“I was bell-boying,” answered Tom calmly. “Besides, you fellows were having your joke and I thought you might as well enjoy it.” “It would have served you jolly well right,” replied Bob severely, “if we’d gone on and left you.” “I wouldn’t have cared.” “Oh, no, I suppose not,” said Nelson sarcastically. “I’d like to know what you’d have done.” “Stayed right there until I’d made another dollar or two and gone on to New York to Dan’s house.” “Huh! Dan’s father would have thrown you off the doorsteps! Think he’d have taken in such a looking thing as you were?” “I’d have risked it,” laughed Tom. “When’s Dan coming back?” “To-morrow morning. And as soon as he does we’re going to make trades for New Haven. I’m tired of loafing around here doing nothing but hunt for idiots,” said Nelson. “Meaning me, dearie?” asked Tom. “Hope you choke. Say, can we get back to the boat to-night? It’s raining harder than ever.” “What time is it?” asked Nelson. “Got your watch on, Bob?” “Quarter to twelve,” answered Bob. “I vote we stay here and be as comfortable as we can. Is there any more wood?” “Plenty. There are two or three old gunny sacks around and we can spread those out, put our oilskins on top and sleep finely. We can spread Tommy’s blanket over us.” So, after building the fire up high, they followed Nelson’s plan and, lying close together for warmth, were soon asleep, with the rain pelting a lullaby on the leaky roof. They awoke shivering at seven o’clock and started back to town. The sun was out bright and a mile of the muddy road warmed them up. They reached the hotel at half-past eight and went through the entire bill of fare. But it took time and consequently it was almost ten when they crossed the railroad tracks at the station and walked down the wharf. They had left Barry on board the evening before and Bob was calling himself names for deserting him for so long when Nelson, who was a few yards ahead, uttered a cry of astonishment and stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s the row?” asked Bob, hurrying to his side. Nelson looked dazedly at Bob and then at the water below them. And Bob and Tom, following his eyes with their own, understood. The _Vagabond_ had disappeared. CHAPTER XXI—TELLS OF THE SEARCH FOR THE _VAGABOND_ “Are you sure you left her here?” asked Tom. “Don’t be a fool, Tommy, if you can help it,” answered Bob shortly. “Of course we’re sure.” “Then—where is she?” “Well, if we knew we wouldn’t be standing here answering your idiotic questions,” replied Nelson. After which he and Bob, each having sat on Tom, regained some of their equanimity. “You don’t suppose anyone has swiped her, do you. Nel?” Bob asked anxiously. “Looks like it,” was the answer. “Only—how could they get in to start the engine?” “Are you sure you locked the door?” “Positive. And here’s the key. And the only other one is in the cabin, unless Dan has it; he had it a couple of days ago.”