"Then, you couldn't tell whether or not they were the same men you met before in New York, and who got you on board their yacht?" asked Henry Darby, for the wealthy youth had told of his experience on the Princess.
"No—I don't believe they were the same fellows," replied Dick, slowly. "They were ordinary highwaymen," but, though he said nothing about it, he was puzzled over a remark one of the men had made while holding him. It was when the footpad said: "We've got him! Where's the rig?"
"Rig—that is, horse and carriage," murmured Dick to himself. "I wonder why highwaymen wanted a rig? Unless," he added slowly, "they had an idea of carrying me off. But that's nonsense. Maybe I misunderstood them." But the more he thought about it and puzzled over it, the more it worried him, until he put the matter out of his mind and devoted his time to getting ready for the yachting trip.
No further trace was found of the footpads next day, and, though the Hamilton Corners police made inquiries in nearby towns, no suspicious characters were reported as being about.
Mr. Hamilton was worried, and considered a scheme of having a private detective guard his son, for he knew that many unscrupulous scoundrels had designs on wealthy lads. But Dick called the plan off.
"I'll soon be at sea, dad," he said, "and I guess
