“Sure,” assented Frank. “We may not be picked up until along toward night. And we’ll want water. Lucky we’ve got some empty cracker tins to carry it in.”
They put the food and water aboard, rigged up their rude sail, and then carried their prisoner aboard, as it would be awkward to handle him after the raft was afloat.
Meanwhile they had looked eagerly for any sign of an approaching sail, but had seen nothing.
“Well, I guess we can get aboard,” spoke Frank at length. “It’s been quite an adventure for us, and I’m glad it’s about over. Paul Gale will soon know who he is.”
“We’ll see,” sneered the man.
The raft was afloat. With their paddles the boys began to work it slowly from shore. The wind caught their small sail.
Suddenly Frank, who was seated ahead of his brother, uttered a cry.
“Sail ho! Sail ho!” he shouted.
“Where?” demanded Andy.
“Right over there and she’s headed this way,” said Frank, pointing. “It’s a big motor boat. I believe it’s coming to rescue us, Andy! Let’s wait a bit!”