Spanish Moss Bend, and stopped over night at Salem Landing, and then beat their way back up stream again, not once finding trace of the man.
More and more they grew worried as to his fate. They set forth in a dry gale, and passed within a thousand yards of him perhaps three or four times, not once catching a glimpse of the boat.
"We must find him. We must save him," Delia whispered, her voice tense with anxiety.
It seemed as though they must find such a big boat—but they saw other boats almost lost to view on the miles' wide surface; they saw other boats which were almost invisible against caving bank and among the tops of trees that had fallen into the river.
By chance they ran into the eddy at Poole, and found there a boat which they recognized. A number of people were sitting up the bank when they ran in, and at sight of the gasolene boat Urleigh and the girl masked their faces after a glance at each other.
Sure enough, the gasolene boat and the rag shack on a scow had figured in a river mystery. Something had happened on it. The sheriff, learning that Urleigh was a newspaperman, told him all that he knew, and told the guesses that he had made.
"You see, somebody got killed up on that gasolene boat, and we got a suspicion hit were a feller that rolled out on the bar ten miles below here—stripped
