“There’s a hole running into that hummock there,” Dawson explained. “It is a crampy little bit of a hole, but it will conceal all three of us. Let’s work Ted in there first.”
This they proceeded to do, though with intense stealth and no hurry. They got Ted out of sight under the ground, at last, then more speedily concealed themselves.
“Fine, Joe, fine!” cheered Halstead, in a chuckling whisper. “Our chances of not being found have improved a hundred times!”
“If only Alvarez and his infernal crew will get away from this spot,” Joe whispered, in answer. “But the day that is beginning is absolutely the last day to save Ted’s fortune to him. If we trip up to-day there isn’t a chance of any kind left. He’ll simply lose!”
Tom kept his face close enough to the opening in the ground so that he could see outside for some little distance, and yet was sure that he himself was enough in the shadow not to be seen from outside.
By the time that the sun was well up Don Emilio insisted on another keen search. This time French and Gambon even trod through the edge of the thicket that had concealed the boys during the darkness. But the mouth of the hole under the hummock was still hidden from their eyes by other bushes.
By the time that the sun had been up for some time quiet had fallen in these woods. Tom and Joe might have felt tempted to make a sudden break for freedom, but the scratch of a match, not far away, warned them that at least one watcher was still in hiding.
“I wonder what time it is,” thought tormented Halstead, his mind ever upon that fateful session of probate court over at Nantucket. He got his watch out, holding it before his face. Then he made an appalling discovery. He had forgotten to wind up the time-piece, and it had run down.
“Your watch going, Joe?” the young skipper asked.
“No,” Dawson whispered back, after a moment spent in investigation.