“By the great horn spoon, but I believe you’re right!” gasped George.
“It’s either that, now, or else the gossoon’s been and had a fit,” Jimmy declared, though he could not remember that Josh had ever been addicted to such things.
“No; there have been two men here,” said Jack.
“Glory be!” ejaculated the Irish lad.
“Tell us how you know that, Jack?” asked George, his face struggling between a grin and a look of alarm.
“Why, it’s as plain as print; and if you look here, you’ll see the marks of their shoes. Both seem much larger than Josh ever made, and yet they are different, for one had heels, and the other must have been wearing some sort of moccasin, perhaps the kind I’ve got, to be used aboard a small, varnished decked boat, so as to avoid scratching.”
“Didn’t I say so?” burst out George, unable to hold in any longer. “After this you won’t think I’m off my base when I mention my suspicions about fellows who run away in the night, peek through marine glasses at us every chance they get, and just act like a parcel of sneaks. Jack, that fly-up-the-creek power boat must have been in this bayou when our chum came crawling through these bushes, and took a look out.”
“That’s about what I’m thinking, now,” admitted the other.
“Some of the men happened to be ashore, and saw him spying on the boat? Is that in line with what you think, Jack?”