he captain waving frantically.
"Something's up, all right," remarked Tubby, above the roar of the
motor-boat's engine.
The others said nothing, but kept their gaze riveted on the captain's
figure. With the skill of a veteran boatman, Rob brought the Flying
Fish round in a graceful curve and ran her cleanly up to the wharf
without the slightest jolt or jar.
"Ahoy, lads, I'm glad yer've come!" exclaimed the captain, as he caught
the painter line thrown out to him by Merritt, and skillfully made the
boat fast.
"Why, what has happened?" demanded Rob, as he sprang on to the wharf,
followed by the others.
"Happened?" repeated the captain. "Well, in a manner of speakin',
about twenty things has happened at once. Lads, my spirits and
emotions are in a fair Chinese tornado--every which way at once. In
the first place, I'm seventy-five dollars poorer than I was last night;
in the second, poor old Skipper's been given some kind av poison that's
made him so sick I doubt he'll get over it."
"You've been robbed?" gasped Merritt.
"That's it, my lad. That's the word. My poor old safe's been scuttled
and her hold overhauled. But I don't mind that so much--it's poor old
Skipper I'm worried about. But come on up ter the house, lads, and see
fer yerselves."
Followed by the sympathetic four, the old man hobbled up from his
little wharf to a small eminence on which stood his neatly whitewashed
hut. He opened the door and invited them in. A first glance
discovered nothing much the matter, but a second look showed the boys
poor old Skipper lying on the floor in front of the open fireplace
which was filled with fresh green boughs--and evidently a very sick dog
indeed. He gave the boys a pathetic glance of recognition as they came
in, and with a feeble wag or two of his tail tried to show them he was
glad to see them; but this done, he seemed to be completely exhausted,
and once more laid his head between his forepaws and seemed to doze.
"Poor old dog," said the captain, shaking his head. "I doubt if he'll
ever get about again."
The safe now engaged the boys' attention. It is true that it was a
rickety old contrivance which might well have been forced open with an
ordinary poker, but to the captain, up to this day, it had been a
repository as safe and secure as a big Wall Street trust company's
vaults.
"Look at that, boys!" cried the captain, with tragic emphasis, pointing
to the door, which had been forced
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