“Yes; that’s what brought me down here. A small schooner answering the description of the one that lay at anchor all day off the island left the port last night after taking on three men.”
“Three men; that surely sounds like old Israel and his two precious sons.”
“That is what I thought. It clinches the matter in my mind.”
“Coupled with the actions of the schooner, I’ve reached the same conclusion,” said Nat.
“How long will it take the schooner to get around here, do you think?” asked Joe presently.
“Oh, quite a while yet,” responded Nate. “She’s got to beat up against the wind and take several tacks to make it.”
“To my mind that fact again puts this up to Harley,” said Nat. “He knows this island like a book, Nate says, and could get into the cove at any hour of the day or night. A stranger would never take a chance on running in in the dark.”
“Particularly on a night like this,” said Joe, as a long, shuddering blast of wind swept over the upturned boat.
Nat crept out from the shelter and made his way toward the cove. He was back in a short time with information that thrilled them all.
“The schooner is coming into the cove,” he announced in a tense voice.