“We’re spotted, of course,” he said, when Frank concluded the story. “If we had only tipped His Nobbs off the ship on the way over.”
“I suggested that to Ned,” Frank answered, “but he only laughed at me. He declared the fellow to be the missing link between himself and the principals in the Gatun dam plot.”
“What’s the answer?” demanded Jack, with a puzzled air.
“Why, it is his theory that half of the criminals of the world would escape punishment if they could only learn to lie quiet until they were looked up.”
“I see. His notion was that the plotters, guided by His Nobbs, would visit us with hostile intentions, and that they might leave a trail back to their own camp.”
“That is about it.”
“Well, they seem to have looked us up all right.”
The other boys now came tumbling out of the cottage, shouting their greetings to Frank and Jack and the golden morning, and clamoring for breakfast. Five minutes later, when the events of the night had been explained, their healthy appetites had vanished. Even when the cook began preparations for the morning meal, filling the air with tantalizing odors of cooking food, they sat in serious consultation with no thought of breakfast in their minds.
“What ought we to do?” asked Jack.