"Out of the way, fellow," said Chesty, pushing him aside.
"My noble master has desire that you remain his guests," repeated the man, moodily, and there was a defiant twinkle in his pig-like eyes that indicated he had received positive orders to detain the strangers.
But Mr. Radley-Todd's ire was aroused.
"Stand back!" he cried threateningly. "Your master is not our master."
"Very true, Chesty," said Mr. Cumberford; and then they all hurried down the path toward the inlet. They were not three minutes behind Don Miguel, yet as they reached the dock the big launch left it, filled with dark-skinned men. In the stern stood Don Miguel, smoking his cheroot, and he made them an elaborate bow.
"Have patience, dear guests," said he. "I will satisfy myself if your boat is wreck or is not wreck, and soon will I return to consult with you. Kindly excuse until I have investigation made. Oblige me to use my island as if it were your own."
"The rascal!" cried Mr. Cumberford, as the boat of Don Miguel swept down the inlet. "Tumble into the launch, girls, quick! I believe we can get to the yacht before he does."
But the girls hesitated to obey, for Steve and Chesty Todd were bending over the bow of the launch, where the rope hawser had been replaced by a heavy chain, which was fastened by a huge padlock.
Steve picked up an iron bar, twisted it in the chain and endeavored to wrench the iron ring from its socket; but it was firmly embedded in the dock, being held by a powerful cement. Then he tried breaking away the launch, but the fastenings held firmly.