IV
MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS
There was no mistaking that sharp, whip-like report. It was the crack of a revolver!
Breaking the silence at a time when they had felt certain that the nearest human being was miles away, the sound had a startling effect on the five boys. Not one but felt a thrill of apprehension, almost of dread. Who besides themselves was astir at so late an hour on that lonely island? Why? The weapon that produced the report must have been aimed at something. What? For a moment they remained silent, breathless.
Spang!
A second shot, distant but distinct, rang out from beyond the brow of the bank behind the cabin. Spurling sprang from his bunk.
"Boys!" he shouted. "Somebody's after those sheep! Turn out!"
Hurriedly he began dressing. The other four followed his example, fumbling with clumsy fingers in the darkness. Nemo gave a short, sharp bark.