“Oh, Noddy dropped his gun butt,” some one replied.
“I couldn’t help it, Bill, honest I couldn’t,” whined Noddy. “It slipped out of my hand.”
“Keep quiet!” exclaimed the one who had first spoken. “If you don’t know how to handle a gun let it alone. Then keep still. Do you want to bring the whole lake down on us? Above all, don’t yell out names like that.”
“All right, I’ll be careful,” said Noddy in a whisper.
“It’s so fearful dark I can’t see where the channel is,” said the man who was steering the motor boat. The craft, which was a large one, held five men, besides Noddy Nixon, who, if he had been kidnapped by the “River Pirates,” seemed to enjoy being in their company.
If Ned and Bob had been on watch they would have seen, coming over the water toward the sailing vessel a small dark object. They would have heard the throb of the motor in the boat, which was more plain, now that it was in the open. But they were both, snoring away, blissfully unconscious that their enemies were so close at hand.
Nearer and nearer came the boat, the man in the bow watching with eagle eyes as the schooner loomed out from the dark shadows of the woods.
“Any signs of anything suspicious?” asked Bill Berry, who stood near Noddy.
“Not as I can see,” came the whispered answer. “But we’ll take no chances. I’ll stop the engine now and we can row up the rest of the way. Then we’ll go aboard cautiously.”