But Teddy did not have an opportunity to express his thoughts on the subject, if he had any, for just at that instant there came a blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a peal of thunder which seemed to shake the solid earth.
“Whew, but that was a corker!” cried the boy. “Wonder if I’m all here?”
But Alex had no time to consider this last conundrum, for just at that minute the lights of the Rambler made their appearance, coming up the stream. Alex had no means of knowing, of course, whether she was manned by friend or foe, so he switched off his electric and stood on the bank waiting in the wind and rain.
Directly the motor boat came to a halt at the side of a little rocky projection which extended into the stream for some distance, and the boy was no longer in doubt as to the character of the crew.
A frowsy head appeared above the rail of the boat and a hoarse voice demanded:
“Who’s there?”
It was clear that the Rambler was in the possession of the pirates! Alex stood mute, awaiting developments.
Presently the low murmur of voices was heard, seeming to come from the shore, and Alex listened eagerly, but could not distinguish the voices. At times he was almost certain that the speakers were Clay and Jule, but the wind carried their voices downstream, and he could not be certain. He listened intently, listening at the same time, too, for the sound of advancing footsteps.
But the rush of the wind, the downpour of the rain effectually drowned all other sounds save at rare intervals. The frowsy head, evidently gaining courage, now spoke again.
“Whoever you are, come aboard!” the voice said.