With the aid of his mates, Captain Tom had the anchor overboard, and the small tender alongside in a jiffy. Hepton stepped down into the smaller craft, carrying his rifle so that it could be seen. Tom himself took the oars to row.
“I’d better put you in on the bank to the left,” whispered Halstead, and Hepton nodded.
They passed within forty yards of the stern of the drab boat, yet not a single human being appeared on that mysterious craft.
Having put Hepton on shore, Halstead rowed back for Mr. Seaton. Embarking this second passenger, Tom, this time, rowed a little closer to the seventy-footer lying at anchor in the river’s mouth. Now, the head of a man unknown to either of them showed aft.
“Where you-all goin’ with so many guns?” this man asked, in a half-jeering tone.
“Night hunting,” retorted Tom, dryly, not feeling guilty of a lie since he was certain the other would not believe him.
Landing Mr. Seaton on the other river bank, the young captain of the “Restless” returned to his craft.
By now it was nearly dark.
“We may as well see how the searchlight is working,” Joe Dawson suggested. 137
“Turn it on them, and sweep it around,” responded Halstead.