Tom nudged his companions and they returned it. “Without question,” they thought, “they have been warned, and are waiting for us to put in an appearance.”
“I expected them to pass, long before this,” spoke another voice, “and keel haul me if I understand the delay.”
“Oh, give them time,” said the first speaker, “we have all night before us.”
“No, souse my tops if we have; the tide changes at two o’clock, and we want to take advantage of it.”
Here followed the sound of keels grating upon the sand. Through the gloom Tom could discern two large boats, in each of which were a half dozen men, armed to the teeth. Somehow, the voice of the last speaker sounded strangely familiar; Tom, who, like his two companions, lay flat upon the sand, crawled forward for a space in order that he might obtain a better view. As it chanced, in his path were a quantity of dry shells; and as he drew himself over these, they made a crackling noise.
“What’s that!” whispered one of the men in the boat nearest Tom.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you hear a sound from the beach over there?”
A laugh followed this.
“You thought you heard hoofs awhile ago,” said the second voice, from the other boat. “It’s all your imagination.”