But what interested them most was the appearance of a ship riding at anchor to the westward, in one of the several bays previously mentioned. It was a sailing vessel of fair size, carrying a single mast.
"That's not the Peacock!" ejaculated Sam.
"You're right!" cried Tom. "She's a stranger. Hurrah! Perhaps Dick has followed us up, after all!"
"Anyway, we ought to find friends on that ship, Tom. Let us get to her as soon as possible."
"I'm willing. But I must rest a bit, I'm so dead tired."
"I wish we could get those on the strange ship to make the Baxters and
Captain Langless prisoners."
"Perhaps we can. But it will be a good deal to get out of the clutches of the enemy, even if we can't do any more."
Feeling much elated over the discovery of the strange vessel, the boys rested for quarter of an hour, and then, descending to the ground, struck out rapidly once more through the woods and underbrush. As they proceeded Tom carried his pistol in his hand, in case some wild animal might start up in their path, but nothing of the sort came to view.
As they came closer to the shore they found that the ground was wet and boggy, and they had to pick their way with care. Once Sam went into the soil up to his ankles, and dragged himself out only with great difficulty. Then they made a detour, coming out on the beach some distance below where the strange ship was anchored.
Halting behind a convenient bush, they surveyed the ship with interest. On the deck they discovered a man and a lady. The lady was sitting in an easy-chair, and the man stood by, leaning on a railing. Both were talking earnestly.