Meanwhile, Mr. Neale had reached Nelse’s place and been greeted by Pomp’ who assured him that he was welcome to wait until Mars’ Nelse came back with his canoe—having gone “off yonder,” Pomp’ said with a vague wave of his hand toward the Sound.
Waiting on the rude little dock, Mr. Neale caught sight of the Treasure Belle standing away for an opening into bigger water.
It astonished him and rendered him helpless to act! He knew that he could not hope to overtake her with his dinghy, and Pomp’ assured him that there was no faster boat within reach.
“I ’spect dat black man f’om Jamaica done got de skeer under his wool and run off wif de white chill’un,” he observed.
“No—he’s gone alone,” Mr. Neale stated. “I left the boys on the shore by the inlet.”
He leaped in to the dinghy and began to row down the shore line; it was no time to wait for Nelse. He must see whether the boys were where he had left them or if they had managed to return, by swimming, before Sam got the boat under headway.
He was forced to conclude that they were either voluntarily going with Sam or that they were under some compulsion on the sloop.
Certainly they were not on the shore!
He beached the dinghy and sat in it, considering. Where were his charges? Why had they let Sam get away if they had reached the sloop?
As a matter of fact, the chums were having an adventure they had not counted on.