“We’re sinking! Quick Bill! Get the boat over and find me a life preserver. I don’t want to drown!”
At the sound of the mysterious voice, coming so plainly amid the stillness that followed the crash the boys were startled.
“Doesn’t that sound just like—” began Bob.
“Hush!” cautioned Jerry in a whisper. “Wait a while before you talk.”
“I tell you we’re sinking!” the voice went on. “They rammed a hole clear through us. They did it on purpose! They want to capture me!”
“Keep quiet, you numbskull!” the boys heard some one exclaim in reply. “You’ll be caught quick enough if you don’t keep still. Do you want to give the whole thing away? Get below before they flash that search light on the deck and see who you are!”
Silence ensued, broken only by the sound of some one moving about on the deck of the schooner.
“Flash the light on ’em!” called Ned.
Jerry swung the big gas lamp around on its pivot, and the blinding white glare illuminated the schooner. The only person to be seen on deck was a man at the helm, and, by the beams the boys could see he was roughly dressed.
For an instant the steersman stood plainly revealed in the beams. He wore nothing on his head, but, as soon as the glare set him out from the darkness he caught up from the rail a slouch hat which he pulled over his eyes, screening the upper part of his face.