"Go on; I'm all ears."
"After a bit, I'm going to take the dinghy and paddle over to that sharpie. Somehow or other, I feel that there is some one there in need of assistance. Perhaps it's none of our business, and I'm silly to even think of running such a risk, but something seems to impel me to go; I can't tell you just what."
"Not alone, Frank? Why not take me along, too?" pleaded Jerry.
"No. One can get along in that stumpy little boat fine, while with two it is a clumsy affair. You know that. I only mean to hover near, in the darkness, and find out, if possible, what's doing. Perhaps I may not go closer than fifty feet—unless something happens!"
Jerry did not insist. He realized that what Frank said was the truth, for he had had experience with that same cranky little craft when a second party occupied a place in it.
They sat and talked in low tones for half an hour. Frank made all his plans, and arranged with his chum a set of signals by means of which they might communicate with each other even while both were unseen.
"It's getting darker all the while, I do believe. Sure you know where to find that sharpie?" remarked Jerry as he saw his comrade beginning to make a move.
"I located her by some palmetto trees that stand up high above all others on the key there. Unless they've changed their anchorage, which is unlikely, as we would have heard the noise, I can go straight to the spot," replied Frank confidently.
"Taking your gun along, of course?"
"I think it wise. Those are tough fellows, and there's no telling what might happen. Better be on the safe side," remarked the other sagely.