“Listen,” warned Tom.
Faintly there came the noise of a motor-boat to their straining ears.
“Here they are!” shrilled Helen.
“Will you be still?” demanded her brother. “That’s not Copley’s boat. It’s a deal bigger craft. She’s on the other side of the island.”
Helen leaned forward and caught at his sleeve. “Look there!” she whispered. “There is the Lauriette.”
She had been the first to see the outline of the Copley launch moored close to the shore of the island at its upper end.
“They’ve gone ashore,” said Tom. “Where can they be? If that other boat is approaching this island——”
“Oh, Tom! The pirates!”
“Oh, fudge!”
“The smugglers, then. Chess said he believed there were smugglers here.”