The Radio Boys in the Thousand Islands | Page 9

tried to head us off,"
remarked Hal as he left the supper table and prepared to relieve Cub at
the wireless. "You haven't heard anything from him, have you?"
"No, not a thing all day," Cub replied. "I guess we've tired him out. Did
you get anything from him, Bud?"

"Not a shiver of the wires," answered the latter.
"Maybe he's given us up as hopeless easy marks," Cub suggested.
"Why, do you think his story is true and 'Bobby Crusoe' is a fake?"
asked Hal.
"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised to find almost anything--or
nothing--as we get near to the end of our hunt."
"But he must be on the island," Bud reasoned. "And he must have a
wireless set, or he couldn't have sent the messages we got. That much is
certain."
"Not all of it," Hal objected.
"Why?" Bud demanded.
"Maybe he isn't on an island."
"You mean, maybe the whole thing's a fake--eh?"
"Maybe."
"If the whole thing's a fake, then that other fellow who tried to head us
off must 'ave been a party to the game," Cub interposed.
"There wouldn't be much sense in that," said Bud.
"I agree with you," Cub continued. "The scrap between those two hams
was genuine enough."
"But they were holding something back from us," Hal declared.
"Both of them?" asked Bud.
"I shouldn't be surprised."
"Nor I, either," said Cub.

"Then they've put one over on us," was Bud's inference. "Are you sorry
we came?"
"I? No, sir!" Cub emphasized. "It's a dandy adventure, whatever the
result. I didn't swallow that Crusoe story whole at any time."
"Neither did I," said Hal.
"I thought there were some funny things about it," Bud announced
reflectively; "but I didn't know how to put them together or take 'em
apart."
"That was my fix," said Cub; "and it's my fix yet."
"I guess we all agree that the whole affair is very strange," Hal
concluded. "We really don't believe we've been told the truth, and yet
we get in worse trouble when we try to make something else out of it."
"I wonder what your father thinks about it, Cub," said Bud.
"Oh, he accepts it at its face value for the sake of the adventure," the
tall youth replied. "But he's wise enough to know there may be a lot of
hocus-pocus in the business."
For nearly two hours the motor boat wound its way at a fairly good clip
among the picturesque islands of the upper St. Lawrence, the radio
compass fixing the course as certainly as the hunter's pursuit is directed
by the nose of his hound. They had no way of telling, at any time, how
far ahead was the object of their search, but they had the satisfaction of
knowing that they were constantly approaching it. At last an
unexpected climax threw their hitherto clear prospect into confusion.
This climax grew out of a series of confounding messages from the
"lost islander".
"I see you coming," was the first of these messages.
"Where is he?" asked Cub and Bud in chorus. Hal was at the table and
the other two boys were listening-in.

"I don't know," replied the operator. "One of you boys go on deck and
see what you can see."
Cub dashed up the companionway two steps at a time. In a few
moments he returned with the announcement:
"There's an open stretch of four hundred yards ahead of us. He's
probably on the island at the other end. I'm going back on deck and
watch for developments."
There was a speaking tube communicating between the pilot house and
the cabin and through this Cub kept his boy friends acquainted with the
progress of the search. They reached the island in question, but not a
sign of human life was discoverable on it. The motor boat passed
around it, and meanwhile the radio-compass found the strength of its
receiving directly down stream. Cub communicated this condition to
the cabin, and Hal dot-and-dashed the following to "VAX":
"Where are you? We can't see you."
"I saw you," was the reply. "I climbed a tree and saw you headed right
for this group of islands."
"No, no," objected Hal. "It must be another yacht."
"Aren't you a white cruiser with awning mid and aft, and pilot house on
bridge deck?" asked "VAX".
"Yes," answered Hal.
"There's somebody calling us," remarked Bud at this point.
"Yes, I get 'im," returned Hal. "Why, it's the mysterious guy who tried
to head us off night before last and yesterday."
Both boys read the "mysterious guy's" first send with eager impatience.
It was as follows:
"He's making sport of you. Mark my word, when you reach the island,

he'll be gone."
"Keep out, you pirate," ordered Hal.
"All right, but you'll call