"And row back here before you go," continued Ned.
"And swim to the beach again?" called Pat, glancing cautiously about. "Not on your whiskers!"
"Afraid of a little crocodile not more then forty feet long!" laughed Frank, as Pat reached the beach and entered the boat.
"Here's the boat," Pat called, in a few moments, touching the bow of the Manhattan. "What next!"
"I'm going with you and bring it back," Ned replied. "When you boys reach the beach you'll have to call out. I'm going to take the Manhattan out farther."
"All right!" Pat said. "I think you need to after that shot!"
"And tell the boys," Ned went on, "that they'll have the chiefs of a hundred tribes of dog-eaters after them if they don't get to the boat right quick!"
"I guess that ought to bring them!" Frank said.
Ned accompanied Pat to the beach, brought the boat back, and then moved the Manhattan some distance out in the bay.
"Do you really think the boys are in danger?" asked Frank, after they had settled down to a careful watch of the beach.