For there was no craft tied
to the string-piece, where he had fastened his motor-boat. He
looked again, rubbed his eyes to make sure and then cried out:
"The ARROW is gone!"
There was no doubt of it. The craft was not at the dock.
Breaking into a run, Tom hastened to the boathouse. The ARROW was
not in there, and a look across the lake showed only a few
rowboats in sight.
"That's mighty funny," mused the youth. "I wonder--"
He paused suddenly in his thoughts.
"Maybe Garret took it out to try and see that it worked all
right," he said hopefully. "He knows how to run a boat. Maybe he
wanted to see how the rudder behaved and is out in it now. He got
through dinner before I did. But I should have thought he'd have
said something to me if he was going out in it."
This was the one weak point in Tom's theory, and he felt it at
once.
"I'll see if Garret is in his shop," he went on as he turned back
toward the house.
The first person he met as he headed for the group of small
structures where Mr. Swift's inventive work was carried on was
Garret Jackson, the engineer.
"I--I thought you were out in my boat!" stammered Tom.
"Your boat! Why would I be out in your boat?" and Mr. Jackson
removed his pipe from his mouth and stared at the young inventor.
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