Waking from a sound Sleep.—The Missing Ones.—An earnest Debate.—Various Theories.—Fishing versus Sailing.—Afloat or Ashore.—Emotion of the venerable Corbet.—His solemn Declaration.—The Antelope or the Whaler.—Stick to the Antelope.—A new Arrival.—The Landlord’s View of the Case.—New Doubts and Perplexities.—“Afloat or Ashore” again.—The Landlord’s View of the Sailing Theory, and his Decision in Favor of the Fishing Hypothesis.—The Lost Ones must be camping out for the Night.

THE boys at the inn slept soundly, and did not wake until after their usual time. On going down to breakfast, they looked about for Bart and Pat. At first they thought that their two friends had already taken their breakfast, and gone out; but an incidental remark of the landlady made known to them the fact that they had not been back to the inn at all. This intelligence they received with serious faces, and looks of surprise and uneasiness.

“I wonder what can be the meaning of it,” said Bruce.

“It’s queer,” said Arthur.

“They were very mysterious about going, in the first place,” said Tom. “I don’t see what sense there was in making such a secret about it. They must have gone some distance.”

“Perhaps they didn’t think we’d be back so soon,” said Phil, “and have planned their own affair, whatever it is, to last as long as ours.”

“O, they must have known,” said Bruce, “that we’d be back to-day. Aspotogon is only a few miles. In fact we ought to have been back yesterday, in time for tea, by rights.”

“Where in the world could they have gone to?” said Arthur.

“O, fishing, of course,” said Tom.

“But they ought to have been back last night.”

“O, they’ve found some first-rate sport.”

“After all,” said Phil, “there wasn’t any actual reason for them to come back. None of us are in any hurry.”

“Yes; but they may have got into some scrape,” said Bruce. “Such a thing is not inconceivable. It strikes me that several members of this party have already got into scrapes now and then; and so I’m rather inclined to think that the turn has come round to Bart and Pat.”

“What I’m inclined to think,” said Arthur, “is, that they’ve gone off in a boat for a sail before breakfast, and have come to grief somehow.”

“Well, if they tried a sail-boat, they were pretty sure of that,” said Tom.

“Yes,” said Phil; “neither Bart nor Pat know anything more about sailing a boat than a cow does.”

“At any rate,” said Bruce, “they can’t have fallen into any very serious danger.”

“Why not?”

“There hasn’t been any wind worth speaking of.”

“Neither there has.”

“But there was some wind yesterday morning,” said Arthur. “It carried us to Aspotogon very well.”

“Pooh! Such a wind as that wouldn’t do anything. A child might have sailed a boat.”

“O, I don’t know. That wind might have caught them off some island, and capsized them.”

“I don’t believe that wind could have capsized even a paper boat,” said Phil; “but still I’m inclined to think, after all, that they’ve met with some sort of an accident in a boat.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Tom. “They couldn’t meet with any kind of accident. My opinion is, that they went off fishing, kept at it all day, got too far away to think of coming back last night, and so very naturally put up at some farm-house, where they have by this time eaten a good, rattling breakfast, and are on their way back, walking like the very mischief.”

“The most natural thing in the world too,” said Bruce. “I quite agree with Tom. It’s just what any other two of us fellows would have done. In the first place, they backed out of the Aspotogon expedition very quietly, so as not to make a fuss, then they went off’, and, as Tom says, got too far to come back; though whether they’ve had such a tremendous adventure as ours at Deep Cove with the shark is a matter that has yet to be decided.” This first allusion to the shark was received by all the party with a solemn smile.

“Well,” said Arthur, “I believe they’ve taken to a boat. Perhaps they’ve gone cruising about.”

“But they couldn’t have been capsized.”

“No.”

“Then how do you account for their absence?”

“Easily enough,” said Phil. “I believe they’ve gone visiting some of the islands, and somehow they’ve lost their sail, or their oars, or else they’ve been careless about fastening the boat, and she’s drifted away. And so I dare say that at this very moment they are on some desert island in this bay, within a mile or so of this town, looking out for help; but if they are, they must be pretty hungry by this time, for it isn’t every island that can furnish such a bill of fare as Ile Haute gave to Tom.”

“A perfectly natural explanation,” said Arthur.

“Those two fellows are both so abominably careless, that, if they did go ashore on any island, they’d be almost certain to leave the boat loose on the beach, to float away wherever it liked. I believe, as Phil says, that they’re on some island not far away.”

“I don’t,” said Bruce. “I believe that they went fishing.”

“Well, what are we to do about it? Oughtn’t we to hunt them up?” said Phil.

“I don’t see the use,” said Tom. “They’ll be along by dinner time.”

“Well, for my part,” said Arthur, “I can’t sit here and leave them to their fate. I believe they are in a fix, and consequently I intend to go off to hunt them up.”

“So will I,” said Phil.

“Well, of course, if you go, I’ll go too,” said Bruce.

“So will I,” said Tom; “though I don’t believe there’s the slightest necessity. Bart and Pat’ll turn up somewhere about noon, and find us gone. They’ll then go off in search of us. Well, it’ll amount to the same thing in the end, and so, perhaps, it’s the best way there can be of filling up the time.”

“I wonder if the Antelope’s got back,” said Bruce.

“I don’t know.”

“Suppose we go down and talk it over with Captain Corbet.”

“All right.”

With these words the boys rose from the breakfast table, and went down to the wharf. As they approached they saw the Antelope lying there at her former berth; for she had arrived about an hour before, and had come here.

“Wal, boys,” said he, as he saw them, “here we air once more, jined together as before; though whether you did well in a desertin of the ship in mid-ocean is a pint that I don’t intend to decide. You might as well have turned into your old quarters aboard, an slep calm an comfortable, instead of rowin six or eight mile by night. However, you don’t none o’ you look any the wuss for it, an so we’ll let bygones be bygones. Ony I’m pleased, likewise relieved, to see you here, instead of havin to larn that you’re among the missin, an probably roamin the seas in a open boat. An where, may I ask, air Bart and Pat?”

The answer to this question plunged the good Corbet from the comfort in which he had settled himself, down into the depths of anxiety and worriment.

“What! Not back yit?” he said. “You don’t say so. Is this railly so?”

“Yes.”

“What! all yesterday, an all last night?”

“Yes.”

“An no word of partin—and no directions as to where they went, an when they’d return?”

“Not a word.”

“An nobody seen them go?”

“No.”

“An nobody’s seen anythin of them at all?”

“No, nothing.”

“An you don’t even know whether they’re in danger or safety?”

“No.”

“Nor even whether they’re on land or............