He headed straight for either
Far or Fern Island--the twin spots of land far away.
Out in the broadest part of the water they suddenly came upon a
rowboat without a light.
"Look out there!" shouted Ben. "Where's your light?"
There was no answer. Ben turned as far out of his course as it was
possible to do at the rate his own boat was running.
"There is no one in that boat," declared Hazel. "See, it is just
drifting."
"Might be," said Ben, throttling down his gasoline so that he might
turn nearer the other craft for inspection.
"There does not seem to, be any one in it," declared Bess, who also
looked over the edge of the smaller boat.
Ben did not reply. He had recognized the other craft as that
belonging to Jim Peters, and guessed that the man might be up to
some trick. When he had almost stopped his motor he jumped up and
peered into the rowboat.
"'Low there!" he called "Sleepin--?"
There was no answer.
"Hum," he sniffed, "thought so. It's Jim. Say there Jim, you're
not over friendly."
Thus taunted the man in the other boat moved to the low seat. He
growled rather than spoke, but Ben was not the sort to take offence
at a fellow like Jim.
"Joy riding?" persisted Ben.
"Say, you smart 'un," spoke Peters, "when you want to be funny
better try it on some 'un else. Leave me alone," and he picked up
the oars and sculled off.
"What do you suppose he was hiding for?" asked Belle.
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