Crack!
Sharp and clear, the sound carried through the winter air.
“The rifle!” exclaimed Frank.
“Somebody down at the rocks!”
Frank swung the boat around toward the island. The wind, however, was against them and he could make little speed. He was obliged to tack about for some time, while the others speculated impatiently on the reason for Joe’s signal.
“Just when we need speed, the wind is against us!” groaned Biff.
“Perhaps the fellow will clear out before we can get back.”
“Not if I know it,” said Frank grimly. “We’ll come around on the other side of the island, and if he is making a getaway we can head him off.”
The boat seemed to labor slowly forward at a snail’s pace. Anxiously, the boys peered toward the island.
They could see no one.
“Perhaps the shot didn’t scare him away,” said Chet hopefully.
They circled around until at last they had a full view of the side of the island on which the stolen supplies had been hidden. The ice was bare. The hillside was bleak. There was no sign of any human being.
The boys brought their craft around until they were close to the rocks. They could see footprints in the snow.
“There was somebody here, all right,” said Frank, in excitement.
“I wonder if it was Hanleigh!”
“We’ll mighty soon find out.”
They brought the boat inshore and took in the sails. Then they scrambled out, made their way up over the rocks, and examined the footprints. They did not lead up toward the cabin, but instead they led along the shore around the bend.
“Follow him!” said Chet.
“Not yet,” Frank advised. “I think we’d better go up to the cabin first and find out what Joe knows about it. Perhaps he recognized the fellow and saw where he went.”
They ploughed through the snow up to the top of the slope. They found Joe awaiting them in the door of the cabin.
“Did you see him?” shouted Frank.
“Just caught a glimpse of him,” returned Joe, as the boys came running up to him. “I happened to look out the window and caught sight of somebody down among the rocks.”
“Who was he?”
“I don’t know. His back was turned to me, and he was crouching over. He was looking for that notebook, all right. I waited for a while, but I still couldn’t get a good look at him, so I went and got the rifle. By the time I got back to the window he was gone.”
“Before you fired the signal shot?”
“Yes. I could hardly believe my eyes. He just seemed to disappear into thin air. Well, I didn’t lose any time firing the shot, I can tell you. I could see your boat away up the bay.”
“The wind was against us,” said Frank. “We tried to get here quickly, but we didn’t have any luck.”
“He’s still on the island,” said Joe quickly. “I’m pretty sure of that.”
“Wonder how he got here,” remarked Chet. “There isn’t any other iceboat around, that we saw.”
“Probably walked over from the mainland,” Frank remarked. “Well, I guess we had better explore a bit and see if we can’t get a sight of him. You’re sure you didn’t recognize him, Joe?”
“No. I couldn’t say if the man was Hanleigh or not. I didn’t get a good look at him at all.”
“We’ll get a good look at him,” growled Biff. “And mighty soon, too.”
“I suggest that two of us take the north side of the island and the other two take the south,” said Joe.
Frank shook his head.
“Someone must stay here,” he decided. “We don’t want to run the risk of losing our supplies again. If this fellow managed to draw us far enough away from the cabin, there’s no telling what damage he might do. Joe, I think you had better stay here. If you see the man coming this way, fire another shot, and we’ll come a-running.”
“Good idea!” approved Chet. “I think we all ought to separate. Each go in a different direction. If we catch sight of him, whistle!”
Frank quickly directed the search. Joe was to stay at the cabin, Chet was to go to the northern side of the island, Biff was to explore the south. Frank himself was to cut through the trees in the center of the island, emerging on the other side.
They separated.
Frank ploughed through the snow, heading toward the heavy growth of trees at the top of Cabin Island. He soon reached a point from where he could get a good view of the entire island. He could see Biff and Chet industriously exploring the shore lines.
A little distance away, in the snow beneath the trees, he caught sight of a line of fresh footprints.
He picked up the trail at once, and followed the marks in the snow.
They led him in and out among the trees, then veered and seemed to be directed toward the rocks.
“What am I thinking of?” said Frank, to himself. “I’m not following the man’s trail at all. I’m going back on it.”
He turned, and retraced his steps, after a while reaching the place where he had first found the footprints. He went on from there, deeper into the thicket, proceeding cautiously.
At last he stood still for a moment, listening. Then he slipped in behind a tree.
He heard a crackle of branches. Someone was moving about among the trees, only a few yards ahead.
Frank peeped out.
He saw a dark figure emerge from behind a clump of evergreens. The man stepped out, looked cautiously about, then moved up the slope in the direction of the cabin.
“Hanleigh!” said Frank, under his breath.
Frank Hardy’s first impulse was to whistle, in order to bring the others to his assistance. Then he paused.
What
