Jack and Mont were startled by the unexpected cry from Meg. Both were thoroughly absorbed in the document which the former had picked up from the floor, and for an instant neither caught the full meaning of the girl's announcement.
"Andy Mosey!" repeated the young machinist, looking up from the agitated reading of that faded manuscript. "How in the world did he get here?"
"Heaven only knows!" ejaculated Mont. "Affairs seem to be all mixed, and I give it up. One thing is certain: he and Pooler are close friends."
"Or else have a mutual interest at stake," was Jack's comment. "Just as we two seem to have here," he continued, folding up the paper and putting it in an inside pocket.
"You're right. But what brings Mosey up to this end of the island?"
"Perhaps he thinks to find one or both of our bodies," suggested the young machinist.
"Did you hear me?" called out Meg again. "Pooler and Mosey are comin', and they've both got guns! Better skip out!"
Meg's language was forcible even if not well chosen. In her anxiety to do her two friends a good turn, she had overcome her dread of the so-styled haunted craft, and approached to within a few feet of the side, so that her shrill voice sounded plainly.
"It's a shame to leave these things here," said Mont, as he too, stuffed several papers in his pockets. "This boat was undoubtedly my father's property, and I believe I'm entitled to whatever is here."
"Certainly you are," replied Jack. "As it is, I intend to come back myself. But we can't do much, now, and if those two men see us they may make it very unpleasant, to say the least."