it’s quite a story,” the Cub leader replied, carefully assisting Mrs. Dustin from the boat. “Before I go into it, suppose we get this lady and her children into the house. They’ve had a harrowing time of it on the island.”
Mrs. Dustin brushed aside a wisp of damp hair which had blown across her drawn, care-lined face. She wore a man’s coat over her housedress, but the latter was soaked from the knees down and clung to her as she walked.
“My husband went to Webster City late this afternoon and couldn’t get back,” she explained. “Then the river came up frightfully fast. It flooded our little place, ruining everything. The children and I had to take refuge on the highest point of the island. I don’t know what we’d have done, if help hadn’t come when it did.”
Mrs. Holloway slipped an arm about the woman’s shaking shoulders as she led her and the two small children toward the house.
“Don’t worry about anything now,” she comforted. “You’ll spend the night here and we’ll get word to your husband. We have plenty of room.”
Having delivered the passengers safely, the Coast Guard launch now prepared to pull away, but not before Sam Hatfield and Mr. Holloway both had thanked the crew for the timely rescue.
“It’s just part of our job,” the boatswain replied carelessly. “Glad to have been of service.”
After the launch had disappeared in the darkness, Brad and the other Cubs gathered about Mr. Hatfield, urging him to relate what had occurred on Rabb Island.
“What became of Mr. Holloway’s boat?” Dan asked. “And why was it necessary to send the distress message?”
“Well—” the Cub leader hesitated, glancing briefly at Chips. “Oh, we had a little bad luck. The boat broke away after we left it on shore.”
“It wasn’t bad luck exactly,” Chips corrected quietly. “I was careless. Mr. Hatfield told me to fasten the boat, and I did tie it to a dock post—only not securely enough.”
“It wasn’t really your fault, Chips,” the Cub leader said generously.
“Yes, it was, sir. I should have been more careful.”
“Accidents can happen to anyone, Chips.”
“What became of the boat?” Dan asked although he knew the question was a rather useless one.
“Well, it drifted off somewhere downstream,” the Cub leader replied. “If we’re lucky, it may lodge some place fairly close. Then again, this swift current is likely to carry it miles. If any damage is done I’ll either buy a new boat or see that it is properly repaired.”
“Now don’t give that a thought,” the Den Dad cut in. “We’ll find the boat tomorrow.” He turned to Chips, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t look so glum, lad. No one blames you for the accident.”
“It’s not just the boat I’m thinking about,” the boy answered. “The Indian headdress was lying on the seat when it floated away.”
“Then there goes the Den’s chance to win first prize at the Pack exhibition!” exclaimed Red. “Gosh! After all the work we did on that headdress!”
“How did you happen to lose it?” Fred asked in a discouraged voice.
Chips explained that he had left the feather piece lying on the boat seat when he and Mr. Hatfield had gone to the rescue of Mrs. Dustin and her two children. Upon their return, both the boat and the headdress had floated away.
“We’ll never enter it in the competition now,” he ended in disgust. “The boat may be found, but the headdress is sure to be a mess after lying out all night in the weather.”
Loss of the handicraft article upon which the Den had pinned hope of victory in the Pack exhibition, thoroughly discouraged the Cubs. However, because Chips already blamed himself for the loss, they said little about it.
“There’s an outside chance the boat may have lodged at the Fulton bridge, a quarter of a mile down river,” Mr. Hatfield remarked thoughtfully. “The current would carry it in that direction. I think I’ll drive that way on my way home.”
Brad and Dan immediately sought permission to accompany the Cub leader.
“I’ll be glad to have you,” Mr. Hatfield said. “Better telephone your parents and tell them not to bother to pick you up. I’ll drive you home after we’ve looked for the boat.”
Eager to be off, Mr. Hatfield borrowed a lantern from Midge’s father. With Brad and Dan, he then selected the main highway which would take the car across the Fulton bridge.
“It’s too late for us to make an extensive search for the boat tonight,” he remarked as they drove along. “The chances are it will drift miles from Rabb Island. All the same, we’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
Under the pale light of the moon, the boys caught occasional glimpses of the racing river. At the bridge where rolling waves dashed against the stone supports, Mr. Hatfield halted the car for a better view.
Gazing down over the cement railing, Dan and Brad saw boxes, boards, logs and miscellaneous debris swept past. Other refuse of the river had lodged in quieter waters. Foam rose in a soapy sea around the bridge pillars where the waves slapped high.
But there was no sign of the missing boat.
“Guess it was too much to expect,” Mr. Hatfield said, turning away from the railing. “Well, nothing to do but organize a search tomorrow. I’m afraid though, that the boat will be badly battered by the time we recover it.”
Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs returned to the parked automobile and drove on. For a short distance the highway curled close to the rivers edge. At one point, shallow water flooded the pavement.
The car churned through it without the engine damping out. But a short distance ahead they came to another area of flooded pavement, more extensive and apparently much deeper.
“Wonder if we can make it?” Mr. Hatfield remarked.
Doubtful that the car could negotiate the water, he parked and walked down the road to investigate. Brad and Dan also alighted, following the Cub leader.
“We probably can get through all right,” Mr. Hatfield said after making an inspection. “But there’s likely to be more water ahead. Perhaps we’d better go back and take another road.”
While Brad and the Cub leader discussed what to do, Dan, who had been gazing out across the dark ribbon of river, suddenly noticed a shadowy object lodged some ten yards from shore.
“Mr. Hatfield!” he exclaimed. “Look over there! Could that be our missing boat?”
The Cub leader flashed his light on the area in the river which Dan indicated. A rowboat, plainly the one which had floated away from Rabb Island, had snagged against a bush in the backwash of the flooded river.
“Sure enough, it’s Mr. Holloway’s boat!” the Cub leader exclaimed. “You have keen eyesight, Dan!”
“The boat doesn’t look as if
