“Let’s hope so,” Jack told him, to bolster up his already drooping spirits. “Anyhow, if it hasn’t started to rain when we’re ready to pull out to-night, it’s agreed we’ll not hold back on account of a little ducking.”
“Yeou sed it, buddy,” Perk snapped with avidity, accompanying the words with one of his old-time grins, that told of renewed expectation of fresh achievement.
So after they had partaken of some cold refreshment to stay their hunger, they completed their preparations for sallying forth to inflict further damage on the enemy, and add to their consternation by all possible measures.
Their course was identical with that pursued on the former occasion. It was darker than on the previous night, owing no doubt to the curtain of clouds that shut off even the friendly starlight. Jethro, however, proved to be equal to his task, and as they made but comparatively slow progress down the swift running stream managed to steer his boat without colliding with the obstacles lying in wait. These bobbed up now to the right, and again to the left—seething little whirlpools, and ugly pointed rocks, but partially out of water—just as in days of old in Grecian seas, mariners had to keep clear of Scylla and Charybdis, two monsters who threatened their craft with destruction,—the whirlpool on one hand, and a cruel-fanged monster rock on the other.
They eventually reached the spot for which they aimed, and again was the powerboat screened behind that accommodating natural curtain. Then, after a little delay while gathering certain things (the possession of which would save a tedious trip back to the boat, such as had been Perk’s portion on that other occasion) the trio began their long crawl, with the idea of locating that inviting spot from whence they could view the camp, and yet be out of sight of the rough characters making up the working force of the smugglers.
To the dismay of Perk there was no airship awaiting action at the spot of the previous night’s blaze. Evidently the one Jack had heard pass over—and of which he had informed both his comrades—must have passed out again to where the mother-ship lay at anchor; or else possibly sped back to some island like the depot at Bimini, where another cargo could be taken on.
“But they mebbe might slip in some time to-night,” Perk told himself, in deadly fear that they were to have all their work for nothing, which would certainly have been too bad, and must grieve the honest fellow terribly.
As for Jack, he chanced to be thinking in quite a different direction.
It began to grow somewhat monotonous, just lying there and listening to what hilarious jokes and slangy conversation passed between the rough hired workers, smoking and drinking alongside the comfortable fires.
It was now getting along toward midnight, and they had been lying in that cramped condition for several hours. Some of the men had thrown themselves down near the fires, as though to pick up some sleep; but sagacious Jack noticed an air of expectation among them as a whole, which assured him they anticipated some fresh arrival, whether from the air or the river of course he could not say with certainty.