"There's a man on shore with a gun aimed plumb at us," replied Davis, pointing into the darkness ahead.
"Him one of Misser Morgan's men," said Washington. "Him all right, ah guess, maybe."
The boys started to row again when a loud command from shore made them rest on their oars with great dispatch.
"Halt, or I'll fire."
The words came out of the darkness in deep, determined tones. The boys could dimly distinguish the form of a man standing on a little bluff above them, with his rifle aimed with disturbing accuracy directly at their boat.
"We are friends from the Mariella," called Harry, "and are on our way to join Captain Dynamite."
"Captain Dynamite passed through the lines half an hour ago. He said he was travelling alone."
"Yes, that's right," answered Harry. "He thinks he is, but we want to help him. Let us come ashore and I will explain to you."
"Halt, or I fire," again came the command.
"Don't you think we better go back, Hal?" whispered Mason, who had crouched down in the bow out of the way of a stray bullet. "I don't care much for this real gun business. It's too exciting for my constitution."