All hands watched breathlessly for a second or two. Then, as straight and true as a well-aimed bullet, the grappling hook fell and caught at the "Victor's" stern rail.
Not an instant did the young motor boat skipper lose. There was no time to inquire whether someone else wanted to go first. Tom Halstead seized the tautening line with both hands, and began to climb as only a sailor can go up a rope.
His head quickly appeared above the steam yacht's stern rail. Tom Halstead slipped onto the deck just in time to see two men walking slowly aft. One of them was in uniform—perhaps he was the captain of the steam yacht. But the other, in civilian dress, the young motor yacht captain knew instantly from the description of him which he had heard.
"Frank Rollings, the absconding cashier!" flashed through Tom's mind.
CHAPTER XXIII ROLLINGS'S LAST RUSE
Both approaching men were regarding the deck, talking in earnest tones as they came astern.
"If we should pass out of this fog," Rollings was saying, "and if the 'Panther' should prove to be close to us——"
Just at this point the speaker stopped. He panted, then staggered back, clutching at his uniformed companion.
In almost the same instant both caught sight of lone Tom Halstead.