A short line held the boat close under the stern of the black schooner, upon which he could see no sign of life.
“I might cast off and slip ashore without a soul on this vessel being the wiser,” he thought. “I could find the boys and bring them on board. What could we do then? There are, at least, four sailors. There are but four of us. It is a sure thing that the sailors are armed, and we are not. It’s more than even chances that they’d do us up in a square fight.”
It did not take him long to decide he would not be in a hurry about bringing the rest of the boys on board, but he resolved to go on board himself.
With the aid of the line, he pulled the boat close under the stern of the vessel, and, a moment later, he slipped like a cat over the rail of the Pirate and reached her deck.
Frank crouched low in the shadow of the wheel, listening and trying to peer through the darkness. He saw no moving thing. The wind was whistling through the rigging of the heaving schooner, and a loose rope was making a slatting sound, but that was all.
Frank moved. He did not stand upright, but, on his hands and knees, he crept along the deck toward the companionway. He had not gone far before the sound of voices reached his ears.
“They are all below,” he decided.
The companionway was reached, and he started to slip down the stairs. He had not gone far before he halted suddenly and turned his head, having heard a sound behind him.
At that very moment, with a hoarse shout, a man sprang down the stairs and landed on Frank’s shoulders.
With a crash and a bump, they went to the bottom together. Frank received a shock that robbed him of his senses for the moment, so that he was utterly helpless.