It was Barton and his crooked accomplices coming back. Fortunately for Rob, they were behind a dune, so that it was impossible for them to observe him. But in a moment, the boy realized with a thrill, they would be upon him.
Quick as a flash, and hardly realizing what he was doing, Rob sought the only place of concealment close at hand—the space under the raised bow of the boat. He had hardly squeezed into his cramped quarters before the trio of rascals topped the rise.
Rob, with a sinking of the heart, realized at that moment that it would have been better for him to have taken his chances and run away from the scene. But it was too late now. With something that was not exactly fear, but very like it, Rob recognized the fact that he was a concealed passenger, a stowaway, on board a boat on which his presence might cost him his life.
As these reflections ran through his mind the men drew closer, talking about the "clever" work they had done.
"I guess Barr and his Peacemaker can say good-bye to Uncle Sam now," laughed one of them.
"Yes, and the best of it is that Barton will never be suspected," responded the other. "Our government will be manufacturing submarines of the Barr type, while Barr and the United States Government are still in blissful ignorance of the fact that all efforts are for nothing."
"You can bet I never put through a job unless I do it right," struck in Barton with great self-complacency.
Rob, crouched in his cramped place of concealment, flushed with anger. Right then and there he determined that, come what might, he would see this strange adventure of his through to the bitter end. This resolve was still in his mind when the two men shoved the boat off, bade good-night to the rascally Barton, and, all unconscious of their secreted passenger, got under way.
"If I get out of this alive, I'll be lucky," soliloquized Rob as he heard the oars and felt the boat moving through the water. "I wonder if I've done right? At any rate I'm in it now, and, as a Boy Scout, I'm going to see it through."