The Englishmen, also, hoped to take the boat without destroying the prow light, for they knew very well that they would have need of it in the hasty journey they had planned to start out on the minute they gained possession of the Rambler. The outcome of all this was that the two parties remained hidden in the forest, each watching the other, and each hoping that the other would make a rush for the deck of the boat.
This was the situation when Jule plunged into the creek and, under water, in a slow current, struck out for the rear of the boat, protected by the boughs of the tree and the bulk of the cabin from the rays of the light on the prow. The last thing he heard as he leaped into the warm waters of Ruination creek were the words of Case and Frank promising to follow him by the under-water route to the cabin and the noisy expostulations of Captain Joe at being kept out of the fight!
“The dog will be frantic when he hears me opening the window,” thought the lad, as he turned on his back and came up for a mouthful of air. “I hope he won’t advertise the fact that I’ve come aboard.”
So, while Frank and Case were waiting in the keenest anxiety at the point from which Jule had entered the water, while Clay and Alex were in the bushes not far away, watching with all the eyes in their heads for a shot at their enemies, and while the two Englishmen were trying to mature some plan for getting into the boat without running the risk of passing under the light, Jule made his way along the bottom of the creek, rising to breathe only at rare intervals, and finally came up, without being discovered, at the rear of the boat.
The rear deck, or platform, for it was little more, was entirely out of sight and range of the fighters in the forest on the bank the boy had just left, so he climbed up on it with confidence. But a new peril awaited him. Captain Joe set up such a volley of barks, and growls, and scratchings that it seemed to the boy that those on shore must understand that something unusual was going on in the boat and make a rush for it. The dog was certainly doing his duty, so far as noise went, in guarding the Rambler!
“Captain Joe!” called Jule.
The dog let out a fiercer challenge than before.
“Captain Joe!” repeated the lad. “If you don’t quit that I’ll come in there and crack your crust!”
Jule checked himself and broke into a chuckle. He had been much given to the use of slang in the old days, and it still seemed to come involuntarily to his lips, so did more than his share of the dish-washing as a result. There was never anything profane or coarse about his lapses into the dialect of the street, but by common consent all slang had been barred. Now he was glad that Clay was not near to hear this new outburst.
The dog began sniffing at the window on the inside. He would have recognized Jule, doubtless, in a moment only for the odor of sulphur with which his clothes, even though they were wet, was permeated.