“Jack!” exclaimed Tom, as a sudden thought shot into his head, “that must be Bully Banjo’s schooner.”
“You think so?”
“Well, what other vessel would put in here? It’s true that we had to seek shelter, but a wind that would sink us wouldn’t bother a large vessel. This is a lonely place, and just the sort of harbor Simon Lake would seek.”
“But we are in here; surely he wouldn’t risk the chance of actual discovery?”
“But he doesn’t know we’re here. The sloop is painted black. It is unlikely that he sighted us beating in for shore this afternoon. We’d better tell the others.”
“That’s right,” agreed Jack, starting for the cabin door. But Tom laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t open it,” he said. “They’d see the light.”
“Then how are we to tell them of what we have seen?”
“Tap on the cabin roof and then speak down the ventilator.”
“Good idea. We’ll do it.”