“If the kid would only hurry and get his bags we could get away from here. If I knew how to run that blamed boat I’d start her off right now,” said one of the shadows.
“Oh, well, what’s the use of getting impatient. We’ve loafed along for a while now, things have died down, we’ve got the police guessing, the stuff is safe, and we’ll soon be on our way,” the other shadow replied.
With this there came the flare of a match as one of them lighted still another cigarette. Frank started violently as the glow became bright, fearing lest he be discovered, and held his breath in fear that they might hear.
“It is a good thing we’ve got a can of gasoline on board. That was a wise idea, getting an extra five gallons. We can get a long distance away before daybreak, and then take a train. I wonder what’s keeping him so long.” One of them was still very impatient to be on the way.
A five-gallon can of gasoline aboard that boat!
The thought struck Frank fairly in the middle of the brain, and he wondered whether it might be possible to get it.
Just then the Fates stepped in.
“Let’s walk along and see if we can help,” one of the men suggested.
With this the two walked quietly away from Frank toward the center of the island.
Their boat was the one he had seen. It was tied to the wharf near by and it had a five-gallon can of gasoline on board, waiting for him to help himself?