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DAVE PORTER IN THE SOUTH SEAS

As Shadow finished, he drew from his pocket a doubled-up sheet of paper. Dave unfolded it, and saw it was a large sheet of rare American postage stamps.

"Did you find any more than this?"

The other youth shook his head.

"Did you hunt all around the boathouse?"

"Yes, I hunted high and low, in the building and out. I have spent all my spare time hunting; that is why I have had such poor lessons lately."

"Don't you remember going out to row during the night, Shadow?"

At this question, Shadow Hamilton started.

"What do you know about that?" he demanded.

"Not much—only I know you were out."

"Do you know where I went to?"

"I do not."

"Well, neither do I. I dreamed about rowing, but I can't, for the life of me, remember where I went. I must have gone a good way, for I blistered my hands with the oars."

"And yet you can't remember?"

"Oh, I know it sounds like a fairy tale, and I know nobody will believe it, yet it is true, Dave, I'll give you my word on it."

"I believe you, Shadow. Your being out is what has made you so tired lately. Now you have told me a secret, I am going to tell you one. Ike Rasmer saw you out on the river at night, passing