“It will be nothing more than child’s play now, provided they do not land too near here,” he whispered to himself, and just as the boats pushed off from the schooner, Gil and Nelse crept close to the watcher’s side.
“Is there any chance of our getting the yacht again?” the former asked; but his father motioned for him to be silent.
The remainder of the party came up before the mutineers were half-a-dozen yards from the vessel, and a few moments later Captain Mansfield saw, to his dismay, that the men intended to land directly in front of his hiding-place.
It seemed as if this must be a deathblow to all his plans, and the boys mentally braced themselves for the struggle both believed to be at hand.
The men rowed leisurely, singing and laughing, evidently fancying themselves the only human beings in the vicinity, and the little tender struck the beach not more than a dozen feet from where the anxious ones were concealed.
The bows of the boats were pulled up on the sand to prevent them from drifting away, and then the mutineers pushed straight on into the thicket, probably bent on exploring the key to learn if it would serve them as a rendezvous.
They were making so much noise that the watchers might have conversed in ordinary tones; but Captain Mansfield did not take any such chances, when he whispered to Gil:
“You and Nelse go back to where Jenkins is waiting with the boat. Send him to me, and get on board. Move cautiously down to the very mouth of the cove, and stay there, with oars in the rowlocks, until you see us push one of these crafts from the shore. Then row for the schooner the best you know how.”
This was no time to ask questions, and the orders were obeyed instantly.
Mr. Jenkins was but a short distance away, and when Gil had repeated his father’s instructions the mate hurried off, leaving the boys to carry out their part of the programme unaided.