plaster, or just boards?"

"They don't need to use plaster in this warm country."

"Well, then," Arnold continued, "We'll have to knock a hole in the
boards. What can we get for a battering ram?"

"Here's this bench. It's heavy and solid. Let's try it."

Not many blows of the bench swung in the strong arms were required to
batter loose enough of the partition to permit the boys to crawl through
into the next compartment. There they found a boy of about their own
age. He was dressed in a khaki uniform and medals and badges on his
jacket proclaimed him a Boy Scout. Prominently displayed were merit
badges proclaiming that he had attained proficiency and qualified for
the honors of Signaling, Seamanship, Camping and Stalking.

"Hello, here. What's this?" cried Harry, who was first through the
opening. "Why, this poor Bob White is tied hard and fast."

"Sure enough," was Arnold's comment. He followed fast on Harry's heels
and was at the prostrate boy in a moment. It was a short task to free
the lad of his uncomfortable fetters and help him to his feet. "Sure
enough," repeated Arnold. "Poor Bob White."

Their ready sympathy proved almost too much for the stranger.

"Won't you come over and visit us?" was their invitation.

"Thanks, I'll be glad to do so," was the reply.

"I was just a bit lonesome in there, to tell the truth. I'm better now."

"What shall we call you other than Bob White?" asked Harry.

"My name is Charley Burnett," answered their new friend. "I belong to
the Bob White patrol of Boy Scouts in St. Louis."

"And you came down the Mississippi in a launch called the 'Spray,' and
were set upon by a gang of thugs and pirates!" cried Arnold. "How am I
for a mind reader or clairvoyant?"

"You're just fine," declared Charley following the lads into the front
room. "I wish I were half as good. I certainly do."

"What would you do if you were?" inquired Harry.

"I'd go into a trance and see if I could locate my chum."

"You don't have to do that," declared Arnold. "Just cross my palm with a
piece of silver and I'll locate him for you," he added with a laugh.
Then pretending to take an imaginary piece of money from Charley, he
went on, "Your chum is on a boat called the 'Fortuna.' He is in the
hands of friends who wish him well. He has been seeking diligently for
you but cannot find you. Where have you been?"

"Well," laughed Charley, amused at the joke, "I've been sailing around
and around and around