“Wait,” advised Toby. “I’m certain one of them has a pistol, and for all we know may be drawing a bead on us from those bushes. I tell you what, Arn. Start her up and we’ll try to keep their launch between us and them as we go in. But wait another minute.”
“Shall we search the launch here or take her further out?” asked Arnold.
“Get a line to her and tow her back with us, of course,” was the reply. “She’s contraband of war, or whatever you call it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d stolen her somewhere, anyway. Have you got a spare rope handy?”
“No, but we can use our painter.”
“All right. She may have one; she probably has. If not, we’ll use the Frolic’s. Do you suppose they’ve gone?”
“Of course! They were frightened to death.” Arnold laughed softly. “I must have sounded pretty fierce!”
“You did! You sounded as if you were about six feet tall and weighed 200 pounds! Well, I suppose we might as well take a chance. If they’re still there, they’ll probably stay, and there’s no use trying to tire them out. All right. Start her easy. Here we go. Keep out of sight until we get to the launch, and then I’ll grab her.”
“Better let me,” said Arnold. “You keep the wheel.”
“All right, then; you grab her, and I’ll look for her painter.”