“But it may be dangerous,” protested Harry.
“Pshaw! There’s not much danger to fear from a rat like Malvin.”
“But Hawke?”
“Depend upon it, he has good reasons for not wanting to be seen. I don’t apprehend any trouble with him. Now go below and tell Percy what we’ve decided on.”
Harry would have liked to add more protests about leaving their young leader alone on the River Swallow with the men, who, as they all knew, had deep cause to hate the railroad man’s son. But there was no choice in the matter for him, for, as they all knew, when Ralph’s mind was made up to anything, he could not be swerved from his determination.
In due time the River Swallow lay to off the lights of the Piquetville Yacht Club. The place was brightly illuminated and so was the town that lay behind it. Piquetville was a bustling, busy place. It maintained plenty of business and was very up-to-date in every way.
Down rattled the anchor.
“I wonder what Malvin thinks is in the wind,” said Harry, as he slipped into a shore-going coat and Percy appeared on deck by his side all ready to board the tender as soon as it should be lowered.
“You can depend upon it that he is sharp enough to know that something is up, but you can also bet that he will be too sharp to show it,” was Ralph’s rejoinder.
“Lower away the tender!” he hailed as Malvin reported the anchor down.