“The tide’s coming in,” said Jerry. “It will soon be time to act. I hope we can get to the Dartaway without being seen.”
“We’ve got to,” spoke Ned. “If they see us it means we’ll have a lot of trouble. We must crawl along until we get close to her. Then we’ll get in. I’ll crank up, you can steer, and Bob can use a boat-hook to fend us out from the shore.”
“Lucky she’s headed the right way to get out of the cove,” Jerry remarked. “It will save time by not having to turn her.”
Thus it was arranged, and the boys, tired and hungry, remained hidden in the grass until it was dark enough to put their plan in operation.
They watched the sloop closely. After their supper aboard, the men came on deck and stood conversing a while. The boys could just make out their forms in the dusk. One seemed to be doing the most talking, and he frequently motioned off toward the sea.
“Acts as if he was trying to get them to go somewhere,” spoke Bob softly.
But in the end the men went ashore, and after looking to the fastening of the motor boat and a small rowing craft tied near it, they went into the shack. Presently lights shone from it, and Jerry said:
“I guess we can sneak down now. Go easy, everybody.”
Cautiously the boys left their hiding places and began to descend the slope that led from the bluff to the shore of the cove. Every now and then they paused to listen. They could hear the men laughing and talking in the hut.
Foot by foot they crept nearer. There was a path leading from the top of the sand dune to the hut, but the boys did not take this, fearing they would be seen. Instead they crawled on their hands and knees through the grass. The process was a painful and slow one, for their arms and legs came in contact with sand burrs, while innumerable insects attacked them. But they suffered in silence.