e was sure it would give him no anxiety.

Calvert took the lead, with Noxon next and Mike Murphy at the rear. The
last was highly pleased to see his young friend walk without a
perceptible limp.

The leader kept his bearings so well that when within an hour he reached
the shore of the Back River, it was at the spot he had in mind. There was
the runabout in which he and Warner Hagan had come from Wiscasset, and
the owner was calmly smoking his brier wood pipe, content to wait
indefinitely when he was well paid for so doing. He lay a few rods south
of the landing, and just below him was the _Water Witch_, with Alvin
Landon and Chester Haynes on board, wondering what in the world had
become of Mike Murphy. The youths had tried to open communication with
the master of the runabout, but he had been warned by his two passengers
to tell nothing to anyone, and he glumly refused to talk. Chester had set
out in quest of the missing Mike, going as far as the village. All he
could learn there was that his friend had left a good while before and no
one knew anything of him. The second mate went back to his Captain, and
the two were so impatient that they were half inclined to leave without
him, when lo! he appeared with Calvert and Noxon, coming from among the
trees as if he had been absent only a few minutes.

Then followed full explanations, and you can imagine the astonishment of
Alvin and Chester. They were sure of the identity of Noxon when he first
appeared, but were considerate and said never a word that could hurt his
feelings.

"You ran away with their launch," added Calvert. "They ran away with
yours, and you and they met as you were coming back. But for the fog you
would have seen each other, for you must have passed quite close. The
beauty of it is," said the officer, with a flash of his keen eyes, "that
while they have gone far away we know exactly where. My friend Hagan and
I, with Noxon as our guide, are going to scoop them in."

He thought it best not to affect too much mystery.

"They passed down Montsweag Bay clear to Knubble, through Goose Rock
Passage into the Sheepscot, and up that to the Beautiful Isle of
Somewhere. Most folks don't know the exact location of that sweet spot,
but we know--thanks to Noxon--the latitude and longitude of ours, which
the same is the port we are heading for."

The plan was simple. Noxon, who was familiar with the running of the
_Water Witch_, was to act as engineer and steers