Part 49 (1/2)
”I can't say, ma'am. Wait till I go on board and take a look around.”
Franchard was soon on the sloop. Everything appeared to be in order, although there were the marks of muddy feet on the flooring and on the seats. Martin and Toglet had taken good care that no clew that should lead to their ident.i.ty should be left behind.
”Do you see anything belonging to Ralph?” asked Mrs. Nelson.
”Not a thing.”
”Do you suppose he left the boat here?”
The boatman shook his head slowly.
”I wish I could say yes, Mrs. Nelson,” he said. ”But I don't think so. It's all wet around here, and there would be no sense in it when there are so many dry landing places nearby. Most likely he landed somewhere else and the boat drifted away from him.”
The widow gave a start.
”Oh, might they not have landed on one of the islands and the sloop got away from them?” she cried.
”By creation! that may be it!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bill Franchard. ”I never thought of it before.”
”I wish we could find out. I'm greatly worried. Something tells me that Ralph is not safe--that something has happened to him.”
”I'll tell you what I'll do, Mrs. Nelson. I'll take the _Ariel_ and sail up to the islands and take a look around.”
”Will you go this afternoon?”
”If you wish it, yes.”
”I do, very much.”
”Then I won't waste another minute. Maybe you would like to go along?”
”I would,” returned Mrs. Nelson, impelled by a fear she could not banish.
Franchard lost no time in towing the sloop back to the boat-house. Ten minutes later he and the widow were sailing up the lake as fast as the wind would carry them.
It was well on toward evening when the islands were reached.
”I'll give them a call if they are anywhere about,” said Franchard, and he yelled many times at the top of his lungs.
No reply came back, and after sailing around for some time they came to anchor beside Three Top Island.
”If they landed anywhere, they landed here,” said the boatman. ”So as long as we are in the vicinity we may as well take a look around.”
As luck would have it they had reached sh.o.r.e close to the bottom of the cliff. As they leaped on the rocks, Mrs. Nelson gave a start.
”What is it?” cried her companion, quickly.
”Oh, Mr. Franchard, look!” screamed the poor woman. ”It is Ralph's fis.h.i.+ng towel, and it has blood upon it!”