“All right,” growled Tim. “But let’s quit this nursemaid job as soon as we can, Jeff. We’re good pals of yours—and this ain’t no game for a grown man, you know that.”
“’Twon’t be so bad,” said Jeff, comfortingly. “Nights ain’t so long—and you can take turns sleeping. It’s all right as long as one of you stays awake.”
“So long, Jeff,” said both the men who were to stay behind, then, in unison.
“Good-night,” answered Jeff. “I’ll have a boat at the point for you at daylight. Good luck!”
And he went off, quietly, walking easily, so that the noise of his footsteps would not reach those on the beach below.
From the beach the voices of the girls rose faintly. Words could not be distinguished, but Bessie and Dolly could both guess that their prolonged absence must be beginning to give Miss Eleanor and the others some uneasiness.
They were trapped, however, although they were in no real danger. The men who had been left on guard were between them and the path; they could not possibly pass them without arousing them, and they did not care to take the chance of making a wild dash for freedom unless it became absolutely necessary.
Bessie weighed the chances. It seemed likely to her that she and Dolly, taking the two men by surprise, could slip by them and reach the beach safely. But if they did that, the men would know that their plans were known, and that their talk had been overheard, and that would be to throw away half of the advantage they had gained. It would be better a thousand times, Bessie felt, to wait, and take the faint chance that both men might go to sleep together, and so give them the chance to escape unseen.
For some minutes the silence was unbroken save for the faint murmur of the voices from the beach. Then Larry spoke to his companion.
“Say, Tim, don’t think much of this game, do you?” he said.