“Why, don’t seem as if you was eating much,” he added, as Mr. Carleton rose from the table. Mr. Carleton had swallowed his last cup of tea in two gulps. “First rate, first rate,” he said. “Had a good supper. I’ll take a little stroll with a cigar, before turning in.” Mr. Carleton walked leisurely out of the yard; but, when he had passed down the road a few steps, he quickened his pace and reached the shore almost running. Taking the first boat that came to hand, at random, he pushed off and rowed out to the _Viking_ with a few quick, powerful strokes. Then, pausing for a moment alongside, he listened for the sounds of any one approaching. It was still. Mr. Carleton sprang aboard. He rushed to the companionway. But the hatch was drawn, the cabin doors shut, and the lock set. Mr. Carleton uttered an exclamation of anger. Stooping over, he felt along under the seats on either side of the cockpit. His search was rewarded, for his hand rested presently on the blade of a small hatchet, which was used by the yachtsmen for all sorts of work, from chopping bait to splitting kindling. Mr. Carleton sprang to his feet, gave one quick glance about, then rushed to the companionway and smashed the lock with two smart blows. The next moment, he shoved back the hatch, opened the doors, and vanished below. But, though unseen, Mr. Carleton had not been unheard. Only a few moments before this, Tom and Bob and Henry Burns and Harvey had gone down to the shore, after bidding the crew good night. “How did you happen to bring the canoe, Jack?” inquired Allan Harding. “I thought you wasn’t going to use that any more.” “Well, I did say so last year,” replied Harvey. “I thought I had come too near drowning ever to enjoy it again. But Tom and Bob were coming down in theirs, so Henry and I got mine down from the Warren’s shed.” “We’ll race you up,” said Tom. “All right,” said Harvey. “I think you can beat us, though.” For a short distance, however, Henry Burns and Harvey held their own. Then the skill of the other two, and their long practice of paddling together, began to tell, and their canoe forged ahead. “It’s no use, Henry,” said Harvey, good-naturedly. “I can’t handle a paddle with Tom Harris. They have kept a straight line, but I can’t keep this craft up to her course.” They slowed down, accordingly, and the other canoe left them considerably astern. Then Tom, turning and discovering that the others had fallen back, spoke to Bob, and they waited for the second canoe to come up. It was at this very moment that Mr. Carleton, hatchet in hand, had smashed the lock. “Hark! what was that?” exclaimed Bob White. “Did you hear it? That was out aboard the _Viking_.” “It sounded like it, sure enough,” said Tom. “Say, fellows,” he cried as the other canoe came near, “did you leave anybody aboard the yacht? We just heard somebody out there.” “No, we didn’t,” replied Harvey. “Come on, let’s get up to her quick.”