“Looks like it,” said Bob excitedly, “but what’s she doing there? I don’t believe it is her after all, Nel.” “I know it is,” was the reply as the _Sylph_, headed obliquely across the river, chugged her fastest. “I’d know her anywhere!” “Wu-wu-wu-well,” stuttered Tom, “I du-du-du-don’t pr-pretend to knu-knu-know the bu-bu-boat, bu-bu-but I knu-knu-know the du-du-du-du-dog!” “He’s right,” exclaimed Bob. “That’s Barry on the cabin roof!” “Then they did get into the engine room,” said Nelson, his eyes fixed intently on the distant craft, “and they didn’t tow her. I wish,” he added, “that we had that revolver of yours, Bob.” “So do I,” answered Bob gravely. The little _Sylph_, as though comprehending the impatience of those she carried, dashed across the river. CHAPTER XXII—WHEREIN THE _VAGABOND_ IS RECOVERED AND THE THIEF IS CAPTURED The _Vagabond_ lay anchored close to shore, her nose pointing upstream and shaded by the drooping branch of a willow tree. Beside her, tugging gently at the painter, was the tender. On the cabin roof, stretched out at full length in a patch of hot sunshine, lay Barry. No other life was visible, and had it not been that the tender was tied to an awning stanchion and that the cabin door and hatch were wide open those on the _Sylph_ would have concluded that the person who had run away with the _Vagabond_ had rifled her of money and other valuables and abandoned her here. But at least a dozen yards separated her from the land and it was not likely that the thief would have swam ashore while there was a tender handy. “No, it was evident to the party on the _Sylph_ that whoever had taken the _Vagabond_ from the wharf at New London was still on board, and when they had approached to within a hundred yards Nelson slowed down the engine, resolved to get as near as possible to the _Vagabond_ without detection. Bob and Tom silently peeled off their coats, and Nelson followed suit, cinching in his leather belt in a businesslike way. “It’s funny about Barry,” said Nelson softly. “You’d think they’d have got rid of him.” “Oh, he probably made friends,” answered Bob. “I’m glad he did. They might have thrown him overboard.” “How many do you suppose there are?” asked Nelson as he opened the switch, shut off the gasoline and allowed the _Sylph_ to glide silently toward the enemy. Bob shook his head. Tom wanted to talk but realized that in his present excited state it would be idle to make the attempt. “I don’t believe there are more than two,” continued Nelson. “If there were, one of them would be sure to be up on deck.” “Suppose they’ll show fight?” asked Bob. “I hope they do,” answered Nelson earnestly, “I just hope they do!” “Well, but I don’t want any pistols flashed on me,” muttered Bob. “Get ready, Tommy. I’ll go forward and make fast. If we can sneak on board quietly and shut the doors and lock them maybe we can make terms.”