“It looks like a hoax of some sort,” admitted Rob, sorely puzzled; “but I can’t for the life of me see the object of it.  Come into the house a minute, captain, and we’ll try to figure it out.”

Seated beneath the lamp in the library of his home, Rob scrutinized the letter closely, but could find absolutely no indication about it to betray who could have typewritten it.

“How did you come to receive it?” he asked suddenly.

“Why, old Hank Handcraft come out in that crazy launch uv his and guv it ter me,” rejoined the captain.  “I ought ter hev told yer that in the first place, but I was all took aback and canvas a-shiver when yer tole me yer never wrote it.”

“Hank Handcraft,” repeated Rob.  “He’s that queer old fellow that lives in a hut away down the beach?”

“Yes, and a bad character, too,” replied the captain.  “He used ter be a smuggler, and done a term in jail fer it.”

“Well, it’s pretty certain that he didn’t write this,” said Rob.  “He couldn’t get hold of a typewriter, even if he could use one.  What did he tell you about it?  Did he say who gave it to, him?”

“No, he just handed it ter me, and says:  ’A young party in Hampton says ter give yer this and hurry.’  I was just gettin’ my supper when I heard his hail of ‘Island, ahoy!’ I hurried out, and there he was in that old teakettle uv his, at the end uv my wharf.”

“And he left before you read the note?”

“I should say.  He hurried right off ag’in.”

“Well, I don’t see any way to get at the bottom of this mystery but to go and see old Hank himself,” mused Rob, after a period of thought.  “What do you think, captain?”

“That’s the tack ter go about on, youngster,” agreed the man of Topsail Island; “but if yer are goin’ down ter his place at this hour uv night, we’d better take somebody else along.  He’s a bad character, and I’m only a feeble old man and yer are a lad.”

“I’ll go round by Merritt Crawford’s house,” proposed Rob; “then we’ll pick up Tubby Hopkins.  I guess we can handle any trouble that Hank wants to make, with that force on hand.”

“I guess so,” agreed the old man.  “I must say I’d like ter get ter the bottom uv this here mystery.  ‘All fair and above board’ is my motto.  I don’t like these secret craft.”

The two young scouts were both at home, and after brief explanations the four started off at a lively pace for Hank Handcraft’s hut, which was situated about two miles along the beach.  As they hastened along, Rob explained to the others in more detail the nature of their mission, but though they were as much mystified by the sudden summons of Captain Hudgins as Rob and the captain himself, they could hit upon no plausible explanation for it.