“I guess he’s worrying about those men,” suggested Josh.
“Oh! I don’t think so,” George hastened to say. “They wouldn’t dare try attack us here, you know. It would be a breach of the law for which they could be sent to prison for years. Jack’s got some other notion in his brain, believe me.”
Meanwhile the object of all this speculation idly paddled a little distance out on the moonlit water, and sat there in his small craft, as though enjoying the silvery glow.
He looked around him on all sides, and particularly in that quarter of the wind from whence had come the faint “chug-chug” of a motor’s eccentric pulsations. But nothing could be seen save the dim outlines of the next island.
After a while, as a cloud covered the moon, Jack came back and clambered aboard once more.
“Here, is this an all-night session of the club?” he asked. “Already it’s ten minutes after eleven. If you fellows want to get any sleep tonight, better be turning in right now. Josh and myself have the first two hour watch, you understand.”
Accordingly there was a breaking up of the conference; goodnights were exchanged, and those who had drawn the first spell of rest crept into their comfortable blankets.
Of late their sleep had been somewhat broken, as we happen to know, what with the coming of specters and such things. On this account every one of the four soon dropped off asleep.
Jack could hear Jimmie breathing heavily in less than ten minutes. Apparently Jack had something on his mind, for leaning over toward where he could see Josh sitting he asked in a low tone:
“How is it there, Josh; is Herb asleep yet?”