Propelled by the oars, which were kept aboard the motor boat in case of emergencies, the craft made scarcely a sound as it slipped through the water. A few minutes later it slid alongside the schooner.
“Hold her steady,” said the man in the bow. “I’ll go up the ladder and see if the coast is clear.”
Over the side he stepped, dropping softly to the deck. Then every sense on the alert he moved forward. As he came around the galley he dimly saw, stretched out under the awning, the sleeping boys.
He listened a moment, and then softly crept nearer. Now he could hear the heavy breathing of the sleepers that told they were soundly slumbering.
“I’m going to chance it,” the man said softly to himself. “I’ve got to know who they are.”
He struck a match and, shading the flame with his hands, held it as close as he dared to the sleeping ones. At once the man started back with a half-smothered exclamation.
“Two of the boys!” he muttered. “They found us after all, and are on guard. Lucky for us they’re asleep. What shall we do?”
It did not take the man long to make up his mind. He went softly to the side of the schooner, and was soon back in the motor boat.
“Well, Paxton, what’s the verdict?” asked Bill Berry. “Any one aboard?”