Meanwhile, a hand on the stern thwart, Cliff was thrusting with his feet, swimming, and pushing the boat ahead at a slow rate.
They finally reached the distant island and found the oars.
“Had we better stay here till daylight?” questioned Cliff.
“No,” Nicky declared. “They have our gold, and they mustn’t get away. They have a heavy load and they may get stuck in the channel for their greediness. We can see the papers they stuck on sticks to mark the channel. Let’s get on as far as we can.”
Tom agreed with him, not especially caring to stay amid the spooky, silent islets all night.
They had hard work in the swiftly closing darkness, but by using their eyes sharply and by going ahead slowly, as their escaping enemies must also do, they finally saw clear water ahead.
“Hooray!” cried Nicky. “I think I see them still in the rowboat! Pull hard, Cliff and Tom, we can get there before they get away!”
But as he said it there came a hail, sharp and eager from the shore of the island at the mouth of the channel.
“Help! Help!”
Tom and Cliff held their oars, surprised, listening.