“It is a wonder,” Case commented, “that the fellows didn’t make an attack on the Rambler! After they searched us, they talked for a long time in whispers and then started away. I believe they did go to the boat—and Clay there alone!”
“We ought to make better time,” Jule observed. “Where do we get the trolley?”
“Unless we get an owl car,” Alex. replied, “we’ll get none at all until the early run, and that will be after five o’clock. Guess we’ve got to walk it.”
Eager, yet almost dreading, to learn the exact state of affairs on the motor boat, the boys traveled fast, breaking into a run now and then, much to the wonder and amazement of the few negroes they encountered making their way to the business section.
At last, just before daylight, they came in sight of the boat. A short distance up the bank a bright camp-fire was burning, and several figures could be seen moving around it. All was quiet on board the Rambler. No lights were in sight, either from the cabin or the prow. The boys waited a short time, wondering, and then Jule went to the levee and looked for the rowboat. It was not there.
“They’ve got possession, I reckon,” he said, when he came back.
“Then all we’ve got to do is to take it away from them!” Alex. suggested.
“But how?” asked Jule. “We can’t go on board without their seeing us.”
“First,” Alex. went on, “I’m going to make a sneak up to that fire and find out what those men are talking about. They may be all-right fellows, for all we know.”
The others waited breathlessly for the boy’s return. When he came back he said: