When morning came he was determined to go ashore, and see if he could not find some angle worms; for without bait it was folly to think of catching fish on hooks; and all sorts of other contraptions were barred from the contest.
Giraffe, however, was not asleep, and he saw what his rival was up to; but although Bumpus was not aware of the fact, the tall scout had had his line over the side for half an hour now, also baited, and with the hope of a bite.
From now on the race promised to become pretty warm between them, once they got fully started in the game.
They had talked over about every subject that could be imagined, including the matter of the mysterious powerboat that had passed them that afternoon, apparently heading in another direction; though Thad knew that long afterwards those in the black craft had altered their course, and were really following them.
It was getting along near time when they ought to be thinking about retiring so as to get some rest, when another subject came up suddenly.
Giraffe, who had been stretching that long neck of his for some little time, observed that he was trying to make out what a certain queer light might stand for.
"It's away up the shore yonder, fellows, and seems to be a lantern, as near as I can make out," he went on to say; "every now and then it bobs up, and down; and if you asked me I'd say it was, meant for some sort of signal!"
"A signal!" echoed Bumpus, in almost an awed tone; "that sounds like there might be smugglers, or something, like that around here; and perhaps they take us for revenue officers trying to nip them at their work. Whew! spells more trouble for us, I'm afraid. First the storm; then that awful spell of gone feeling; and now it's smugglers. Whew! I say!"