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 yourselves a bunch of fools."

The next instant the "island prisoner" broke in thus:

"Hurry; they are after me. I think they are the ones who marooned me
here. Their boat looks like yours, I guess."

"See!" exclaimed Bud. "This makes things look bad. If those fellows are
robbers they're armed. We haven't a gun on board, and if we had we
wouldn't want to get in a fight over an affair that looks more like a
joke than a tragedy."

"And yet it may be a tragedy," said Hal.

At this moment Cub reappeared in the cabin and the situation was
explained to him.

"It begins to look like a tragedy," he admitted; "and yet if we treat
it as a tragedy and it proves to be a joke, we'll feel like a comedy
of errors."

"Now, you're getting highbrow, Cub," was Hal's mock objection.

"It's common sense, isn't it?" the youthful philosopher reasoned.

"Yes, but you forget one thing," the sly-eyed Hal rejoined: "With so much
Q R M, it's very hard to pick out common sen