When Bobolink again reached the bow of the Comfort, and peered above the side, he glued his eyes to the spot where he knew the rope lay that held the boats moored to the shore.
And as the half moon condescended to peep from behind the dark clouds that had until now hidden her bright face, the scout could make out a flattened figure, that seemed to be hugging the earth, while creeping slowly forward.
Not only one, but three more, did he see, all in a line, as though in this way the conspirators had arranged to keep their courage up to the sticking point. Each fellow might watch his mates, and see that no one lagged behind.
Bobolink was quivering with eagerness and excitement. He figured that these night crawlers had only five more feet to cover before they would be as close to his "dead line" as prudence would dictate that he allow, since it might require only a single sweep of the knife to cut that rope.
They kept on advancing as though anxious to get the job over with, now that they had keyed their courage up to the proper pitch.
Another foot was all that Bobolink meant to allow, and then his time would come to act. Those last few seconds seemed fairly to crawl, so wrought-up was the waiting scout; but finally he concluded that it was no use holding off any longer. So he suddenly called out the one word:
"Now!"
Instantly a new sound broke the silence. Bobolink elevated the object he was hold in his hands. There came a queer, whizzing noise, like water squirting from the end of a nozzle; which was exactly what it was, and hot water in the bargain, not actually scalding, but of such a temperature to make a fellow wince, if it happened to sprinkle over-his face.
It was all Bobolink's idea. He had brought a little garden pump aboard during the afternoon, with the hose that went with it. There was a kerosene cookstove aboard each boat, used when going ashore might be unwise on account of rainy weather; and on this the artful schemer had heated his water. Every time he went back to that quarter he tested its temperature, to see whether it kept up to the pitch he meant it should be. And Andy's part of the job was to manipulate the handle of the little pump with all his vim and power.
Imagine the consternation of four plotters, who, when just about to carry out their pleasant little scheme, suddenly and without warning, found a spray of hot water touching every exposed part of their skin!