“I’m going to sleep on deck again tonight, Dad. Perez Soto’s boat is in these waters. I don’t think he’ll try anything tonight, but you never can tell.”
“All right, Biff. I agree. We can’t take any chances with success so near at hand.”
Biff rolled himself up in a sleeping bag and was asleep the minute he finished zipping it up. Early in the morning, an hour or more before sunrise, he was wide awake. He lay still, staring up at the sky. Stars covered it like a million white dots on a field of navy blue. A quarter moon, looking like an orange section, still hung in the sky.
A soft splash attracted Biff’s attention. He rose on one elbow and looked in the direction of the noise. It came again.
“Could be a fish jumping,” he told himself. Adjusting his eyes to the night, Biff peered more keenly toward the sound. He raised his glance, and his heart started thudding. Lying at anchor, not more than a quarter of a mile away, was the outline of a power boat. Biff was sure it was the same one which had tried to swamp the Easy Action.
Biff crept noiselessly to the stem of the yawl. He went below. Reaching his father’s berth, he shook him gently.
“Dad, Dad,” he whispered softly. “Wake up. I think someone’s trying to board the boat.”
Thomas Brewster was out of his berth in an instant. Li, hearing the noise, leaped out of his bunk, too.
Silently the three crept back to the cockpit. They raised their heads over the gunnel.
“Listen, Dad. Listen carefully. I heard a noise; sounded like a fish jumping. Right over there.”