peak, we might have an idea of what happened to Link."

Harris drew erect. "Speakin' of whence and whither, what's your
destination?"

"We're visiting a friend," Rick answered. "He lives on Martins Creek on
the south side of the river. Name is Ames."

Harris nodded. "I know who he is. Washington man. Has a summer place."

"You've met him?" Scotty inquired.

"So to speak. We've howdy'd, but we haven't shook."

Rick smothered a grin at the picturesque phrase.

"I'd better get back to crabs," Harris said. "I'm mighty grateful for
the hospitality. You get to town, look me up, and give me a chance to
return it." He shook hands with both boys, pulled his boat alongside,
and stepped aboard. In a short time, he was running the crab lines
again.

"Interesting," Rick said noncommittally.

Scotty chuckled. "Here we go again. Sherlock Brant's got his teeth into
a nice fat mystery. Good-by vacation."

Rick had to grin. "It's not that bad," he said defensively. "I just
thought we might sniff around a little."

"That's what I thought you thought. Come on, Hawkshaw. Let's get some
bacon and eggs on the fire and haul anchor."

"Okay." Rick checked the chart. "We're only about twenty minutes' run
from Steve's place. If we eat here, he won't think he has to feed us
breakfast."

"Considerate," Scotty agreed, grinning. "I can see you now. You walk up
the dock, shake hands, and say, 'Glad to see you, Steve. Don't bother
about breakfast. We've eaten. By the way, have you had any trouble with
flying stingarees?'"

Rick grinned back. "Not bad predicting. Actually, I was going to wait
for the right opportunity, then say, 'Wonderful hunting and fishing
country, Steve. By the way, when does the hunting season open for flying
stingarees?'"

Scotty laughed. "Okay. Only let's get going. I want to see how he
answers!"

CHAPTER IV

Steve's Place

A red buoy marked the entrance to Martins Creek. Rick, at the helm,
passed it close to starboard and headed into the center of the creek.
Past the wooded shores of the creek entrance, he could see fields,
obviously tended, and more woods.

"Steve's place should be the second on the left," Scotty said. "The
first house with a dock."

"Use the binoculars," Rick suggested. "We should be able to see it when
we round the next bend."

The houseboat passed the first house, a small, modern dwelling set close
to the water. A rowboat was hauled up on the shore. The creek rounded a
w