Part 8 (1/2)

”Of course I don't intend to go out after him, when dad and mom don't want us to,” Andy carefully explained to his brother, ”but it does no harm to ask; does it?” and he laughed joyously.

”No, I suppose not,” a.s.sented Frank.

It was about a week after the rescue of the mysterious lad, and his physical condition had continued to improve. He would soon be able to get around, the doctor said. Frank and Andy, who never grew tired of discussing the problem, and of wondering when the lad's mind would come back, were strolling along the beach of Harbor View. The weather had cleared and they were thinking of going for a sail, mainly on pleasure but incidentally to look for the wrecked motor boat.

”It's queer no one has sighted her, or heard of her,” remarked Andy, gazing on to sea, as if he might pick up the disabled craft on the horizon.

”Yes,” agreed Frank. ”I guess she's sunk all right.”

They walked on in silence, and were about to turn back toward where their boat was moored, when they noticed a man walking rapidly along the sands of the beach toward them.

”He seems to be in a hurry,” observed Frank, in a low voice.

”Yes,” agreed his brother. ”He looks as if he wanted to speak to us.”

”He's a stranger around here,” went on Andy.

A moment later the man hailed them.

”I beg your pardon,” he began, striding up to the two brothers, and s.h.i.+fting his gaze rapidly from one to the other. ”But have you seen or heard of a large motor boat going ash.o.r.e around here? I'm looking for one. There would be a boy in it perhaps--a lad of about your size.

Perhaps he put in here to get out of the storm. I've inquired all along the coast, but I can't get any word of him. You haven't happened to have heard anything, have you?”

Frank and Andy looked at each other quickly. At last they seemed on the track of the mystery.

”Was he a tall, dark lad, with black hair?” asked Frank.

”Yes--yes, that's the boy I'm looking for!” exclaimed the man quickly.

”And was the motor boat a long one, painted white with a green water line, and with the engines forward under a hood?” added Andy.

”Yes!” eagerly cried the man, in his excitement taking hold of Andy's coat. ”That's the boat! Where is it? I must have it!”

”She's wrecked,” said Frank quickly. ”We saw her on the Shark's Teeth, going to pieces, and we've been looking for her since, but the boy--”

”Yes--yes! The boy--the boy! What of him? Where is Paul--?”

The man stopped suddenly, and fairly clapped his hand over his own lips to keep back the next word. He seemed strangely confused.

”We rescued the boy, and he is up at our house,” said Frank quickly.

”We have been trying to pick up the wreck of the boat and learn who the boy is. He has lost his memory.”

”Lost his memory!” the man exclaimed, and he actually appeared glad of it.

”Yes, he doesn't remember even his name,” explained the elder Racer lad. ”But now we can solve the mystery as you know him. You say his name is Paul. What is his other name? Who are you? Don't you want to see him? We can take you to him--to Paul.”

The brothers eyed the man eagerly. On his part he seemed to shrink away.

”I--I made a mistake,” he said, biting his nails. ”I know no one named Paul. I--I--it was an error. That is not the boy I want. I must hurry on. Perhaps I shall get some news at the next settlement. I am--obliged to you.”