There was simply nothing remarkable about him, and neither Bob nor the Hunter gave him another thought, for a few minutes. Their attention was completely diverted from him when another bicycle pulled up beside them to reveal that their morning's search was over. Kenneth Malmstrom was with them.
"Hi, Bob. Just heading home for lunch? Mine was late, too."
"I'd sort of forgotten about eating," Bob responded. "Been riding all over the place to make myself at home again. I'd like to do the same on the water, maybe tomorrow. Too bad the others aren't with us- and the old boat."
"I'd go, but I'm not free this weekend-at least, I'm not exactly working, but I have to stay in hearing of a phone tomorrow. I suppose you'll want to go anyway, before you start work too. Any idea when that'll be?"
"Well, Doc checked me over this morning. Unless he finds something out of line, I suppose Monday. I wouldn't know where or what. If you're not free tomorrow or Sunday, I might as well row a bit by myself, if I can find a boat."
"Lots of those around," Malmstrom assured him. "I'd let you have mine, but I sold it to a kid over a year ago-didn't have enough time for it to make it worth the upkeep work. Speaking of boats and fun-you, Andre. Have you been around the airplane again?"
"When?" The boy who had been standing silently, beside them seemed neither surprised nor indignant at the question.
"Any time since it got here yesterday, but especially this morning. You remember what you got told after you tied the wheel struts to the float under water, where no one could see the rope?"
"I remember." Bob, with the memory of his father's injury the night before rising in his mind, looked at the child with interest; but neither he nor the Hunter could read anything from Andre's expression. There was certainly no fear, and no really obvious amusement. Malmstrom was not trying to analyze; he already had his suspicions and intended to air them.
"Well, someone's done it again. I hope no one's seen you around with a length of rope, or you're in trouble."
"They haven't. I'm not." The young face remained expressionless. Malmstrom eyed the boy sternly for half a minute, but got nothing for his trouble and finally returned to the earlier subject.
"I sometimes miss the old boat, but there are plenty around-you can always borrow one."
"So I gather," replied Bob. "The Doc said his girl had one she might be willing to lend; I'll go back after I eat and-what's so funny?" Malmstrom was grinning broadly.
"Doc's a swell guy," he chuckled, "but he's too fond of Jenny. She can't do anything wrong-ask him. Wait till you see the boat. She made it herself."
"So? Don't most people? What's wrong with it?"
"She used some kind of kit she sent away for. It's mostly canvas. I wouldn't get into it for money."
"Did you tell her that? Did she ask you to ride in it?"
"No, she sure didn't. I've been kidding her ever since she started making it."
"I see. Well, I'll be seeing Doc again anyway, but thanks for the warning. I'll use my judgment about Jenny's boat. See you later; I'm hungry."
"And I'm late. So long." The tall youth pedaled rap-idly away in the direction from which the others had come, and all three looked after him thoughtfully.
"He's pretty dumb," the child suddenly volunteered!
"Why?" asked Bob. "He found out about your tying up the airplane, the other time."
"No, he didn't. He couldn't find his own nose if it was after dark. Someone told him I did that, and now he blames everything on me."
"And he's never right?"
"Sometimes. A busted clock is right twice a day." There was still no expression behind the words or on the face.
"Is he right about Jenny Seever's boat?"
"You said you'd see for yourself." There might have been reproach in the child's tones, this time. Bob was somewhat amused, and the Hunter was developing a real interest in Andre. He, too, had thought about the incident of the footlocker.
Bob had resumed wheeling the bicycle toward the doctor's. Andre accompanied them as far as the road which led down to the dock. He turned down this way while the others went on, eventually reaching the Kinnaird home.
Bob's mother had expected them much earlier and had obviously been worried; her son made excuses and apologies without mentioning the fatigue attack. As he ate, he gave a somewhat edited report of his talk with Seever, mentioned that he and the Hunter had bicycled around much of the island, and eventually spoke of the possibility of using Jenny's canoe.
"Do you know anything about that, Mom?" he asked. "We met Shorty Malmstrom just before we got here, and when I said something about Jenny's boat he nearly split. He said he'd never want to ride in it. She didn't strike me as exactly incompetent; is she?"
"I don't believe so," his mother answered. "I know the Seevers very well, of course; Ben and Ev are probably our best friends. Jenny took care of Daphne quite often when she was very small. I never heard anything about her boat, or about any fuss between her and Shorty. Of course, there could be some story current among the teen-age set that I might never have heard; you should check with someone younger. Even Daphne might know more than I."
No opportunity of consulting his sister arose, how-ever; she seemed to have gone with friends after school, and her mother did not expect her until suppertime.
Bob rested until nearly four, and then headed back to the Seevers'. He used the bicycle, but not without some hesitation and discussion with the Hunter. It might delay the onset of the next fatigue attack; on the other hand, it would be a nuisance if the nausea struck again. The Hunter could not even guess which was more likely to happen, since he had not yet come up with a specific cause for either, so he voted for speed.
There were still patients in the waiting room when they arrived, and Jenny was still at her desk. When she saw Bob, however, she slipped the papers in front of her into a folder, rose, and came toward him.
"Let's go," she said, "I'll show you the boat, if you still want it."
"What about the other people here?" asked Bob in some surprise.
"They don't need me. It's Dad they're after. Did you think he'd gotten so formal that everyone has to be escorted from waiting room to office?"
"It looked like it this morning."
"Not the story. He expects me to be useful and tactful-"
"And decorative?" Her eyes, little more than two inches below his, swept over his face for a moment, but she showed no other sign of being impressed by the remark.
"That wasn't mentioned, thanks. As long as the records are straight and he can find anything he wants, I'm earning my dividend."
They were outside now, and Bob gestured toward the bicycle rack. "Walk or wheel?"
"Walk. Most of the way is on sand." She led the way, not toward the road leading down to the dock, but almost directly toward the water, threading among houses and gardens along the narrow paths which separated them. The girl seemed to feel no need of conversation, and the Hunter was perfectly willing to think rather than listen. Bob, however, felt that time was not a commodity he could afford to waste.