“Ship’s coming in,” he said in Spanish, but the boys understood him.
Just as the meal was over the Mexican looked out of the door and got up. “The boat is in,” he said to Sackett.
The leader arose quickly and motioned to the boys. “Come on, you boys, we’re moving. Abel, bring up in the rear.”
“Where are we going?” Jim asked.
“You’ll find out when you get on board,” retorted Sackett, as he marched them out of the shack.
“Evidently on a ship,” murmured Terry.
He was right. Off the shore a battered old schooner with two masts was tossing gently to and fro and near them on the beach a long boat was hauled up, with its crew of six waiting. The men touched their caps when Sackett approached.
“Get in the boat,” ordered Sackett, and the boys climbed in, taking their places in the stern seats. The outlaws followed, all but Manuel, who stood on the shore.
“Get the horses back to the hide-out,” Sackett said to the Mexican. “We’ll be back soon.” To the boat’s crew, who had taken their places at the oars he said, “Row us alongside.”
The crew pulled with a will and the boat moved from the shore, out onto the blue waters of the Pacific. After a row of a half mile they ranged alongside of the schooner, which had the name Galloway painted on the stern. Jim and Terry were ordered up the side ladder, where they dropped over the rail to the deck. Sackett and Abel, followed by the crew, speedily joined them.