"It's coming from that barrel!"
The words came from Captain Akers.
"Impossible!" cried Nat.
"I'm not so sure about that," struck in Cal. "I've got purty good ears, an' it certainly seems to me that the singing is coming frum that keg."
"Ahoy there!" shouted the captain, determined to put an end to the mystery once and for all. "Who are you in that keg?"
"Ahoy!" came back the answer in ringing tone, though somewhat muffled. "I'm Sam Hinckley, a marooned sailor. Who——"
But Sam got no further. With vigorous strokes the boat was pulled alongside, while the Motor Rangers and their chums shot out volleys of questions. The barrel was quickly secured alongside and the top, after some difficulty, broken in with an oar butt.
The next instant Sam, rather pale and wan looking, but otherwise seemingly not much the worse for his ordeal, emerged from it. As soon as he was somewhat recovered, and the boat once more under way, he related his story. As they had suspected, the placing of Sam in the barrel had been one of Morello's devices and came about in this way.
After Captain Akers and Cal had left the "Nomad" in search of the lads, Sam and Captain Nelsen took watch and watch about, waiting for something to transpire.
Sam was on watch in the early morning when, through the darkness, he saw the dark outline of the schooner—which, it will be recalled, had slipped out of the landlocked lake—heading toward them. Presently she came to anchor and stopped. A boat was lowered and several men, all armed fully, clambered into it.