggested Tom, after a bit. “It will soon be too dark to see, and we want to be together when night comes on.”

“That’s right,” assented his companion. “What are we going to do next?”

“Search me,” replied Tom laconically. “We’ll have to rough it, I guess; make some sort of a bunk with tree branches. Or we may find a sort of cave to sleep in.”

“And what about supper?” asked Bert, suggestively.

“We’ll have to take in our belts a few holes, and make our hunger small, as the Indians do.”

They turned back, and soon rejoined Dick and Jack, who were moodily sitting on the shore. One look at the faces of Tom and Bert told the story of their unsuccessful search as plainly as words could have done.

“Well, what about it?” asked Jack. “What are we going to do, Tom?”

“Look for a place to stay over night,” was the prompt answer. “We’ll need shelter, anyhow. Let’s find a good place, and cut some hemlock branches for a lean-to.”

“A cave would be just the cheese,” spoke Dick. “Maybe we can find one if we look.”

“Then we’ve got to get busy,” declared Bert. “It’ll soon be dark.”

Rather at a loss in which direction to start, the boys walked back along the bank of the river. Then, seeing a sort of trail, they followed that.

“Where does it lead to?” asked Jack, as he limped along.

“I don’t know,” answered Tom. “It’s been traveled, I can see that, and it may lead us to some sort of shelter.”

“I wish it would lead us to a restaurant,” murmured Bert.

“Hey, cut out that line of talk!” warned Tom.

It was now so dark that they could hardly see, but the trail was firm under their feet. It led up the hillside that sloped away from the river, and then, turning, followed the stream.

Tom, who was in the lead, as he usually was, came to a sudden stop when they had traversed several hundred feet on the straight path. So unexpectedly did he come to a halt that Dick, who was right behind, collided with him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “See a snake, Tom?”

“No, but I see something better. If that isn’t a cave I’m all kinds of a star-gazer. Look!”

They peered through the gathering dusk to where he pointed and beheld a black opening underneath a ledge of rock.

“It’s a cave all right!” cried Jack.

“Go ahead in it,” urged Bert.

“Maybe it’s where that bear hangs out,” suggested Dick.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Tom. “A bear wouldn’t have a cave so near a main-traveled trail. He’d pick out a more secluded place for a summer residence.”

“Say, you’re getting mighty polite all of a sudden,” declared Jack. “Go ahead inside then, if you think it’s all right, Tom.”

“I didn’t say it was all right, but I’m going to take a chance on it if you fellows will come.”

“Sure,” assented Dick, who had brought his gun--the only one of the campers who had. “We’ll back you up.”

“Then you go ahead,” suggested Tom, “as you have the only weapon. I’ll come behind and light matches, so you can see to shoot if there’s anything there.”

“Pleasant prospect,” murmured the country lad. Still he did not hang back, but advanced cautiously, Tom following him, with ready matchbox.

It was now so dark that the cave looked all the blacker by contrast. Yet no sound came from it, and the boys were practically certain that had it been inhabited, either by human beings or wild beasts, some sign would have been manifested by this time, as they had talked quite loudly.

Into the cave went Dick and Tom, followed by the other two, who had caught up clubs of wood.

“See anything?” called Jack, as Tom struck the first match.

“No, not a thing. Go on in farther, Dick. Ouch!” this last as the match burned down and scorched Tom’s fingers.

“Hurry up with that light!” cried Dick as the darkness became more dense than ever.

“I am,” said Tom, but it was some seconds before he could strike one.

“By Jove! There _is_ something here!” cried Dick. The next moment the report of his gun sounded like a clap of thunder in the cave.