A moment later Whistler showed himself. He likewise surveyed the camp of the castaways. After that he and Jurgens talked together, but their voices were pitched in too low a key to carry to the ridge.
At last Jurgens and Whistler gave over their talk. Jurgens began climbing down a ladder over the forward end of the boat, and Whistler got out of the tower and pushed after him.
The bow of the Grampus had grounded on the bottom. Jurgens, stepping from the ladder in water waist-deep, began wading ashore. Once on the beach, he waited for Whistler to join him.
"They're going to investigate our camp," whispered Matt.
"Oof dey come near enough to investigate us," returned Carl, "den, py shinks, ve vill put dem bot' oudt oof pitzness."
"Why not lay them by the heels, matey?" queried Dick, excitedly. "There are three of us and only two of them, and we've got a couple of guns. We could do it easy."
"It's their move," answered Matt, "and if we could make a countermove that would help us get hold of the Grampus, we would not only do a good stroke of work for Townsend, but for ourselves, into the bargain. The Grampus could take us away from here—to Turtle Island, if we wanted to go there—and then to Palm Beach."
As Matt went over the possibilities that followed in the wake of a successful attack on the Grampus, his brain fired with a resolve to carry out a countermove, even if he and his chums had to take some risks in order to do it.
"Jurgens is going into the tent," whispered Dick, "and Whistler is moving in the direction of the Hawk. He's not able to recognize the air ship, taken to pieces as she is."
"Right here's our chance," murmured Matt. "Follow me, both of you, and come quietly. Dick, you take this revolver. No noise, now, for everything depends upon the care we exercise in making this part of our countermove."