And the puzzle was: What did they want of the _Follow Me_? Was the robbery merely for the sake of keeping the Speedwell boys out of the regatta—which was now but a week away? Or, was the crime committed for an entirely different reason?
Unless the scoundrels removed the boat from the river it would be rather difficult to hide her for long.
“But they can make us a whole lot of trouble—that’s a dead certainty,” muttered Dan, striving to clear his goggles of the wet and clinging snowflakes.
“D’ye hear anything, Dan?” yelled Billy at that moment.
“Crickey!” cried the younger boy. “Mebbe those fellers have run her under the ice.”
Dan caught most of what his brother said, but only shook his head. Billy, as he stood clinging to the leather hand-hold, was outlined by the snow, which made his figure bulk hugely in the uncertain light.
Standing there, Billy should be able by now to hear the motor’s exhaust—if ever! Unless, of course, the thieves had put canvas on the _Follow Me_, too.
Dan was trying to puzzle the thing out. If the robbery was solely for the purpose of putting him and his brother out of the regatta, why this long run up the river? Suppose the three men had merely motored over to one of the islands, or to the far shore of the river? There they could have hidden, or destroyed, her before this. A few strokes of an ax would have put an end to the usefulness of the motor and machinery on the stolen boat—and _that_ might have been done at Bromley’s dock.
No; it looked very much to Dan as though, had the intention merely been to keep her out of the race, the thieves never would have taken the _Follow Me_ out on the river on such a blustering night as this.
There was something else behind it. Because he believed that somebody had gotten hold of the plans he had drawn for the boat Dan, like Billy, had jumped to the conclusion that this incident was along the same line—that somebody who was afraid of their prowess wished to keep them out of the ice races.
His mind had suddenly shunted back to the repeated conversation between the strange man that afternoon on Bromley’s wharf, and Old John himself. The man had connected him and Billy with Island Number One. There was a mystery about that island—and the unfortunate lad who spent at least a portion of his time in that locality.