  “I don’t care much how far we are away if we can only get back,” said John thoughtfully. It was apparent, however, that extended conversation with the little Japanese would be impossible. He had made no inquiries as to why the boys were on the island and except for his first expression of surprise when he had heard their hail, he did not give any sign of special interest either in them or in their doings. “We stove a hole in the bottom of our skiff,” explained John. “Have you got a piece of tin and some tacks or something we can mend it with?” “You no feex it?” inquired the Japanese. “We haven’t anything to fix it with,” explained John. “I go see,” volunteered the little man. In accordance with his suggestion the boys speedily rowed ashore, the little Japanese accompanying them, and led the way to the cove where their skiff was resting on the beach. The Japanese made a careful investigation of the injury to the skiff and then said, after he had once more laughed loudly, “I feex her.” Quickly turning he ran back to the skiff and returned to the motor-boat. Only a few minutes elapsed before once more he came back and the very implements John had sought with which to repair the boat were now in his hands. Deftly he drove caulking into the seams and the cracks and then taking a piece of tin tacked it on the bottom of the skiff over the spot where the break had occurred. Then once more he used the caulking, driving it in all about the place where the skiff had been struck. “He no sink now,” said the Japanese, at last standing back and with pride viewing his workmanship. “He no sink now. She just as good as new.” Declining the offer of the boys to pay him for his labor the Japanese seated himself upon a rock and looked steadily at them. “What for have you come here?” he inquired. “We had bad luck last evening,” explained John. “We started from Cockburn Island in the Gadabout but we got out of our course. Then the first thing we knew our gasoline was gone and we had an accident in the shaft or the blades of the propeller. We thought that we might be able to get some help, so two of us left the boat and started ashore in our skiff. But we lost our way and that’s why we’re here and not where we want to be.” “Where other man?” inquired the Japanese. “What other man? Do you mean Mr. Ferdinand Button?” “Yah. Where Mr. Button now?” “That’s the very question that we would like to have you answer for us,” said Fred. “We don’t know whether the Gadabout is lost somewhere or the other fellows think we are lost and have gone back to Mackinac. That’s why we want to go back there ourselves and we’ll pay well if you’ll take us there on board your boat.” This time the Japanese did not laugh, but there was a peculiar expression that appeared for an instant in his eyes and that alarmed John, although Fred had not seen that which so greatly troubled his companion. “When are you going back?” demanded John. “Two hour.” “Have you got anything more to eat on board your boat?” Once more the strange laughter was heard but the Japanese did not reply to the question. “It will be two hours before they start, the Jap says,” said Fred, turning to John as he spoke. “Well, there isn’t anything to do except to wait for the time to come, is there?” “I don’t know what to do.” “I do,” observed John. “We’ll wait until that man comes back here and then we’ll tell him of our troubles and I’m sure he will take us on board. If he won’t take us to Mackinac at least he will take us back to his house.” “Maybe he will,” responded Fred somewhat dubiously. “Here he comes, anyway,” said John quickly, as glancing toward the woods he discovered the man approaching, who was the subject of their conversation. The boys waited until the man drew near and when he discovered their presence his remarks were not complimentary to either of his would-be passengers. “No, sir, I cannot take either one of you,” he said positively. “I have something else to do. In fact I have got to do it. I cannot go to Mackinac to-day under any circumstances. But what are you two boys doing here? You haven’t explained that yet.” “We don’t know,” said John, “just why we’re here. About all that we know is that we are here and we want to get away.” “How do you propose to leave?” “We want you to take us on your motor-boat.” “And I have already explained to you,” said the stranger, “why I cannot do that.” “We’ll pay you well for it,” suggested Fred. “It isn’t a question of pay,” said the man. “It’s simply a question of my not being able to do what you want.” “But how are we going to get away from this place? Is this the mainland?” “No, it’s an island. It is commonly called Western Duck Island.” “Which means that there are other duck islands farther to the east and that we’re not on the mainland shore at all?” said Fred. “Oh, no. You are several miles from shore. About all the island is good for is for hunting. A little later you might find a good many ducks here.” “But we don’t want to be here until ‘a little later,’” protested Fred. “We want to leave right away.” “Then I don’t see anything for you to do except to try to cross in your skiff.” “Your Jap says it’s about forty miles from here to Mackinac.” “If he says so then he probably is correct. I haven’t known Mike to be wrong many times.” “We cannot sail back in our skiff,” explained John. “Then I don’t see anything for you to do except to stay here and wait until you hail some boat that is passing.” “How long will that be?” inquired Fred. “Not knowing, I cannot say. But on a day like this, which promises to be very clear and pleasant, there ought to be a good many boats passing.” “I hope we’ll have better luck with them than we had with you,” said John. “So do I,” responded the man, “and with all my heart. All I can say is this, that if you don’t get any one to take you away before six o’clock this afternoon I will stop here on my way back and take you aboard.” “How are we going to get anything to eat?” asked John. “I’m sure I don’t know,” said the man. “I will tell Mike to give you some sandwiches.” “He has done that already,” said John. “Isn’t there some place where we can get something to eat?” “I don’t know of any.” “We thought perhaps that man you met out here might be living here and he or his wife would be willing to sell us some food.” “What man are you talking about?” demanded the stranger, quickly turning to the boys as he spoke. “Why, the one that met you out here between the shore and the woods yonder,” explained John. “Did you see any one?” “We certainly did,” said John. “We saw you meet a man out here and hand him something.” Fred was convinced that there was a momentary gleam of anger or alarm in the expression of the stranger’s face, but if so the feeling quickly departed. In a low voice the man said, “There are some great stories told about this island. My advice to you is not to stay any longer than you are compelled to.” “And our feeling is,” laughed Fred somewhat ruefully, “that any time we spend here is wasted.” “I think you’ll have to stay,” said the man as he went back and stepped on board his skiff. He then pushed out from the shore and speedily resumed his place on board the motor-boat. The anchor was hauled in and in a brief time the fleet little craft had resumed its voyage, headed now for the southern point of Western Duck Island. “That beats anything I have ever seen. I tell you, Fred, there’s something wrong here. Don’t you think we had better go back in the woods and see if we cannot find that man who came out of there a little while ago?” “We might as well do that as anything,” assented Fred, and quickly climbing the bank once more, they started across the field which intervened between them and the woods. As nearly as possible they were following the path taken by the others some time before. They had not gone far, however, before John suddenly stopped and picked up an envelope which he saw lying on the ground. “Of all things in the world!” he exclaimed. “What do you think of this?” Handing the envelope to Fred he called his attention to the name typewritten on the outside: “Mr. Button.” “That’s for you, Fred,” laughed John. “If it is,” said Fred, “then somebody had the pleasure of reading my letter before I did.” “The envelope has been opened,” suggested John; “suppose you read the letter. It may be for you. Very likely some of the people here heard you were coming and they are getting ready to welcome us. This is the royal proclamation for you. That man told us we’re on an island and if we are I guess Robinson Crusoe didn’t have very much on us.” Fred meanwhile was reading the letter and it was manifest from his expression that he was startled or puzzled by what he read. At last he handed the letter to John, simply saying, “Our patriotic and mysterious friend has made another mistake. This letter is not for me but for Mr. Ferdinand Button.” “What do you suppose it is doing here?” “I don’t know,” replied Fred, “unless the man dropped it.” “But he’s not Mr. Ferdinand Button,” protested John. “No more he isn’t,” acknowledged Fred, “but that isn’t the only strange thing about it. Read the letter, John, anyway.” Thus bidden, John read the following letter,— Dear Sir: I enclose you an envelope with my address. Send my your answer as soon as you possible this afternoon. I will get it in Macinac tonight or tomorrow morning and will immediately come to see you. To deliver you this gang which rob United States of thousands of dollars each year. I only want two things. 1st. My ticket to Montreal and back. 2nd. My passage to Europe by way of the Azores Isles. I do not want money. You will pay me when the gang is in your hands. You will get it this afternoonday. Do not fail to send me your answer quick. If you do so I will have the gang in your lands in 2 weeks. They are 2 men and 1 woman and they smuggle by ways you are not at all suspicious. Truly yours, “Mr. Button certainly has a good many friends and they are trying to keep him well informed. What do you make of this anyway, Fred?” “I don’t make much of anything,” said Fred thoughtfully. “What’s the use of going any farther? Let’s go back and take our skiff and see if we can’t get somewhere. The lake is smooth this morning and we may be able to get back as far as Drummond or Cockburn Island.” When the boys returned to the shore the motor-boat had disappeared from sight. This strange disappearance, however, was not so confusing to the boys as the discovery they speedily made concerning the skiff which they themselves had left on the shore of the cove. |
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