The two men showed no inclination to leave. They talked earnestly together, evidently making plans of some sort. Though the girls tried hard to overhear, they could catch only an occasional word. After awhile, Ma Harper, a wiry, ugly woman with stringy black hair, came outdoors to join the men on the steps.
“It’s getting late,” she warned. “If you’re goin’ to tend to that job today, you’ll have to be gettin’ across the river. Ain’t you due to show up for work at four o’clock, Joe?”
“That’s right,” the man yawned, getting up. “I’ll be glad when I can chuck the whole business and live without workin’.”
Though Penny and Sally did not hear much of the conversation, it was evident to them that the men were about ready to make use of the boat.
“We’re sunk,” Sally whispered fearfully. “Maybe we ought to climb out of here and make a dash for it.”
Penny offered a better idea. “Why not untie the rope, and let the boat drift off?” she proposed. “The current is swift and should carry us downstream fairly fast.”
“Any other boat around that they can use to follow us in?”
“I don’t see any.” Penny raised the sail a little higher as she gazed along the pier and nearby beach.
“All right, then do your stuff,” Sally urged.
While she held the sail slightly above Penny’s head so that no movement would be discernible to those on the house steps, the latter reached her hands from beneath the cloth and swiftly untied the rope. The boat began to drift away. Covered by the sail, the girls lay motionless and flat on the craft’s bottom.