He paused and looked down the beach. An indefinable something had attracted his attention. The next moment he grasped Andy by the arm.

"There he is!" he exclaimed.

And there, about a quarter of a mile away was a man, standing beside a big wrecked motor boat that was drawn up on the beach. It was the mysterious personage for whom the Racer boys were searching.



CHAPTER XIX

IN THE CAVE

For a moment Frank and Andy were so surprised that neither one of them could think of anything to say. It seemed almost impossible that their search should be rewarded just at the time when they had given it up. Yet there was no mistake. There was the man they wanted. At least they assumed so, for they could not make out his features at that distance. At any rate, there was the wrecked motor boat, and the tall man was critically inspecting it.

"Look! Look!" was all Andy could whisper.

"Yes," assented Frank. "Now if he'll only let us get within talking distance, and not run as he always does, we may learn something. I wish we could steal up on him quietly."

"No chance of that, I'm afraid. He knows we're here. It was he who was walking around our boat."

"Sure; and he knows it's the one from the Gull. Well, the only thing to do is to go right up to him. I wonder what he wants with that boat, anyhow? See, he's poking into it as if there were gold or diamonds concealed in it."

"Perhaps there are. Maybe that's the mystery," said the younger Racer lad eagerly.

"Oh, you got that out of some of the books you read. But I can't understand how we could have missed him."

Andy did not answer. Instead he grabbed his brother and pulled him down on the sand behind the boat. It was only just in time, for the man had turned and was gazing back toward the overturned craft.

"I hope he didn't see us," whispered Andy.

"We must lay low until we think of some plan. Maybe he'll get down inside the motor boat and then we can get up to him before he knows it. But I tell you what I think, Frank," he went on, "either that man was hiding in some cave farther back than we looked, or he has just arrived."

"The motor boat has just arrived, anyhow, or at least since night before last," assented the elder lad. "We couldn't have overlooked that. Say, Andy, he is getting inside! Now's our chance!"

They saw, by peering over the edge of their craft, that the mysterious man had climbed over the half-burned rail of the damaged motor boat. His back was toward them, and they could not see his head. He appeared to be tearing the interior of the craft apart.

Cautiously the two brothers crept out from behind their shelter and made their way softly over the sand toward where the man was. What they intended to do when they confronted him they hardly knew. Frank was sure that he wanted to ask the queer stranger certain questions, and he hoped to be able to plead with him to tell what he knew of Paul Gale. The question was, whether or not the man would answer.

It was lucky that their footsteps made no sound on the soft sand, for they were thus enabled to approach to within a short distance of the wreck as it rested on the beach. The man was still in it, and they could hear him pounding and splitting wood in the interior. Evidently he was not aware of their presence.

For the first time since they had begun their surprising series of adventures, the boys were able to make out the name of the strange craft. It was the Swallow, and as they had a chance to look at her graceful lines they realized that, before the fire, wreck, and explosion the boat had been a powerful one.

"I think we have him this time," whispered Andy, as they came nearer and nearer, and the man was still bending over with his back toward them.

Frank laid his finger across his lips as a sign of caution. At that moment an unfortunate thing happened. Andy stepped on a shell, not seeing it, and it broke under his weight with a sharp, crackling sound.

Like a flash the man leaped up, and fairly sprang out of the boat. He stood confronting the Racer boys.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he demanded sharply. Then, as he recognized them, he added: "Oh, it's you two again. Didn't I warn you to stop following me?"

"We didn't choose to," retorted Frank calmly. "We've found you after a good deal of trouble, and we intend to end this mystery now. A boy's life—the life of Paul Gale—hangs in the balance."

"As if I cared," sneered the man. "You have had your trouble for your pains. I shall tell you nothing, and I order you off this island."

"We're not going!" exclaimed Andy firmly. "This is a public place, and we have as much right here as you have. Besides, you haven't any cannon now, and we're two to one."

"Oh, you are; eh?" demanded the man in an ugly voice. "We'll see about that. Once more I order you to stop following me; do you hear?"

"We're not going to let you get away until you answer our questions!" declared Frank. "We demand to know what you are doing with Paul's boat, and we want to know what his full name is, so that we can communicate with his friends."

"You'll never know from me!" fairly shouted the man. "And I defy you to get anything out of me. I'm not going to be bothered with you. Come on, men, here are these two bothersome boys! Let's get rid of them!" he suddenly cried, waving his hand as if at someone approaching Andy and Frank from the rear.

Involuntarily they turned, but the next instant they heard a triumphant laugh, and when they turned back, having seen no one, they beheld the mysterious man racing across the sands toward the interior of the island.

"Quick! After him!" cried Frank.

"Yes, we mustn't let him get away again!" added his brother.

They set off after the stranger at full speed. He was running rapidly, now and then glancing over his shoulder at them.

All at once he changed his course, and darted around a small rocky promontory. The tide was rising and he had to step into the water to make the turn.

"After him!" yelled Frank again.

The two brothers made the turn, and just far enough behind the man to see him dart into the black entrance of a small cave. It was one they had looked into, but into which they had not penetrated far.

"Now we've got him!" yelled Andy. "There's no way out of that! Come on, Frank!"

Together the two brothers entered the dark cavern. The change from the glaring sunlight on the sands to intense gloom made them pause for a moment, and they heard from somewhere in the blackness of the rear a sinister chuckle.

"He's in here," declared Andy. "We have him now."

The two pressed forward resolutely in the darkness. Of what lay before them—the danger from a desperate man and the danger of the cavern they knew not—they only resolved to end the mystery if possible.



CHAPTER XX

THE RISING TIDE

"Where are you, Frank?" called Andy.

"Right here. Give me your hand. It won't do to get lost in this darkness. Where are you?"

The two brothers groped about in the darkness until they had found each other.

"Listen," whispered the older one. "Do you hear him?"

In the silence and blackness there came to them the sound of retreating footsteps, and of small stones and particles of earth falling.

"He must be climbing up," said Andy. "This cave is bigger than we thought, and he must know the place, even in the dark.

"It is as dark as a pocket," complained Frank. "I can't see anything."

"Wait!" suddenly exclaimed Andy. "Why didn't we think of them before? Our pocket electrics. They'll do the trick!"

"Sure enough."

An instant later two small but powerful gleams of light cut the blackness of the cavern, and the boys were enabled to see so they could hurry ahead. They could still hear the man retreating before them.

"We're coming!" cried Andy in reckless bravado.

"Hush! He'll hear you," cautioned his mother.

"What of it? I want him to. He'll see our lights anyhow. But I think we have him trapped."

"If there isn't another outlet to the cave. But come on."

Forward they pressed. They could still hear the noise made by the man, and once they were startled by his mocking laugh. So close was it that they knew he must have doubled on his tracks returned toward them.

"There are several passages in this cave, I'm sure of it," declared Frank. "We'll have to be careful not to get lost."

"That's right. This fellow must be at home here. But the floor is beginning to slope upward. Say, it's damp in here, all right," Andy added, as he stepped into a little puddle of water.

"From the rain, I guess," replied Frank.

"Hu! How could rain get in here?"

"It must have soaked in through the roof. But we can't talk and listen for that man. Let's hurry on."

Once more they advanced, but they became confused by many windings and turnings of the dark passages, until Frank called a halt.

"Let's consider a bit," he said to his brother. "We can't go on this way. We've got to mark some of these passages so we'll know them again if we come by. Otherwise we'll get all confused."

"Good idea. Make some scratches on them with your knife. That will do."

Frank quickly did this and they pressed on. Occasionally they called to the man, but he did not answer them now—not even by his mocking laugh. They, however, could still hear him.

"He's leading us on a wild goose chase!" declared Frank at length. "The first thing we know he'll get back to the entrance and escape."

"Then one of us had better go to the mouth of the cave and either stop him, or else be there to give the alarm when he tries to get out," proposed Andy. "I'll go."

"No, I think we'd better stick together," suggested his brother. "That man is too dangerous for one of us to tackle alone. We may catch up to him any moment now, and I hope he'll give in, and tell us what we want to know."

Without the portable electric lights which they each carried it would have been impossible for the Racer boys to have found their way about the cave. They marveled how it was that the mysterious man could follow the windings and turnings in the dark, but, as they learned afterward, he had been in the cave before.

Back and forth, up and down, here and there, like following some will-o'-the-wisp went the boys. At times they thought they had lost the object of their pursuit, but again they would hear him hurrying on ahead of them.

"Hold on a minute!" suddenly exclaimed Frank, when he had led the way down a steep descent. "I don't like this."

"Like what?" asked Andy, in some alarm.

"This chase. That man knows what he's doing and we don't. If he wanted to he could have been out of this cave a dozen times or more, yet he's staying in and leading us on. He has some object in it, and I don't mind confessing that I'm afraid of it."

"How do you mean afraid?"

"I think we may come to some harm. He fairly enticed us in here and now he's playing with us as a cat does with a mouse. I'm going to stop and go back to the entrance."

"Well, perhaps you're right," admitted Andy, and it was quite an admission for him, as he was always willing to take more risks than was his brother. "We'll stand still a few minutes and see what happens."

They remained there, quiet in the darkness. For a time not a sound broke the stillness. Then, with startling suddenness came a hail:

"Well, why don't you catch me?"

"Catch me?" repeated the echoes, and there followed a mocking laugh.

"Here he is!" cried Andy. "Off to the left."

"No, the right," insisted Frank. "Over this way."

"All right," agreed Andy, and he followed his brother.

Hardly had he spoken than there rang throughout the cave a dull, booming sound. It seemed to shake the ground.

"He's exploded something!" cried Frank, coming to a halt. He flashed his electric torch around, but could see nothing. He and his brother were in a low, rock-roofed passage.

"It sounded like something falling," was Andy's opinion. "Let's go forward and see what it was."

They had not gone forward more than a dozen steps before they were halted by the sound of a voice—the voice of the mysterious man.

"Maybe you'll take a warning next time!" he sneered. "I think you've followed me once too often. This is the end."

They could hear him hastening away. Then came silence.

"What did he mean?" asked Andy.

"I don't know," replied his brother. "Let's look."

Andy was in the lead. Slowly he advanced, flashing his electric light. Then he came to a halt.

"What's the matter?" asked Frank.

"I can't go any farther. The passage ends here in a solid rock."

"Then we'll have to go back. I thought he was fooling us. He wanted to get us in some side chamber, so he could make his escape from the entrance. Hurry back."

They fairly ran to the other end of the passageway, retracing their steps. This time Frank was ahead. Suddenly he came to a halt.

"Well, why don't you go on?" asked Andy.

"I can't. There's a big rock here."

"A rock? There wasn't any there when we came in."

"I know it, but it's fallen down since. The passage is closed."

"Closed!" gasped Andy. "Then I know what happened. That was the noise we heard. That man toppled this rock down to trap us here. We're caught, Frank! Caught!"

For a moment the older brother did not answer. Then he replied:

"It does looks so. But we'll try to shove this stone out of the way. Come on, lend a hand."

Together the boys pushed and shoved. But all to no purpose. Flashing their lights on the obstruction, they saw that it had fallen down in a wedged-shaped place, dove-tailing itself in so that no power short of dynamite could loosen it. The hopelessness of moving it struck them at once.

"The other end!" cried Frank. "We must try to get out the other way!"

Back they raced along the passage, slipping stumbling on the wet, rocky floor. But it only to come face to face with a solid wall of rock.

"No use trying to get through there," said Andy. "We must try to move the big rock."

"We can't," spoke Frank. "I think——" But he never finished that sentence. Instead focused his light down on the stone floor of passage in the cave. A thin stream of water trickling along it.

"Look! Look!" whispered Andy.

"Yes," answered his brother in a low voice. "The tide is rising. It's running into the cave, and we—we're trapped here, Andy. No wonder that man said it was the last time. We're trapped by the rising tide!"



CHAPTER XXI

DEATH IS NEAR

"Frank, are you there?"

"Yes, Andy. Give me your hand."

The two brothers spoke softly. It was in the darkness of the cave, for they had both released the pressure on the springs of their portable lights to make the little dry batteries last as long as possible. It was several minutes after the first awful discovery of the incoming tide, and they had maintained a silence until the younger lad, unable to longer endure the strain, had called out.

Silently they clasped hands in the blackness.

"Frank, do you—do you think there's any way out?"

"Why, of course there is, Andy. All we've got to do is to wait a while, and someone will surely come to our rescue. Father and mother know we started for this island, and if we don't get home soon they'll start a searching party after us."

"Yes, but the rising tide, Frank. We—we may drown."

"Nonsense. The water can't get very high in here. We'll simply go to the highest part of the passage, and wait until the tide goes out. That won't be so very long. What makes me mad though, is to think how that man fooled us. That was his object all along. He wanted to get us in here so he could drop that rock across the opening and have us caged."

"Can't we try to get out?" asked Andy. his usually joyous spirits had departed. He was very much subdued now, and in the momentary flash of his light, which he permitted himself, Frank saw that his brother was very pale.

"Of course we'll try!" exclaimed the elder lad, with all the assurance he could put into his voice. "Perhaps we can manage it, too. Let's have a try. It's of no use to do it here. We must go back to where he pushed down the rock. Perhaps it isn't in as tight as we thought at first. Come on. But don't use your light. Mine is enough, and we must save them as long as we can."

By the gleam of the single electric torch they made their way back. Soon they were at the rock which made them prisoners. It loomed grim and black in the semi-darkness.

"The water's higher," said Andy, in a low voice. Frank had noticed that, for it now reached to his ankles as he splashed his way back along the passage. But he had said nothing, hoping Andy had not observed it.

"Yes," said the older boy cheerfully, "It's bound to rise until the tide is at flood, and then—why, it will go down again—that's all."

"But suppose it fills this cave?"

"Nonsense! It can't. I'm not going to suppose anything of the sort. Now come on. Let's see if we can move this rock."

Together they pressed on the stone with all their strength. They might as well have tried to budge the side of a mountain. The rock was firmly wedged in place.

"It's no use," spoke Andy, in a dull, hopeless tone.

"Oh, don't give up so easily," urged his brother. "If we can't do it one way, we may another. See, it has slid down in a sort of groove. Only a little ridge of rock on either side holds it in place. Now if we can break away those upright ridges, which are like the pieces on a window sash up and down which the window slides, we may be able to push the rock out. Let's try. Use your knife and take a rock for a hammer."

Frank placed his torch on a ledge of rock, tying the spring down by a piece of cord so that the light would focus on the big bowlder. Then, with their pocket-knives as chisels, and stones as mallets, they began their futile attempts to cut away the holding ridges of rock.

That it was a futile attempt was soon made evident, for their knives slipped off the flint-like stone, and several times when the blades unexpectedly shut, the lads received severe cuts on their hands.

Suddenly Andy uttered an exclamation:

"The water! It's getting deeper!" he cried

It was up to their knees now.

"Of course it getting deeper," said Frank, with a cheerfulness that he was far from feeling. "The tide isn't half in yet."

Andy shuddered.

"What will we do when it's high water?" he asked.

Frank did not answer, but kept on chipping away at the rock. He managed to break off several pieces, but it was easy to see that it would take much more work to loosen the retaining ridges so that the bowlder that imprisoned them would fall outward.

"There it goes!" suddenly exclaimed the older brother in despair. "I've broken my knife blade! You'll have to do all the work, Andy."

"Oh, what's the use?" sighed the younger lad. "The water is coming in faster. See, it's up to our waists now, and the tide is nowhere at full! We're doomed, Frank!"

"Not a bit of it. See that ledge of rock up there? We'll climb up on it and wait until the water goes down. Then maybe someone will come for us, or we can get out. Climb up, Andy. We won't try to break off any more rock."

Frank helped his brother to take a position on the narrow ledge. It was barely wide enough for two, but, somehow, they managed to cling to it. The surface was wet, and there were little puddles of water here and there. Seeing them in the gleam of his light, Frank could not repress a shudder.

"The tide must come up even to here," he thought. "If it comes up to the roof—well, that's the end of us." But he said nothing to Andy.

Slowly the water rose. They boys watched it, sitting on the narrow ledge with their feet and legs dangling off. From time to time Frank would flash his light on the little lapping waves.

"It will soon stop," he said, as cheerfully as he could. But he did not believe himself. He held Andy's hand in a firm grip.

Higher and higher rose the tide. It was at the knees of the boys now, and still mounting.

"Let's stand up," proposed Frank at length. "I'm tired of sitting."

They took an upright position on the ledge of rock. Their heads just touched the rocky roof of the cave. In fact Frank, who was a trifle taller than his brother, had to stoop.

"Now we'll be all right, Andy," he said. "We can stand here until the water goes down."

"If—if it doesn't touch the roof," was the solemn answer.

Frank said nothing.

Standing on the ledge, high above the floor the cave, the water now lapped their ankles once more. Frank could feel it creeping higher—ever higher. In spite of himself, a horrible fear took possession of him. Death was very near, he thought—a terrible death by drowning in the cave where they were caged like rats in a trap.



CHAPTER XXII

THE STORM

"Do you know how high the tide rises on this island?" asked Andy after a pause. His voice sounded strange in that hollow, dark place, amid the ceaseless lapping of the water on the rocks.

"How high? No, but it can't get much higher," answered Frank as cheerfully as he could. "It's been rising some time now, and it must stop soon."

"It seems a long time, but it isn't," went on Andy in that quiet voice. "Look, it's seven o'clock," and he held out his watch, illuminating it with the flashing electric light.

"Seven in the evening," murmured Frank. "It must be getting dark outside." It had been dark from the beginning in the cave.

"Seven o'clock in the evening," went on Andy, "and we came in here about four! The tide has several hours to rise yet, and——"

He did not finish, but he glanced down at the water that was steadily rising up on their legs. It was chilling them, yet they dared not move much for fear of toppling off the narrow ledge.

Frank did not answer. He was busy trying to think of some way of escape. Yet, rack his brain as he did, no way out of the cave seemed possible. Were they doomed to die there?

"Can we climb any higher?" asked Andy, after another period of silence. "If we could, we might get out of reach of the water, even when the tide is full. Let's turn on both our lights and look at the wall back of us."

They had been saving the fast-waning current in the electric lamps against the time of need. They might have but little further use for it, so both Andy and his brother pressed the springs that turned on the gleaming lights.

In the glow they could see the black and gurgling water at their knees. It was swirling around from the force of the tide outside that was rushing into the cave. Though the stone thrown down by the man at the entrance prevented our heroes from escaping, the bowlder did not fit so tightly but what water could come in.

"Now to see what's back of us," spoke Frank, turning around as well as he could on the small shelf, and flashing his light on the wall behind him.

"Say!" suddenly exclaimed Andy, "doesn't it strike you that the water isn't coming in so fast is it was?"

Frank held his light lower, and looked at the rising tide.

"There doesn't seem to be quite so much force to it," admitted the elder Racer lad, "but I'm afraid that's only because it's higher, and because it has to wind in and out of so many passages, and force itself under and around the rock which that scoundrel threw down. I wish we had him here!"

"I guess he's far enough off by this time," remarked Andy. "But let's see if there's a way to get higher up."

Together they examined the wall of the cave against which they had been leaning. Frank uttered a cry of joy.

"It's mostly dirt, not stone!" he exclaimed. "We can cut steps in it, and climb up. Maybe we can get high enough so that the tide won't reach us, or at least we can keep our heads above water until it goes down. Come on, where's your knife?"

Working by turns, with the only knife available between them, the boys began frantically cutting niches or steps in the dirt wall. Fortunately it was packed hard enough so that it did not crumble. They took turns at the desperate labor, one holding the torch, and the other wielding the knife.

All the while the tide kept coming higher, until it was now to their waists. But they had not yet made enough notches to enable them to stand up, clinging by their hands and toes. For it needed four niches for each lad—eight laboriously-cut holes in the wall, four niches for the hands and four for the feet, some distance apart. Even when this was done it would only raise them about twenty inches. Would that be enough?

"We can't cut any more after this," said Frank dully, when they had almost finished the eight.

"Why not?"

"Because we can't hold on in these and cut any more. The footing isn't good enough. If we only had a sort of platform to stand on, we could reach up higher. As it is, I'm afraid this isn't going to do much good—that is for very long. The water is still rising."

"If we only had some sticks," exclaimed Andy hopelessly. "We could drive them in the dirt, leaving the ends projecting, and then we could go up, like on a ladder."

"But we haven't any sticks."

"Maybe there are some on the shelf where are standing; imbedded in it."

It was a slim chance, but worth trying, and by turns they stooped over and felt down beneath the water. This had the effect of wetting them to their shoulders, but not a piece of wood could they discover. Helplessly they stared at each other in the dying gleam of their electric torches. Relentlessly the water mounted higher.

"We might as well get up in the niches," said Andy, after another long pause. "We may not be able to climb if we wait too long."

"Wait as long as possible," advised his brother in a low voice.

"Why so?"

"Because it's going to be hard to cling there. It's a stiff position to hold, and we ought to stay here, where we have a good footing, as long as possible. There's time enough when the water gets up to our shoulders."

It was like waiting for almost certain death, but the boys never lost their hearts. Somehow they felt that there would be a way out—yet how it would come they dared not even imagine. They only hoped and—waited.

"We'd better climb up now," said Frank at length. "You go first, Andy, and get a good hold. I'll follow."

"Why don't you go first?"

"Oh, you might fall."

"So might you."

"Go ahead, I tell you!" and Frank spoke more sharply to his brother than he had ever done before. Andy turned and clambered up in the niches. They had cut them slanting to give their feet and hands a better grip, and this was a wise provision, for it was desperate holding at best.

Frank followed his brother, and then, at the last stand, they clung there together, listening to the lapping of the water that, raised up as they were, even now wet their legs.

How long they clung thus they did not know. It seemed a long time, but it could not have been more than fifteen minutes they agreed afterward, for the water did not gain much. But suddenly the silence of the night outside was broken by a loud report.

"Signal guns!" exclaimed Andy. "Some vessel is in distress."

"No, that's thunder!" said Frank. "There's a storm coming up. But we won't know it—in here."

"I hope our boat is safe, and that the Gull is well anchored," went on the younger lad anxiously.

"As if that mattered," thought Frank, but he did not say so. He began to think they would never have any further use for their craft. He choked back the dreadful fear that seemed to take possession of him.

Once more came a terrific clap of thunder, and it seemed to shake the very island to its center.

"It's a fierce one," murmured Andy.

In quick succession came a number of awful reports. The earthy wall to which they were clinging seemed to tremble. The water gurgled below them, rising higher and higher.

"I wonder—" began Andy, after a terrific clap, but his words were silenced in the thunderous vibration that followed. It was the hardest clap yet, and the boys felt a tingling, numbing sensation in their fingers.

"That struck near here!" yelled Frank.

His face was turned upward toward the roof of the cavern. He felt something falling on his cheeks. It seemed to be particles of dirt. Then he felt a dampness that was not from the waters below him. More particles fell.

"What's the matter?" cried Andy. "Something is happening. What is it?"

Before Frank could answer, had he known what was taking place, there came a loud splash in the water at Andy's left.

"Is that you Frank? Have you fallen?" he called desperately.

"No, I'm here," replied his brother. "That must have been part of the side or roof of the cave jarred off by the thunder. Hold fast, Andy."

There came a second splashing sound in the water, followed by another. The drops of dampness and particles of earth continued to rain into the faces of the lads.

"The cave's crumbling in!" cried Andy. "The roof is falling."

"Hold—" began Frank.

A roar interrupted him. Suddenly the cave seemed to be illuminated by a dazzling light bluish in color. By it the boys could see each other as they clung to the wall. They could see the black and swirling waters now waist high. But they could see something else.

They could look up and out through a jagged hole in the roof of the cavern, and through that opening they had a glimpse of the fury of the storm. They could see the lightning flashing in the sky.

For a moment the meaning of it was lost on them. Then Frank uttered a cry of hope.

"We're saved, Andy, saved! Now we can crawl up out of the top of the cave and escape. The tide can't reach us now! We're saved!"



CHAPTER XXIII

TO THE RESCUE

Back in the Racer cottage there was an anxious consultation going on. It was the afternoon of the second day since Andy and Frank had gone to Cliff Island, and they had not returned.

"I don't like it!" exclaimed Mr. Racer, tossing aside the paper he had been trying to read, and restlessly pacing the floor. "I wish they hadn't gone. I wish they were back."

"Don't you think they can look after themselves?" asked the mother. Usually she was the more nervous, but this time it was her husband.

"Oh, I suppose they could, ordinarily," he answered. "But this is different."

"How, Dick?" and there was an anxious note in Mrs. Racer's voice. She had just come in from a tennis tournament to find that her husband had returned from New York earlier than usual. Now she began to realize the cause. It was on account of the boys.

"Well, there's a storm coming up, for one thing, and then there's that man. I wish Andy and Frank hadn't started after him."

"It was to help Paul, dear."

"I know. They meant all right, but they're too daring. However, it can't be helped. Where's Paul?"

"He felt so well that he went for a little walk. He said he'd go down toward the pier and see if he could see or hear anything of the boys.

"Well, I'm glad he's getting better." Mr. Racer once more tried to read the paper, but gave it up.

"You're nervous," said his wife, as he tossed it aside.

"Yes, I am. Nothing is worse than sitting still, and waiting—waiting for something to happen.

"Oh, Dick! I'm sure you don't want anything to happen!"

"Of course not. But I don't like this weather."

Paul came in at that moment. The glow off health was beginning to reappear in his pale cheeks.

"Well?" asked Mr. Racer quickly.

"They're not in sight," answered the lad who did not know who he was. "And Captain Trent says a bad storm is brewing."

"That settles it!" exclaimed Mr. Racer. He started up and took down an old overcoat and hat.

"Where are you going?" asked his wife in alarm.

"I'm going for those boys. I can't stand it any longer."

"But how can you get to Cliff Island if a storm is coming up? You have no boat, and to row—"

"I don't intend to row. Mr. Lacey, a friend of mine, put in here with his big motor boat a little while ago. I saw him as I got off the New York steamer, and he said he might stay here a couple of days. His craft is at the pier float. I know he'll take me to Cliff Island, blow or no blow, and his Norma is big enough to weather quite a sea."

"Oh, Dick, I'm afraid to have you go!"

"Oh, there's no danger, but there might be to our boys, and I'm going to the rescue. Don't worry. I may be able to get out to the island and back before dark. They're probably scouting around, looking for that man, and he isn't there at all. They think they're having a good time, but they don't realize what the weather is going to be."

Mr. Racer went on with his preparations for being out in the storm. Mrs. Racer, after the first alarm, agreed with him that it was best to go after the boys.

"Do you think that I—that is—Oh, mayn't I go?" burst out Paul Gale. "I'd like to help. Andy and Frank have done so much for me. Can't I go?"

"I'm afraid you're not strong enough," objected Mr. Racer.

"Oh, but I am!" insisted the lad. "I believe it will do me good. But can't you ask Dr. Martin?"

They were saved the necessity of calling the physician up on the telephone for he drove past at that moment and Mr. Racer hailed him. The case was soon stated.

"I agree with you that it is a good thing to go after Andy and Frank," said the medical man. "As for taking Paul along—hum—well, I don't know."

"Oh, I'm all right, doctor," insisted the lad again.

"You certainly have gained much strength in the last few days," went on the physician. "If you take care of yourself perhaps it won't do you any harm. But don't exert yourself too much."

"No," promised Paul eagerly. Then, as he hurried to his room to get ready, Dr. Martin said to Mr. Racer in a low voice:

"I'm not so sure but what it won't be a good thing for him. He lost his memory in a storm, you know, and if there is a little blow out in the bay his mind may be restored again. We doctors don't know as much about the brain as we'd like to. It can't do any harm to try it, especially as you are going in a big, safe boat. Good luck to you."

Mrs. Racer parted with her husband and Paul rather tearfully. The signs of the storm increased as the two went down to the pier. Mr. Racer found his friend there, and Mr. Lacey readily agreed to the use of his boat.

"I'll pilot you to the island myself," he said generously, "and I'll tell the engineer and crew to make all the speed they can. We've got lots of gasolene, and I guess we can weather almost any blow that's due this time of year."

They were soon speeding away from the pier, and the sharp prow of the Norma was turned in the direction of Cliff Island. Clouds were rapidly gathering and there was an occasional muttering of thunder.

Paul Gale kept to the cabin, as the wind had freshened since they started and there was quite a sea on, that sent the spume and spray of the salty waves across the deck.

They were longer reaching the island than they counted on, and just before they sighted it the storm broke in all its fury. But they were prepared for it, and the Norma plunged gallantly ahead through the smashing big seas of green water that at times buried her nose out of sight. Suddenly there was a slight crash forward and a shiver seemed to go through the gasolene craft.

"What's that?" cried Mr. Racer in alarm.

"We hit something," said Mr. Lacey. "Danforth, just see what it is, will you?" he asked of the mate, who was in the snug cabin with the owner and his guests.

But Mr. Racer did not wait. He rushed up on deck. The Norma had been brought to quarter speed and the silk merchant could see, floating off to one side, a small wrecked skiff. It seemed familiar to him.

"That's what we hit, sir," explained one of crew. "Cut it right in two."

"It's my boys' boat!" cried Mr. Racer. "The one they carry on the Gull. I know the shape of it, and I can see the red circle on the stern. Were they in it when we cut it down?"

"No, sir. I don't think so, sir," answered sailor as he noted the anguish of Mr. Racer. "I saw it immediately after we struck, and I'm almost sure no one was in it. I'd have seen them, sir, if there was, sir."

"Oh, but perhaps they were in it!" cried Mr. Racer. "Their sailboat may have foundered and they might have had to take to the small boat. Oh, Mr. Lacey. We must pick up my boys!" he added, as the owner came on deck.

"Of course. Captain Nelson, put back and circle around that boat. Light the searchlight and play it on the wreck."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The Norma began the search amid the storm and gathering darkness, while the father peered over the side in anguished fear.



CHAPTER XXIV

THE ESCAPE

"Climb up, Andy! Climb up! Every time you see a lightning flash!"

"But where are we going, Frank?"

"Out of this cave! Don't you see what has happened? There's a hole in the roof, and it slopes right down to us here. Crawl up on your hands and knees, but don't slip back. It's our only chance!"

It was a few minutes after the stunning crash that had actually opened up a way of escape for the two lads imprisoned in the cave. Frank was quick to see and take advantage of it. A sort of sloping way was now before them, and it was possible to crawl up along it.

But there was danger, too, for the rain was pouring in through the opening in the roof—a veritable stream of water, probably diverted from some puddles that had gathered from the heavy downpour. And to climb up through this, along a muddy, slimy slope, was no easy task. But it was their only means of escape, for back of them the tide was still rising relentlessly.

"All ready, Andy?" called Frank.

"As ready as I ever shall be," was the grim answer.

"Well, don't move except when you see where you're going by means of the flashes. It's the only safe way. Go ahead; I'll follow."

Slowly the younger lad took his feet and hands from the niches. He was stiff from holding the same position so long, but his young blood was soon in circulation again. He crawled out on the slope. It was quite steep, but considerable earth had been jarred and washed from it so that it was no worse than going up the peaked roof of a house, and Andy and his brother had often done this in carrying out some of their boyish pranks.

Slowly and painfully the younger lad toiled upward, followed by his anxious brother. It was but a comparatively short distance up which to climb, but going on their hands and knees made it seem doubly long.

Finally it was accomplished, however, and Andy crawled out of the ragged hole and stretched out on the wet earth above, almost exhausted.

"Come! Get up!" cried Frank, as he finished the perilous journey and sought to raise his brother. "You mustn't lie there. You'll get cold and stiff. Move around—get warmed up. We're safe now, Andy! Safe!"

"Yes, I know, but I'm so tired—I—I want a rest."

"There'll be time enough to rest when we get to some shelter. It's raining cats and dogs, and we can't get much wetter. Let's see if we can make out where we are, and maybe we can get back to camp, and find some grub. I'm starved."

"So am I. What time is it?"

"My watch has stopped," answered Frank, looking at the timepiece by a lightning flash. "The water did it."

"Mine's not going either. Well, let's see if we can find our camp. Some grub wouldn't be bad. Only we've got to look out for that man."

"Which side shall we go down?" asked Frank, as they paused on the summit of the cliff.

"It's hard to decide," answered Andy. "Let's try this," and he motioned to the left.

Down they went, slipping and stumbling, pausing now and then to get their breaths, and again to speak of the terrible fate they had escaped.

"Don't mention it any more," begged Andy with a shudder. "I can't bear to think of that tide rising—rising all the while, and no way of getting out!"

"Lightning probably struck a place on where the earth was thinner than anywhere else made a hole, and the rain did the rest," was Frank's theory.

Drenched to the skin, covered with mud from the climb up the slope, tired and weary, the Racer boys stumbled on in the darkness. Sometimes they fell over huge boulders or were tripped on outcropping tree roots. But they did not halt until they were on the sandy beach, where the big waves were pounding. There, at least, the going was easier.

"Now, which way?" asked Andy, as they halted to rest.

"It's hard to say. Camp might lie in either direction, and it's too dark to see. I guess it doesn't make much difference. We'll come up to it by morning, anyhow, if we can keep going that long. Let's head off this way."

Frank started to circle the island shore to the right, and Andy followed. At times the rain would cease, and then it would begin its downpour again. The lightning was less frequent, but they did not need the flashes to guide them now.

That night seemed almost a year long, they said afterward. Sometimes they fell from very weariness, only to get up again and struggle on. Frank placed his arm about his brother and half carried him at times.

They covered many miles. As yet they had seen no indication of their "camp," as they called the place on the beach opposite where they had left the Gull riding at anchor, and where they had placed their small boat and a supply of provisions.

"We must have come the wrong way, and have almost made a circuit of the island," said Andy wearily.

"Never mind, it can't be much farther off now," and Frank tried to speak cheerfully. But it was hard work.

The rain had ceased for some time now, and looking up the boys saw the faint gleam of stars.

"It's going to clear," observed Andy.

"Yes," assented Frank.

Another mile was covered. A dim glow seemed to suffuse the sky. It grew brighter.

"It's morning!" cried the older lad.

"Yes, and look there!" suddenly exclaimed Andy. He pointed ahead. "There's where our camp was," he added.

Frank gazed for a moment in silence. Then he gasped:

"But our small boat's gone."

"And so is the Gull!" fairly shouted the younger lad as he waved his hand toward the place where it had been anchored. "That man has taken it and gone off! We're marooned Cliff Island!"



CHAPTER XXV

A LUCKY QUARREL

Frank stared uncomprehendingly toward the slowly heaving waters of the bay.

"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "The Gull must be somewhere else. We're at the wrong place."

"I only wish we were," spoke Andy dubiously.

"But you can see for yourself that this is where we camped. Here is where our small boat was pulled up on shore, where we slept under it, and, if you want any better evidence—here's grub! Grub, Frank do you hear? We shan't starve, even if we are marooned!"

He raced to a clump of scrub bushes some distance up on shore and began pulling out boxes and tins.

"Good!" shouted Frank. "I never was so hungry before in my life. Now if we could only make a fire!"

But that was out of the question. Every bit of driftwood, of which there was a big supply, was soaking wet. The boys had plenty of matches, in waterproof boxes, but they would be useless until some dry fuel was available.

"Well, it can't be helped," said Andy, as he proceeded to open a tin of corned beef. "We ought to be thankful for this. Open that tin box of crackers. Luckily they're not wet. We can make a meal off this, and we'll have a cooked dinner. I wonder—why—blub—ugh—that man—um—lum—didn't—"

"Oh, don't try to talk and eat at the same time," requested Frank with a laugh—the first since their adventure in the cave. "Take your time." For Andy was fairly devouring the corned beef.

"Hum! I guess you can't be very hungry, or you wouldn't take your time," retorted the younger lad. "Hurry up with those crackers. And there's some jam, somewhere. Oh, for a cup of hot coffee."

"Cheese it!" cried Frank sharply. "Do you want to make me throw something at you? But what were you trying to say when you had your mouth full a while ago?"

"I said it was a wonder that man didn't take this grub with him when he took our boat and the Gull."

"I don't know. Maybe he couldn't find the food. But what makes you think he took our boats?"

"They're gone; aren't they?"

"Yes, but I think the tide carried away the small boat. The waves came up unusually high, as you can see by the marks in the sand. We didn't pull the skiff up far enough."

"What about the Gull?"

"Well, I admit he might have taken that, though there is a possibility that it dragged the anchor. We'll take a look all around the island after we get things in shape. If we've got to stay here a while we might as well be comfortable."

"I don't believe we'll stay very long."

"Why not?"

"Because dad will start out and search for us if we don't get home pretty soon, and the first place he'll head for will be this island."

"Guess you're right. Pass the jam. My! but this tastes good!"

"Good! I should say so!" agreed Andy.

They made a rude but substantial breakfast, washing it down with plenty of spring water which they found a little way inland. Then they talked matters over.

The first thing to do, they agreed, was to look for the Gull, and to this end they once more ascended the cliff and looked all about. She was not in sight, nor was there any other craft on the waters that now sparkled in the sunlight, for the storm had passed away.

"The next thing to do is to make another circuit of the island," went on Frank. "We'll do it as quickly as we can, and perhaps we can come upon our boat. It may have drifted ashore."

Together they started off. They planned to keep up the search all day, taking their lunch with them, and camping out at night, as they had done before.

"But first we'll hoist a distress signal, in case dad comes for us, and we'll leave a note saying where we have gone and that we'll come back," suggested Frank.

This was done. They tied one of their coats to a tall tree well up on the cliff, where it could be seen by a boat coming from the direction of Harbor View. Then, leaving a note, written on a piece of paper from a cracker box, they set out.

Up to noon they had found nothing, but an hour later Andy, who was in the lead, suddenly uttered a cry as he turned a little promontory and started down a level stretch of beach.

"There's our man!" he cried. "He's just come ashore, and the wrecked motor boat is there too! It must have drifted away and he went after it. He has a man with him!"

Frank saw what his brother indicated. Disembarking from a large rowboat were two men—one the mysterious stranger who had imprisoned them in the cave. The other seemed to be a boatman, or fisherman. The two were pulling up on the beach the battered hull of the wrecked motor boat, now more dilapidated than ever.

"What shall we do?" asked Andy.

"Let's go right up to him," proposed Frank.

"He ought to be afraid of us now, and he may play right into our hands."

They started forward, but, were suddenly stopped by loud voices between the two men, neither of whom had yet noticed the approach of our heroes.

"I want my pay now!" they heard the boatman declare.

"And you won't get it until I'm ready to give it to you," retorted the mysterious man angrily. "Now you help me get this boat farther up on the sand."

"I won't do another thing! I'm done with you. Give me my money!"

"No!"

"Then take that!"

With a quick motion the boatman drew back his fist and sent it with all his force into the face of the mysterious man. The latter reeled under the blow, staggered for a second, and then toppled over backward on the sand, falling heavily.

"Try to cheat me, will you!" shouted the man. Then he caught sight of the boys. A change seemed to come over him. He shoved out the big rowboat, ran out after it, holding to the stern and then leaped in. The next moment he was pulling away lustily.

The mysterious man lay motionless on the sands.

"Now's our chance!" cried Frank. "That was a lucky quarrel for us. We can capture him. That boatman saved us a hard job. Come on, Andy!"

Together the brothers ran forward.



CHAPTER XXVI

THE PRISONER

"What had we better do to him?" asked Andy, as they neared the prostrate man.

"Tie him up so he can't get away again," replied Frank, as he glanced at the seaman who was rapidly rowing away. "If we keep him, now that we've got him, he may tell us what we want to know. And we've got the wreck of the motor boat, too. We sure ought to get at the bottom of this mystery now."

"Well, we deserve something after all we went through," remarked the younger lad, as he thought of the rising tide in the cave.

"That fellow is in a hurry all right," went on Frank, with a wave of his hand toward the sailor who was now some distance out. "I guess he hit him a pretty hard blow."

"Maybe he killed that man, and is afraid we'll arrest him," suggested Andy.

"Nonsense! I don't believe that man is dead."

They were close to him now and stopped to observe the quiet figure. They hesitated for a moment, for, though they had made up their minds to make the man a prisoner, it was the first time they had done anything of the sort, and, naturally, they were a little timid.

Suddenly the figure on the sands stirred, and there came a murmur from the mysterious man.

"If we're going to do anything, we'd better get at it," suggested Andy. "He'll come to his senses in a minute and we'll have our hands full. He's a powerful fellow."

"That's so. I wonder where there's some rope?" asked Frank.

Andy motioned to the wreck of the motor boat, near which the man lay.

"There's plenty," he said. "They had a long rope to tow it with. I'll get some."

Holding the cord in readiness, the two brothers approached the man, one on either side.

"You take his feet, and I'll attend to his hands," whispered Frank. "Have a slip-noose ready to put on, and pull it tight. Then take several turns and we'll truss him up."

They worked silently and rapidly. Andy slipped the coil of rope about the man's ankles, and pulled the noose taut. As he was doing this the man stirred and murmured:

"I'll get even with you for this, Hank Splane!"

"Quick! He'll come to in a minute!" whispered Andy.

"I've got him," answered Frank. As one of the man's arms was partly under him the lad had to pull it out before he could slip the noose around it. But he finally accomplished this, and, just as he had it tight, the fellow suddenly sat up.

"Here! What's this? Splane, are you crazy to tie me up this way? Let me go, I say, or I'll make you sorry for this. Let me go, I say!"

He was struggling violently, swaying to and fro as he sat on the sands. Then his vision, which was probably obscured by the blow he had received, cleared, and he saw the two boys holding the ends of the ropes that bound him.

"Oh, it's you; is It?" he gasped, plainly astonished. "Didn't I tell you to stop following me? I won't have it! If you don't—" He stopped short. A look of wonder followed by one of alarm came over his face.

"The cave!" he exclaimed. "I left you in the cave. The tide was rising. You—you—"

"Yes, we escaped, but no thanks to you!" exclaimed Frank sternly. "You meant us to be drowned, but we found a way out, and now we have you just where we want you, you rascal! You'll tell us what we want to know, you'll clear up the mystery of Paul Gale, and you'll confess what you want of this motor boat now, I guess."

"Suppose I refuse?"

"Then we'll take you before the authorities.

"Ha! Ha! A likely story. Marooned on this lonely island you can't do much. You see I happen to know your boat is gone, and—"

"Gone, yes, because you took her," interrupted Andy.

"No, I didn't take either your sailboat or the rowboat," spoke the man simply. "I wanted to, but some one else got ahead of me. I had to row away from the island as the storm came up, and it was no joke, either."

"Then who did take our boats?" asked Andy blankly.

"I don't know," replied the man. "But I do know that you have more than you bargain for if you think you can make me talk. There is no one on this island but ourselves, now that Splane played me a mean trick, and deserted. Talk of authorities! Ha! Ha! It's a joke," and he pretended to be amused.

"We'll soon be off the island," said Frank, with more confidence than he felt. "Our father will be looking for us, and may arrive at any minute."

The man uttered an exclamation beneath his breath. Evidently he had not counted on this. The two boys stood regarding him. Now that they had him, they hardly knew what to do with the fellow.

With a suddenness that was surprising, considering that his feet were tied, the man managed to stand upright. Then, with a mighty effort, he tried to loosen the rope around his hands.

"When I get loose I'll show you what it means to trifle with me!" he shouted. "You'll be sorry you ever meddled in this matter! Wait until I get this rope off!"

He tried desperately to get it off his hands, and Andy saw the strands loosening.

"Quick, Frank!" cried the younger lad. "We've got to take some more turns on that! I'll help! He can't hurt us now!"

The two brothers fairly threw themselves on their prisoner and all three went down in a heap on the sands.



CHAPTER XXVII

SEARCHING THE WRECK

There was a hard struggle on the beach of lonely Cliff Island. And the boys did not have such an advantage as it would seem at first, even though the hands and feet of their mysterious prisoner were bound.

He was big and strong, and he had evidently been in tight places before, for he knew how to handle himself. Every time he got a chance, as he and his captors rolled together over the sands, he would strike out with his two hands at once. Several times he hit Frank or Andy glancing blows, and once he gave the elder lad such a bop on the side of the head that the boy saw stars for a moment.

Again he hit Andy, and knocked him several feet distant so that at first Frank feared his brother had been hurt.

"I'm all right!" shouted the plucky Racer lad, as he jumped and came on to renew the struggle. "Hold his head down in the sand, Frank, and I'll tie some more ropes around his feet!"

"You will not!" yelled the man, and as Frank took his brother's advice, and pressed the man's head down in the yielding sand, Andy endeavored to slip another noose about the feet, for the boys had cut the tow rope into several pieces.

Like a madman the fellow kicked out with both feet. Frank saw his object, and uttered a warning cry.

"Keep away!" shouted the elder lad. "If he hits you it will be all day with you!"

"That's what it will!" yelled the infuriated man.

"Watch me!" cried Andy with a laugh. "I didn't learn to throw a lasso for nothing." He swung the noose in a circle about his head, and, as the man raised his feet in the air, to ward off any personal attack, Andy skillfully tossed the coils about his feet. They fell around the shoes, and in an instant Andy had pulled his end of the rope taut, making two coils about the prisoner.

"Now I have him, Frank," he called. "I'll take a turn around part of the boat, and pull. Then you tie down his arms."

It was a good plan, and well carried out. With a turn of the rope about a part of the wrecked motor boat, Andy pulled the man's menacing legs down flat on the sands. He could no longer raise them.

"I have him!" exclaimed Frank a moment later, as he passed several turns of the rope he held about the still bound hands and arms of their prisoner. "Now we'll truss him up!"

The man was practically helpless now, and realized it. Suddenly he ceased his struggles and when the brothers had completed their work, and raised him to a sitting position on the sand, he could do no more harm.

"Well, I guess you've got me," he growled. "What are you going to do with me?"

"It depends on what you tell us," said Frank.

"I'll tell you nothing!"

"Then we'll take you where you will. I guess when Paul Gale sees you he'll remember something about you that will put us on the right track."

"Paul Gale! That's not his name. It's—you say he'll remember?" and the man interrupted himself in some confusion. "Has he lost his mind?" The question was an eager one.

"He can't remember—" began Andy, but Frank stopped him with a sudden gesture.

"When you tell us what we want to know, we'll answer some of your questions," the elder lad said. "Come on, Andy. Let's have a look at the wrecked motor boat. Maybe we can find some clues there."

"You keep away from that boat!" cried the man savagely. "It's mine. I order you to keep away!" He struggled desperately to get loose, but could not.

"We'll do as we please now," said Frank. "You had your way long enough. We're going to solve this mystery. Come, Andy."

The man glared at them, but he could not help himself. He watched them go toward the boat and muttered threats at them. But the boys were not frightened.

The interior of the motor boat, which once had been an expensive craft, was all confusion. It plainly showed the effects of the fire and explosion, and the battering of the sea. The hull, however, was sound, or it would have sunk.

"What do you suppose is in it that he's been looking for?" asked Andy.

"I don't know," replied Frank. "Gold perhaps, or jewels."

"Maybe valuable papers."

"Perhaps. Well, let's see what we can find."

They poked about in the engine cockpit, looked in all the lockers, and took out some of the broken seats to search under them, but came upon nothing of value. There were many splintered and charred boards, and these they removed, but all to no purpose.

"If anything is here it's well hidden," remarked Frank at length.

"This is a fine boat, and with a little fixing could be made good again."

They went on with the search. At times the man laughed at them, and again he harshly urged them to leave the wreck alone. But the boys searched on. The sun rose higher and the day grew hot.

"I wonder if dad will come for us?" ventured Andy.

"Sure," asserted his brother.

"I suppose they'll say we did wrong to come here, and run so many risks," went on Andy.

"Well, we meant it all for the best, and it has turned out fine," declared Frank. "They won't worry much, I guess. I wish they'd come for us though. I don't know what to do with this man."

"That's right. Well, keep on looking. Dad may come by afternoon."

If the boys had only known of the cutting down of their rowboat and the intense anxiety of Mr. Racer they would not have been so confident of the lack of worry on the part of those at home.

"Say, are you fellows going to keep me here like this all day, in the hot sun without shelter and nothing to eat?" the prisoner finally exclaimed. "It's not right!"

"Well, perhaps it isn't," agreed Frank, "but it wasn't right for you to shut us in the cave, either. However, we will give you something to eat, if you promise not to attack us if we loose your hands."

"Loosen only one hand, and don't trust him," whispered Andy.

"Oh, I suppose I've got to promise," grumbled the man. "I'm half starved."

"So am I," remarked Andy to his brother. "Let's quit searching now, and go for grub. We have plenty of it at our camp, and we can bring it here. Guess we'd better camp here, too. It's a better place, and we can't move him down very well."

To this Frank agreed, and they soon had their food moved to the new location. They looked well to the bonds of the prisoner before leaving him, even for a few minutes. Then, when a fire had been built, and some food prepared, they loosened the ropes from one of his hands so that he might feed himself. Andy and Frank were seated in front of him, eating, when Andy happened to turn around.

He saw that the man had in some manner, secured possession of a piece of heavy driftwood. This club he was raising to bring down on the head of Frank, who was nearest to him. There was no time to call out, for the stick was already descending, and Andy did the next best thing.

With a quick shove of his foot he sent his brother sprawling over on his side in the sand, while the club came down harmlessly, but only a few inches away.



CHAPTER XXVIII

BUILDING A RAFT

"What was the matter?" gasped Frank, somewhat dazed, as he crawled away and sat up. "Why did you shove me over?"

"Don't you see?" asked Andy quickly. "He was going to hit you! Then he'd have tackled me I guess. Look out! He's at it again!"

With a snarl of rage the man had again raised the club. But Frank was too quick for him. Fairly leaping at him, the sturdy lad tore the piece of driftwood away and tossed it some distance off.

"So! That's how you keep your promise, is it?" the elder lad asked. "We won't give you any more chances. We'll tie him up again, Andy, and let him go hungry for a while."

The man glared hatred at them, and tried to fight them with the hand they had freed so that he might eat. But the two lads were more than a match for him in his condition, and soon had him made fast again. He had eaten only a part of his dinner when he thought he saw this chance to make his escape.

"Are you going to leave me like this?" he growled, when Andy and Frank resumed their interrupted meal. "I'll get sunstruck."

"It would almost serve you right," murmured Frank, "but we'll return good for evil. Let's make a sort of shelter, Andy."

With pieces of driftwood they raised a framework over their prisoner as he sat on the sands. On the boards they put sea weed, of which there was an abundance, and soon the man was sheltered from the hot sun.

"We'll have to make something like that for ourselves to-night," observed Frank.

"Yes, and it isn't going to be very pleasant staying here with that man, even if he is tied up," went on his brother. "I'm afraid he'll get loose in the night and attack us."

"We'll have to look well to the knots, and keep a sort of watch I suppose," remarked Frank. "But let's go back and finish searching in that wreck. I wonder what it is that's in it, and where it is?"

But the boys found no answer to their questions, though they made diligent search.

"I don't believe it's here," said Andy at length. "Whatever there was Paul must have taken away before he lost his memory, and he may have hidden it somewhere else. But I have another plan, Frank?"

"No jokes, I hope."

"No, this is serious. The more I think of staying here with that man all night, the less I like it."

"I don't like it either, but what can we do! Dad may think we're staying away too long, and he may come for us. He knows we started for Cliff Island. Then again he may not come for several days, as he knows we've got lots of food. And our distress signal doesn't seem to attract any attention."

"No, and that's why I think we oughtn't to stay here any longer. It is very seldom that vessels come here, and we haven't much chance of being taken off. We ought to get away and in the path of the fishing schooners. Then we would be picked up."

"Yes, but how are we going to get off? We haven't a boat."

"I know, but we can make a raft. There's no end of wood here, and we have plenty of rope left after tying that man up, with which to bind the planks together. There are some nails in that motor boat wreck, too, and some tools. We could make a raft good enough to take us far enough out so we would be picked up. We might even make the main land. There are two paddles in the Swallow."

"What are we going to do with him—leave him here?" and he nodded toward the prisoner.

"We'll have to take him along," said Andy. "We're not going to lose him after we had so much trouble in finding him."

"Well, perhaps it's the best thing to do," agreed Frank, after thinking it over. "But we can't get it done in time to leave to-day. It's late afternoon now."

"No, but we can start it, finish it the first thing in the morning, and leave as early as possible. We ought to be home by to-morrow easily."

"I wish we could be. If we could only run the Swallow."

"It wouldn't be safe, in the condition she's in. The raft is the only thing."

They ceased their useless searching of the motor boat, and began gathering large pieces of driftwood. Their prisoner in his seaweed shelter watched them curiously.

"What are you up to now?" he asked in his surly voice.

"You'll see soon enough," answered Frank. He had no idea of telling their plans.

It was not so easy to build a raft that would hold three as Andy had supposed. But they did manage to get the framework of it together. Then they had to think of a shelter for themselves, and built one near that of the prisoner. They also gathered wood for a campfire and made preparations for supper.

"Am I going to starve?" demanded the man, as they made no effort to loosen his bonds so that he might eat. "I'm thirsty, too."

"We'll feed you and give you a drink," spoke Frank. "We aren't going to take any more chances."

And this they did, putting pieces of food in the man's mouth, and holding up a tin cup for him to drink from.

They divided the night into watches, each taking turns. While one slept the other would sit by the fire to see that the desperate man did not loosen his bonds.

It was Andy's trick, and he was very tired. In spite of himself his head would nod at times. He even walked up and down to get rid of the sleepy feeling but it came back. As he sat by the fire his head swayed to and fro.

"I'll just close my eyes for a half minute," he told himself. "Just for a few seconds. I—I'll—"

Andy was asleep and in the shelter where the prisoner lay bound there was a movement. Eager and cruel eyes watched the lad on guard. Both Andy and Frank were slumbering now.

"It's my only chance," murmured the man as he heard their heavy breathing. "My only chance." Then he began rolling over and over on the sand, out of his shelter.



CHAPTER XXIX

"SAIL HO!"

Frank, in the heavy slumber that had come to him as soon as his watch was over, seemed to smell something burning. It was like the mingled odor of charred rope and scorched leather and came pungently to his nose.

At first he paid no heed to it, but turned restlessly in his slumber to compose himself more comfortably on the bunch of seaweed that served as his bed. Then the odor became stronger.

"Andy must be too near the fire, and is burning his shoes," he thought in a sort of hazy way. "He ought to be more careful. I guess—"

Frank was wide-awake in a moment, for he heard some one exclaim aloud as if in pain.

"What's that?" cried the lad, sitting up. The smell of burnt leather and rope was even more noticeable. Frank peered out of the shelter toward the campfire.

A strange sight met his eyes. There was Andy fast asleep, and there was the mysterious man, lying at full length on the sand, holding his rope-bound feet as near to the blaze as he dared. He was burning off the cords that bound his legs that he might be free, and it was the smell of charred rope and leather that had awakened Frank.

The explanation came to him in an instant. The man had seen Andy fall asleep. He had rolled from his shelter over and over on the sand and had gotten near enough to the blaze to nearly, accomplish his purpose. Frank dashed out.

"Andy! Andy!" he called. "Wake up, our prisoner is trying to get away!"

The man, with a snarl of rage, tried to burst the ropes that still held his legs, but they were not yet burned enough to break. He had not risked loosening his hands in that way.

Frank, in another instant, was beside their prisoner. He had a spare piece of rope, and this he quickly passed about the man's ankles, for fear some of the other strands had become weak.

"What's the matter?" demanded Andy, rubbing his eyes and leaping up. "Did I fall asleep? Did he get away?"

"You were asleep all right," replied Frank, "But he didn't escape. I guess we'll have to both watch after this."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the younger lad contritely.

"That's all right," spoke Frank kindly. "You couldn't help it. We had no sleep last night. Now you get back where you came from," he ordered the man.

"Aren't you going to help me. I can't walk."

"Then roll in the same as you rolled out."

There was no help for it, and the prisoner, muttering threats against the lads, was forced to roll over and over on the sand until he was back in his shelter. Thereafter Andy and Frank both stayed awake until morning came.

They resumed work on the raft immediately after a hasty breakfast. In order that their prisoner might be taken to the mainland, or out as far as they might go before a ship picked them up, they made a sort of platform, on which he could sit. They also improvised a mast on which they stretched a piece of canvas they found in the wrecked motor boat. By noon their rude vessel was completed.

"Now for the launching," exclaimed Frank. "It's nearly high tide, and if we can work it a little farther down the beach the tide will do the heaviest work for us. Then we'll go aboard."

"I'm not going on that thing!" snarled their prisoner.

"Yes, you are, if we have to carry you," declared Frank.

"But I may be drowned. You ought to take off these ropes if you're going to do such a fool-hardy thing as to sail on that raft."

"Not much!" exclaimed Frank determinedly "We've had enough of your tricks. You'll go on that raft, and you'll stay tied up."

"But if I give you my promise?" whined the man, who seemed to have lost much of his bravado.

"Nixy on your promises," exclaimed Andy. "Come on, Frank, let's work the raft down to shore a bit."

It was not without much labor that the boys succeeded in getting the heavy mass of driftwood down where the tide would float it for them. The man watched them with a scowling face, occasionally muttering to himself.

"Better take something to eat along with us; hadn't we?" asked Andy, when they were waiting for the rising tide.

"Sure," assented Frank. "We may not be picked up until along toward night. And we'll want water. Lucky we've got some empty cracker tins to carry it in."

They put the food and water aboard, rigged up their rude sail, and then carried their prisoner aboard, as it would be awkward to handle him after the raft was afloat.

Meanwhile they had looked eagerly for any sign of an approaching sail, but had seen nothing.

"Well, I guess we can get aboard," spoke Frank at length. "It's been quite an adventure for us, and I'm glad it's about over. Paul Gale will soon know who he is."

"We'll see," sneered the man.

The raft was afloat. With their paddles the boys began to work it slowly from shore. The wind caught their small sail.

Suddenly Frank, who was seated ahead of his brother, uttered a cry.

"Sail ho! Sail ho!" he shouted.

"Where?" demanded Andy.

"Right over there and she's headed this way," said Frank, pointing. "It's a big motor boat. I believe it's coming to rescue us, Andy! Let's wait a bit!"

Eagerly they looked to where a speedy craft was plowing over the waters of the great bay. Frantically they shouted and waved anything they could find until answering signals told them that theirs had been seen.



CHAPTER XXX

THE ACCUSATION—CONCLUSION

"Frank! Andy!" came a hail from the swift motor boat.

"It's dad!" cried the two brothers together.

"Yes, and Paul Gale is with him!" added the older lad. "They arrived just in time. Now we'll be all right."

"And this will wind you up, Mr. Man!" exclaimed Frank, looking at the prisoner.

"We'll see," was the sullen answer.

"We might as well put back to shore, and unload our stuff," proposed Andy.

"No, stay on the raft," suggested Frank. "I will be easier to get in the motor boat then, as she can't run in too close to shore."

It was a good idea, for the speedy craft of Mr. Lacey, as it proved to be, could not have come in very close. But the raft made a good landing float.

"Well, Andy and Frank!" exclaimed Mr. Racer, when he could grasp their hands. "You've given us a fine scare."

"We didn't mean to," spoke Andy.

"And we have the man who caused all the trouble," added Frank. "He's a prisoner, dad. See, Paul. Here's the man we've been after."

Paul Gale pressed to the side of the motor craft as it floated near the raft. At once a strange change came over the lad's face. His cheeks flushed and his eyes grew bright. There was a look of fear, and then it gave place to one of anger. As for the prisoner he tried to turn his head away, but his bonds held him.

"Ha! Now I remember!" cried Paul. "I know you, James Shallock! I remember all! It all comes back to me when I see you face to face."

"Who is he?" asked Frank eagerly.

"And who are you, if you can tell us?" demanded Mr. Racer. This was more important than learning about the prisoner. Frank and Andy thought it even more to the point than learning how their father had come to their rescue. While, as for Mr. Racer, as long as his boys were safe he could forgive them the anxiety they had caused him. "Who are you, Paul?" demanded the silk merchant.

"I am—I am—" the lad hesitated. He denied to be undergoing a severe mental struggle. "I am Paul—Bartlett!" he cried. "That's it! I remember it all now! And this man, who tried to swindle my sick father and myself, ought to be in jail!"

"That's where he'll be, soon," declared Frank.

"Tell us about it," urged Andy.

"How did you happen to come for us, dad?" asked Frank.

"We came here as a last hope, after we ran down your rowboat at sea, and found the Gull adrift."

"The Gull adrift!" exclaimed Frank. "That explains it then. Our rowboat was washed away by the tide. The Gull pulled her anchor in the storm."

"And we thought you were drowned or had fallen overboard," said the father. "Thank the Lord you are safe! It will be good news to your mother. But let us hear Paul's story."

"This man is a scoundrel," began the lad who had so suddenly recovered his memory. "For a number of years he was my father's confidential secretary. My father, who had large business interests fell ill, and this man took advantage of him to secure important papers. He sought to ruin my father, and enrich himself.

"There came a time when my father could no longer attend to business, and he went to a sanitarium to be cured. I was an only son, and as there were no other near relatives I stopped at a seaside hotel not far from here. I had only just arrived when I found that this man, James Shallock, was following me. I had certain important papers of my father's and I knew he was trying to get them away from me as they were very valuable.

"I made up my mind to escape. Perhaps I acted foolishly, but I was very much afraid of this man. I decided to go away in my motor boat, which my father had given me just before I went to the seaside hotel. One night I started out, taking the papers with me. I was all alone, and I decided to go to some quiet place in my boat, and there stay until I could communicate with my father. I hoped to throw this man off my track.

"I left one evening, and soon found myself in this bay. I did not know much about navigation, and I soon got off my course in the darkness. Then in the morning the storm came up, and my boat hit some obstruction which threw the steering gear out of order.

"Next something went wrong with my engine, so I shut it down, hid the papers, and drifted at the mercy of the wind and waves, for no boat answered my signals of distress. The storm grew worse, and all the next day I was driven about. Then came a calm, but I could not make land, nor were my signals of distress answered. I drifted farther and farther, and as I had no food or water I soon became partly delirious, I suppose.

"Then came another storm, and I saw some jagged rocks, there was no way of avoiding them. I thought of leaping overboard for I am a good swimmer, but my foot caught in an electric wire. I pulled it from place as I fell, injuring my arm, and this made a short circuit. There was some gasolene, from a leaky tank, on the floor of the cockpit, and this caught fire from the electric spark.

"The storm grew worse. I did not know what to do. Then came an explosion and I found myself in the water. I remember some one calling to me, and taking me on board a sailing vessel, and then it all became a blank. My mind left me."

"That was when we rescued you," spoke Frank, as Paul Bartlett finished. "But what did you do with the important papers?"

"Wait. Let me think," pleaded the lad. "I put them—"

They all leaned eagerly forward to hear answer. The mysterious man struggled vainly at his bonds.

"I put them in one of the cylinders of the engine," cried the lad. "One of the cylinders was out of commission. I shut off the water supply, took off the head and stuffed the papers between the outer wall and the inner one. They ought to be there now."

"No wonder we couldn't find them," exclaimed Frank.

"And where is your father now?" asked Mr. Racer.

"Still in the sanitarium I hope," answered Paul. "That is the reason none of our advertisements about me were answered. My father did not see them, and I have no other relatives. His business was closed up, and his friends did not know where he or I had gone. But it's all right now. Oh, how I want to see my father!"

"We'll send him word at once, if you have his address," said Mr. Racer.

"And what shall we do with this man?" inquired Mr. Lacey.

"Jail is the place for him," declared Mr. Racer. "He is a desperate criminal to have followed Paul about as he did. Now, boys, get aboard, and we'll take Mr. James Shallock in with us also. Cast off the raft, and we'll go home."

"Wait until I get Paul's papers!" cried Frank.

It did not take long to remove one of the engine cylinder heads, and there, between the two walls, were the important papers, safe. They involved the possession of much property that Shallock hoped to get under his control.

They set out for the mainland with their sullen prisoner. He soon realized that his games were up, and when turned over to the authorities he made a partial confession. He admitted that he had followed Paul, soon after the lad left the hotel, hoping to get the papers. When the lad left in his motor boat the scoundrel lost track of him for a while. Then he learned of Paul's efforts to escape and set out after him. From the Racer boys the man learned of Paul's rescue, but naturally he would not tell what he wanted of him, and hurried away. He hung about Harbor View, hoping for a chance to get hold of the helpless lad, or steal the papers. That was the cause of his midnight visit to the Racer home.

Then he had an idea that the papers were in the boat, and he made a search for that. He found it floating at sea, and hiring a sailboat, started to tow it to land.

He was frightened by the Racer boys, however, and soon afterward, a storm coming up, the tow line parted and the Swallow was once more afloat. Shallock made another attempt to find it, and succeeded. Then he decided to tow it to Cliff Island so he might have plenty of time to search it.

The arrival of the boys spoiled his plans, and once more he fled, after imprisoning them in the cave.

He next hired a boatman to put him on the island with the wreck of the boat, but there was the quarrel which the boys witnessed, and once more the scoundrel's plans failed. The rest is known to my readers. Shallock confessed to setting fire to the sailboat of the Racer boys, and after a trial he was sent to jail for a long term.

Mr. Racer explained to the boys how he and Mr. Lacey had set out in search for them, and how they had run down the rowboat. Then sure, after a fruitless search in the storm, that his sons were drowned, the silk merchant was distracted. He was more so when the Gull was found adrift a little later, having dragged her anchor in the gale.

After that Mr. Racer, in the motor boat of Mr. Lacey, made a search up and down the coast for his sons' bodies. Paul Bartlett, who was much improved, went with them, and it was Paul who suggested the possibility of the boys still being on the island. Accordingly another trip was made there, with what result we have seen.

"Oh, I'm so glad I know who I am, and that I have a father!" exclaimed Paul, when word had been sent to the invalid in the sanitarium. "I thought I would never get my memory back."

"It was the shock of seeing Shallock the second time that did it," said Dr. Martin. "You are as good as ever now, Paul, and you won't need any more medicine."

And the doctor was right. The former invalid joined his father, who also recovered his health and Paul grew into a sturdy youth who had many good times with the Racer boys, and with Bob Trent. He also helped to play several jokes on Chet Sedley, the Harbor View dude, for Paul was as lively as was Andy.

"I declare I don't know what to do with of two boys," said Mrs. Racer in despair one day to her husband. "Here is the latest. Andy took out that Chet Sedley for a row, and dumped him overboard. Something ought to be done."

"I suppose they ought to be sent away school," said Mr. Racer reflectively. "They getting to be old enough now."

"Yes, a good quiet school would do them good," said his wife. "I think I know of right place, kept by an old professor who is very deep student. It is a nice quiet place."

"We'll send them there," decided Mr. Racer.

And how the Racer boys went to this same "quiet" school, and how they gave that same school a very rude, but very necessary, awakening will be related in the second volume of this series, to be called, "Frank and Andy at Boarding School; or, Rivals for Many Honors."

Paul went back to his sick father a few days after the mystery had been cleared up, taking the important papers with him. He gave Andy and Frank the wrecked motor boat, which they brought from Cliff Island and had repaired, so that it was a fine craft. In it the brothers and Bob Trent had many a trip.

Mr. Bartlett's health improved very much after his son joined him at the sanitarium. Though the truth about the lad's disappearance had been kept from him as much as possible, yet something of it had to be told, and this, naturally, made the invalid worry.

"But I am all right, now that you are safe, Paul," he said, affectionately patting his son on the shoulder. "I think I will soon be able to leave this place."

And he was, for his condition grew rapidly better after that. The finding of the important papers, without which much of his fortune would have gone to Shallock, no doubt aided in Mr. Bartlett's return to health.

"I should like to meet those brave Racer boys who aided you so much, Paul," said his father one day. "How would it do for you and me to take a trip to Harbor View?"

"Just the thing, dad!" exclaimed the boy, and thither they went. That Frank and Andy were glad to see their chum once more goes without saying, and in the repaired motor boat they went to the island where Frank and Andy had undergone such an experience, visiting the cave where the lads had been held prisoners.

Paul and his father remained at Harbor View for some weeks, and then business called Mr. Bartlett away. He left, promising to see his friends again soon.

"Come on," called Andy to Frank one day, "I've just thought of a fine trick to play on Chet Sedley."

"Not for mine!" exclaimed Frank. "I've had enough of your tricks for a while. I'm going fishing. We haven't much more time at the beach, as it will soon be time to go back to New York."

"And then for boarding school," exclaimed Andy, turning a handspring. "I heard dad talking to mother about it. Say! Maybe we won't have sport!"

"If we don't, it won't be your fault," spoke Frank.

Then he and his brother went for a run in the Swallow; and here we will take leave of them for a time.

THE END