"I only hope the gang don't capture them before they make the boat safely. Listen!"
They stopped in their tracks and listened as the night wind bore to their ears the sound of gunfire from the beach. It was far over to one side of them. They could hear distant shouts, then the spasmodic firing of revolvers followed again.
"They must be having a sweet time. I guess the gang are trying to keep them from getting the boat," said Chet.
Then they heard the muffled roar of the motorboat in the cove.
"They're getting away!" declared Biff, in excitement. "You can hear the boat backing out."
More revolver shots—more shouts—the roar of the Sleuth's engine continued.
"As long as they get away safely I'm not worrying much," Chet said. "Just the same, I'd rather be with them. But they'll bring back help."
"In the meantime, the best thing we can do is to hide."
"The gang will be scouring the island for us now that they know we didn't get away with the others. And they won't be any too gentle with us either, if they get us."
Chet and Biff decided that it would be best to get as near the shore as possible before concealing themselves, so as to be ready for a rush to safety should the Hardy boys return with the promised assistance. By the sound of the motorboat and the shooting, they judged that the narrow trail led toward the shore, so they followed it as well as they could in the darkness. The wet branches slashed their faces and they stumbled over roots and slipped in the wet, deep grass, but gradually the sound of the breaking surf drew closer and they knew they were coming nearer to the beach.