It was the figure of a man. He stopped a moment.
Tom from the Fortuna gave a wild cry and waved his arms.
A shot rang out and the strange boy on the beach fell forward.
CHAPTER VI
A MAROONED BOY SCOUT
Rushing ashore in the small boat, the boys paused scarcely long enough
to draw their craft to a safe position on the beach before they raced to
the spot where the stranger had fallen.
They were abreast as they approached his prostrate form lying face down
in the sand. With one accord they stooped to examine him. Jack rolled
the body over tenderly searching for the mark of the villain's bullet
but found none.
Slowly the prostrate boy opened his eyes staring about in amazement.
Jack supported his head while the two chums stood by anxious to be of
assistance in rendering aid to the fallen lad.
"Where are you hurt?" questioned Jack tenderly.
"Nowhere!" replied the lad. "I heard a shot just as I tripped over
something in the sand and then the next thing I knew you had me. What
happened, anyway? Who shot and at what?"
"I don't know the fellow's name, but he was at one time a passenger on
our boat, I believe. He is a villain if ever there was one!" replied
Jack with some warmth.
"Maybe it's the same fellow I know!" declared the stranger. "But may I
ask to whom I am indebted for the pleasure of this call?"
Jack introduced himself, and then his two chums. In turn the stranger
gave his name as Frank Evans of the Bob White patrol of St.
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