"I never took much stock in clairvoyants," demurred Matt.
"Well, anyhow, there's the chest. In some manner it's got away from Townsend."
"Exactly," said Matt, throwing aside the uncanny feeling that had come over him. "No matter how we happened to make this queer find, nor how little we understand the manner in which we made it, our duty is clear. We've got to recover the chest, find Townsend, and turn it over to him."
"Stand by, then, to go aboard the skiff," called Dick. "Port your helm, Matt. I'll do the conning for you."
"Keep away!" shouted Carl. "Don'd go near dot poat und don'd fool mit dot safe. It's pad meticine! Eferyt'ing iss pad meticine vat has anyt'ing to do mit dot olt laty. Ach, blitzen, I vish ve hatn't seen dot poat!"
But Matt and Dick knew what their duty was and paid little heed to Carl's protests.
Guided by Dick, Matt brought the Hawk within a dozen feet of the boat, cut off the power, and the air ship hovered in the air, motionless save for the slight influence of the wind. Dick tossed a rope over the side. Matt, leaving his seat among the levers, prepared to get over the rail and lower himself into the boat.
"Hadn't I better go, matey?" queried Dick. "I'm used to sliding up and down ropes and backstays."
"You and Carl stay here and make ready to hoist the safe aboard," replied Matt. "I'm a pretty fair hand at rope climbing."
Probably none of the boys thought, at that moment, how closely they were copying the smoke pictures shown Matt and Carl by Yamousa. That smoke scene seemed to have depicted the event with the sureness of fate.