He held up a large paper bag into which he had peeped. It contained half a dozen plump ham sandwiches.
“While we are about it suppose we see what other treasures are in the ship’s chest.”
They found a most interesting stock indeed. Five black pieces of muslin, each with two peep-holes, several sets of false whiskers, two pairs of brass knuckles, three metal rings from each of which dangled more than a dozen keys of varying sizes, a box of revolver cartridges, a formidable knife, some twine and a number of articles of no importance.
“They tell their story,” said Chester, holding them up one after another for his chum’s inspection. “If the officers of the law arrest us, we shall have to depend upon our friends to prove an alibi.”
“Meanwhile there is no need to keep those sandwiches waiting.”
“Wonder if they are poisoned,” laughed Chester, as he passed one to his chum, and sank his teeth in another. “Anyhow, I’m going to take chances.”
“So am I. They don’t seem to have any cooking utensils on board, so coffee and warm food are to be denied us.”
The Captain ate with one hand on the steering wheel, and frequent glances ahead. Now and then they would find themselves approaching a sharp projection of land, around which the launch was steered, and then perhaps would glide past a cunning looking cove, too narrow to admit a boat of large size. Once, while doubling a cape, they came within a hair of running down a small rowboat propelled by a single occupant. He shouted angrily for the steersman to keep a better lookout.
“I’m sorry!” called back Alvin; “but the fog bothers us. Will you please tell me how far it is to Beartown landing?”
“’Bout half a mile, mebbe a little more. Who are you?”