“I don’t like it!” exclaimed Mr. Racer, tossing aside the paper he had been trying to read, and restlessly pacing the floor. “I wish they hadn’t gone. I wish they were back.”
“Don’t you think they can look after themselves?” asked the mother. Usually she was the more nervous, but this time it was her husband.
“Oh, I suppose they could, ordinarily,” he answered. “But this is different.”
“How, Dick?” and there was an anxious note in Mrs. Racer’s voice. She had just come in from a tennis tournament to find that her husband had returned from New York earlier than usual. Now she began to realize the cause. It was on account of the boys.
“Well, there’s a storm coming up, for one thing, and then there’s that man. I wish Andy and Frank hadn’t started after him.”
“It was to help Paul, dear.”
“I know. They meant all right, but they’re too daring. However, it can’t be helped. Where’s Paul?”
“He felt so well that he went for a little walk. He said he’d go down toward the pier and see if he could see or hear anything of the boys.
“Well, I’m glad he’s getting better.” Mr. Racer once more tried to read the paper, but gave it up.
“You’re nervous,” said his wife, as he tossed it aside.
“Yes, I am. Nothing is worse than sitting still, and waiting—waiting for something to happen.
“Oh, Dick! I’m sure you don’t want anything to happen!”
“Of course not. But I don’t like this weather.”
Paul came in at that moment. The glow of health was beginning to reappear in his pale cheeks.
“Well?” asked Mr. Racer quickly.
“They’re not in sight,” answered the lad who did not know who he was. “And Captain Trent says a bad storm is brewing.”
“That settles it!” exclaimed Mr. Racer. He started up and took down an old overcoat and hat.
“Where are you going?” asked his wife in alarm.
“I’m going for those boys. I can’t stand it any longer.”
“But how can you get to Cliff Island if a storm is coming up? You have no boat, and to row—”
“I don’t intend to row. Mr. Lacey, a friend of mine, put in here with his big motor boat a little while ago. I saw him as I got off the New York steamer, and he said he might stay here a couple of days. His craft is at the pier float. I know he’ll take me to Cliff Island, blow or no blow, and his Norma is big enough to weather quite a sea.”
“Oh, Dick, I’m afraid to have you go!”
“Oh, there’s no danger, but there might be to our boys, and I’m going to the rescue. Don’t worry. I may be able to get out to the island and back before dark. They’re probably scouting around, looking for that man, and he isn’t there at all. They think they’re having a good time, but they don’t realize what the weather is going to be.”
Mr. Racer went on with his preparations for being out in the storm. Mrs. Racer, after the first alarm, agreed with him that it was best to go after the boys.
“Do you think that I—that is—Oh, mayn’t I go?” burst out Paul Gale. “I’d like to help. Andy and Frank have done so much for me. Can’t I go?”
“I’m afraid you’re not strong enough,” objected Mr. Racer.
“Oh, but I am!” insisted the lad. “I believe it will do me good. But can’t you ask Dr. Martin?”
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CHAPTER XXII THE STORM
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CHAPTER XXIV THE ESCAPE
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