Ferral laughed. The idea of Carl mistaking what was going on and trying to save a girl from pirates, there in that fashionable resort, was too much for him. Temporarily he lost sight of the graver aspects of the affair. Even Matt grinned at the spectacle the Dutch boy, in his bathing suit, must have made, battling with pirates to save a girl who did not want to be saved.
"This thing has got a mighty serious side to it, Dick," said Matt, suddenly sobering. "I haven't the least notion what that paper was that Jurgens grabbed, but it must have been an important document. And Townsend lost it while trying to help Carl and me. That puts it up to us, Dick, to help him get it back."
"Right-o!" returned Ferral. "There's a boat putting off from the Heinz pier. McMillan's in it and two men are breaking their backs at the oars. They'll get this Jurgens swab, if I'm any prophet. They're going about two fathoms to Jurgens' one."
"How's Jurgens heading?"
"For the open sea. He's struck rough water just over the bar from the Inlet, and his boat's on end about half the time. If one of those combers hits him broadside on, he'll go to the sharks, paper and all."
"What's his notion for heading out into the ocean, I wonder?"
"Strike me lucky!" exclaimed Ferral. "Why, he's making for a sailboat, and the craft is laying to to take him aboard."
"What's the name of the boat? Can you make it out?"
The sun was down and shadows were settling over the water. Enough light remained, though, for the sharp eyes of Ferral to read the name on the sailboat's stern.
"She's the Crescent," he announced, "and one of the boats that berth in the Inlet. There! Listen to that!"