"You're almost a poet," laughed Fred, "and there isn't wind enough to lift a feather. I think I'll take the oars and row." John offered no objection and Fred accordingly seated himself and began to row. The day was warm and the beams of the sun, which now was high in the eastern sky, were strongly reflected from the smooth waters of Lake Huron. Indeed, it was not long before the wind died away and the boys were nearly becalmed. "We're almost as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean, aren't we, Jack?" demanded Fred. "No, we are not," said John. "Not at all, thank you. We're not idle and we're not going to be. I'm going to have my crew keep on rowing." "I hope you'll set a good example." "That's just what I intend to do," said John. "You change places with me and I'll show you how the thing ought to be done." Without expressing the thought in his mind each boy was keeping a sharp outlook over the waters for the swift little _Gadabout_. Both somehow were expecting that the motor-boat either had not departed from the region or would surely return when morning came. An hour or more had elapsed, however, and no trace of the _Gadabout_ had been discovered. Far away over the waters the faint trace of smoke left by the passing lake steamers could be seen. "This is a great job we have been thrown into, isn't it, Jack?" demanded Fred at last. "Yes, I think it is," acknowledged John. "That letter of yours seems to make it worse, though. For the life of me I cannot understand how it came to Western Duck Island." "Maybe that man dropped it," suggested Fred. "Do you mean the smuggler?" "I guess that's what he is all right. I don't know what his name is yet, but I mean the man that has a house over there on Cockburn Island." "That's the man I mean," said John. "I think he's a smuggler. He may be, but the thing that puzzles me most is how he got your letter, if he was the one that dropped it over here on Western Duck Island." "Yes, that's hard to explain," assented Fred, "but I guess if we knew more about it we wouldn't find it quite so hard." "What do you mean? Do you think that man wrote the letter?" "No, I don't." "Well, then what do you mean?" "I guess I don't mean very much of anything. Fred, do you see how this boat is leaking?" Startled by the abrupt question, Fred glanced quickly at the spot in the bottom of the boat which the little Japanese had repaired. The water certainly was coming into the boat. "What do you think, Jack?" demanded Fred quickly. "Shall we try to go back?" "Is that the direction in which we usually go?" retorted John. "I would rather go back than go down." "But I would rather go ahead than either." "But the boat is certainly leaking. We have seen one storm on the lake and we don't want to be caught in another, especially with a leaking old tub like this."