The Go Ahead Boys on Smugglers' Island Part 21

"And our feeling is," laughed Fred somewhat ruefully, "that any time we spend here is wasted."

"I think you'll have to stay," said the man as he went back and stepped on board his skiff. He then pushed out from the sh.o.r.e and speedily resumed his place on board the motor-boat.

The anchor was hauled in and in a brief time the fleet little craft had resumed its voyage, headed now for the southern point of Western Duck Island.

"That beats anything I have ever seen. I tell you, Fred, there's something wrong here. Don't you think we had better go back in the woods and see if we cannot find that man who came out of there a little while ago?"

"We might as well do that as anything," a.s.sented Fred, and quickly climbing the bank once more, they started across the field which intervened between them and the woods. As nearly as possible they were following the path taken by the others some time before.

They had not gone far, however, before John suddenly stopped and picked up an envelope which he saw lying on the ground.

"Of all things in the world!" he exclaimed. "What do you think of this?"

Handing the envelope to Fred he called his attention to the name typewritten on the outside: "Mr. b.u.t.ton."

"That's for you, Fred," laughed John.

"If it is," said Fred, "then somebody had the pleasure of reading my letter before I did."

"The envelope has been opened," suggested John; "suppose you read the letter. It may be for you. Very likely some of the people here heard you were coming and they are getting ready to welcome us. This is the royal proclamation for you. That man told us we're on an island and if we are I guess Robinson Crusoe didn't have very much on us."

Fred meanwhile was reading the letter and it was manifest from his expression that he was startled or puzzled by what he read. At last he handed the letter to John, simply saying, "Our patriotic and mysterious friend has made another mistake. This letter is not for me but for Mr.

Ferdinand b.u.t.ton."

"What do you suppose it is doing here?"

"I don't know," replied Fred, "unless the man dropped it."

"But he's not Mr. Ferdinand b.u.t.ton," protested John.

"No more he isn't," acknowledged Fred, "but that isn't the only strange thing about it. Read the letter, John, anyway."

Thus bidden, John read the following letter,--

Dear Sir:

I enclose you an envelope with my address. Send my your answer as soon as you possible this afternoon. I will get it in Macinac tonight or tomorrow morning and will immediately come to see you.

To deliver you this gang which rob United States of thousands of dollars each year. I only want two things. 1st. My ticket to Montreal and back. 2nd. My pa.s.sage to Europe by way of the Azores Isles. I do not want money. You will pay me _when the gang is in your hands_. You will get it this afternoonday. Do not fail to send me your answer quick. If you do so I will have the gang in your lands in 2 weeks. They are 2 men and 1 woman and they smuggle by ways you are not at all suspicious.

Truly yours,

"Mr. b.u.t.ton certainly has a good many friends and they are trying to keep him well informed. What do you make of this anyway, Fred?"

"I don't make much of anything," said Fred thoughtfully. "What's the use of going any farther? Let's go back and take our skiff and see if we can't get somewhere. The lake is smooth this morning and we may be able to get back as far as Drummond or c.o.c.kburn Island."

When the boys returned to the sh.o.r.e the motor-boat had disappeared from sight. This strange disappearance, however, was not so confusing to the boys as the discovery they speedily made concerning the skiff which they themselves had left on the sh.o.r.e of the cove.

CHAPTER XV A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS

"Where did that sail come from?" demanded John, as he stopped abruptly and looked in astonishment at the little skiff. Thrown carelessly across it was a sail and small mast.

"Where did they come from?" he repeated.

"I didn't put them there," replied Fred.

"Who did then?"

"I don't know any more about it than you do."

"Well, somebody has been good to us and tried to help us get away from this deserted island. What did that man say the name of it is?"

"Western Duck Island. There are a half-dozen of these islands, I remember now."

"I shan't feel very badly if I never see nor hear of them again."

"We're all right now. We have a sail."

"Perhaps we are, though I haven't forgotten that that little j.a.p said we are forty miles from Mackinac."

"What is forty miles to fellows who have got a boat and a sail?"

While the two boys were talking they had adjusted the mast and rigged the little leg-of-mutton sail. It was plain to both boys that if conditions continued favorable they had found an easier way by which they could return to their hotel than by trying to row.

"Come on," called Fred cheerily, his courage now having returned in full measure. "Come on. Don't let's stay here any longer than we have to."

"I'm with you," responded John. "Now who's going to sail this boat first?"

"You are, by unanimous consent; I think it will be safer for the crew to have you sitting in the stern than it will be to have you crawling around the bow."

The mystery of the sail had not been explained, but whoever had left it plainly had intended that it should be used.

The wind was light but the little skiff drew rapidly away from the sh.o.r.e of Western Duck Island, and as he glanced behind him Fred said, "I feel almost as Columbus must have felt when he set forth in his three tubs to find a new world."

"I never knew that Columbus sailed in three boats before," laughed John.

"I didn't mean that Columbus himself sailed in three boats, at least at the same time. I used his name as the name of his whole party. I forgot for the minute what kind of material I was dealing with."

"Never you mind that," retorted John. "You just watch me while I sail this boat. I'm going to head her up the sh.o.r.e toward Drummond Island. If we can make that I think we'll be all right for the rest of the way."

"And if we don't make it what are you going to do?" said Fred more seriously.

"It'll be time enough for me to explain to you, my friend, when the occasion arrives. Meanwhile just see how smoothly we are speeding on our way."

"You're almost a poet," laughed Fred, "and there isn't wind enough to lift a feather. I think I'll take the oars and row."