“Any news?” asked Jones, as he spread the lunch on one of the napkins.
“Not a word,” replied the deserter. “I haven’t seen Mack or any of his squad for a long time.”
“We have,” said Lester. “We’ve just had some fun in getting away from them.”
Of course Enoch wanted to know all about it, and Jones told the story while they were eating their lunch. The good things that Cony had put up for them rapidly disappeared before their attacks, but busy as they were, they did not neglect to keep their eyes and ears open. They depended upon Cony and his hound to guard one side of the grove, and upon themselves to detect the presence of any danger that might threaten them from other directions; but Mack and his men never came near them. Being well acquainted with Cony Ryan, they knew it would be a waste of time to look for a deserter about his premises. The old fellow was a staunch and trustworthy friend. He could not be bribed, coaxed or flattered into betraying a boy’s confidence.
It seemed as if the day never would draw to a close. As Enoch did not think it safe to venture near the house, Jones and Lester kept him company in the grove, where they rolled about on the grass, consulting their watches every few minutes and laying out a programme for their cruise. By this time it was understood that Enoch was to command the schooner. He was delighted when Lester proposed it, accepted the responsibility without the least hesitation, and spoke confidently of his ability to make the cruise a lively one and to give their pursuers a long chase, if he could only succeed in getting the yacht out into the bay.
The hours wore away, and when six o’clock came the deserter and his friends finished what was left of their lunch and began to bestir themselves. Jones and Lester returned to Cony Ryan’s house, which they found deserted by all save the proprietor and his family, the members of the band having formed themselves into little squads and strolled off toward the dock. Having made sure that the coast was clear, Jones went out on the back porch and gave a shrill whistle, to which the deserter responded in person.
“Now, Lester,” said Jones, when Enoch entered the house, “you stay here and act as look-out for Williams, and I will take a scout about the village and see how things look there. It will be dark by the time I come back, and then we will make a start.”
Jones was gone a long while, but the report he brought was a favorable one. The members of the band were all hidden about the dock, awaiting Enoch’s appearance with much anxiety and impatience, and Coleman was ready to carry out his part of the contract. The sails were cast loose, and all they had to do was to slip the anchor, and let the current carry them down the river. He had seen nothing of Captain Mack or his men, nor had he been able to find any one who could tell him what had become of them. He believed they had gone back to camp.
“Mack rather plumes himself on his success in capturing deserters, I believe,” said Enoch, as he arose from the sofa on which he had been lounging and put on his cap. “He fails sometimes, doesn’t he?”