Dropping broom and dustpan, Sally brought a chair and inspected the chain. Obviously it had been cut by sharp metal scissors.
"That prowler who came aboard last night must have done it!" she exclaimed angrily. "Oh, what a mean, low trick!"
As the full realization of what the loss would mean came to her, Sally sank down on the chair, a picture of dejection.
"I'm responsible for the trophy, Penny! I'll be expected to produce it before the final race. Oh, what can we do?"
"Why do you suppose the thief took the lantern and nothing else?"
"Someone may have done it for pure spite. But I'm more inclined to think the person came aboard to steal our money in the office safe. The lantern hung here in a conspicuous place and he may have taken it on impulse."
Intending to notify Captain Barker of the loss, the girls started up the companionway. Abruptly, Penny paused, her attention drawn to an object lying on one of the steps. It was a circular badge with a picture and a number on it. No name. Such identifications, she knew, were used by many industrial plants.
"Where did this come from?" she murmured, picking it up.
The face on the badge was unfamiliar to her. The man had dark, bushy hair, sunken eyes and prominent cheekbones.
Sally turned to examine the identification pin. "Why, this badge came from the Gandiss factory!" she exclaimed, and studied the picture intently.
"Did you ever see the man before?"
"I can't place him, Penny. Yet I know I have seen him somewhere."
"The man should be easy to trace from this picture and number. When I caught hold of his clothing last night, I must have pulled off the pin. That was how my finger was pricked."
As the girls examined the pin, they heard a commotion on deck and the sound of voices. Before they could go up the steps to investigate, Jack Gandiss came clattering down to the lounge.
"I came to take you back to the island, Penny," he informed. "Ready?"
Then his gaze fastened upon the beam where the brass lantern had hung.
"Say, what became of the trophy?" he demanded sharply. "You decided to take it down after all?"
"It's gone," Sally said, misery in her voice. "Stolen!"
The two girls waited for the explosion, but strangely, Jack said nothing for a moment.
"You warned me," Sally hastened on. "Oh, it's all my fault. It was conceited and selfish of me to display the trophy here. I deserve everything you're going to say."
Still Jack remained mute, staring at the beam.
"Go on--tell me what you're thinking," Sally challenged miserably.
"It's a tough break," Jack said without rancor.
"This will practically ruin the race," Sally accused herself. "I can't replace the trophy for there's no other like it. An ordinary cup never would seem the same."
"That's so," Jack gloomily agreed. "Well, if it's gone, it's gone, and there's nothing more to be done."
The boy's calm acceptance of the calamity he had predicted, astonished Penny and Sally. Was this the Jack they knew? With a perfect opportunity to say, "I told you so," he had withheld blame.
Sally sank down on the lower step. "How will I face the racing committee?" she murmured. "What will the other contestants say? They'll feel like running me out of town."
"Maybe it won't be necessary to tell," Jack said slowly. "One of us is almost certain to win the race next Friday."
"Yes, that's true, but--"
"If you win, the lantern would be yours for keeps. Should I win, no one would need to know that you hadn't turned it over to me. You could make some excuse at the time of the presentation."
Sally gazed at Jack with a new light in her eyes. "I'm truly sorry for all the hateful things I've said to you in the past," she declared earnestly. "You're a true blue friend."
"Maybe I'm sorry about some of the cracks I made too," he grinned, extending his hand. "Shake?"
Sally sprang up and grasped the hand firmly, but her eyes were misty. She hastened to correct any wrong impression Jack might have gained.
"I'm glad you made the offer you did," she said, "but I never would dream of keeping the truth from the committee. I'll notify them today."
