“I don’t believe it, Davis,” was the reply. “They just doused their lights and dropped into the lagoon. I was watching the river and no lights showed below the island.”
“Well,” Davis said, “we can soon find out. It isn’t far from here to the lagoon, though it’s mighty unpleasant traveling in the night time. You may be right, but I don’t believe it.”
The two men passed within six feet of where Alex lay, concealed, and as soon as the thicket closed behind them, he crept along in their wake. As the men made considerable noise themselves, he figured that they would not be likely to hear any racket he might make.
In fifteen minutes the three reached the highest point on the island, from which, in daylight, both the main channel of the river and the lagoon might be seen. Just at the moment they came within sight of the inner channel the lights flared out on the Rambler.
Alex restrained an exclamation of disgust with great difficulty.
“The confounded idiots!” he said under his breath. “To go and light those lamps at this time! Why, we crawled in there to hide!”
“There!” the boy heard the man who had been called Bostock exclaim, “I told you the motor boat had made for the lagoon!”
“Well, you were right,” was the reply.
“Now, all we’ve got to do,” Bostock went on, “is to run the steamer up to the mouth of the lagoon and nail these boys in good and tight.”
“That’s right,” the other answered, “and once we get hold of that motor boat there isn’t a thing we can’t do on this river. I’ve heard of the exploits of those boys all the way down from Pittsburg. That boat is built with the motors of a sea-going tug, and can outrun anything on the river. Besides that, unless I am greatly mistaken, the cabin and the deck under the gunwales are bullet-proof.”