It was not so large a valise as the other, but it seemed as heavy. It was just the thing to keep a life-preserver under in deep water, and to let a strong current drag it along into shallows.
"Don't open it till you get ashore," suggested Kroom. "I'm heading the boat for the inlet. Cast off the float."
Pickering had already done that; but as the Elephant bowed her head and swung away, the life-preserver, although robbed of its precious drag, seemed to be following her.
"Pete," said Sam, "look! I can see those fellows."
"They've come over the bar to watch what we're doing," growled Kroom. "Pickering, now's our time to run through into the bay. I've an idea in my head. Can't you hide those things?"
Off came Pickering's coat, and down it went over the two valises, side by side. Next to them lay the handsome shapes of the bass and the two bluefish, and one more was added to these by Sam himself before they had sailed a hundred yards.
Only four fish, but they made a pretty good appearance. At all events, there was not a sign of recaptured wreckage on board the Elephant. Her crew and passengers could not hear the wreckers saying to each other: "Kroom's giving it up. He's off for home. We can go back now."
"Boys," it was the steersman, after a long squint through his glass, "I can see our float! She's coming. Let's go for the boat. Now's our time."
Perhaps so; but they had lost a great deal of time, and the Elephant was already in the inlet, running well, when they started back.
"Wish there was more wind," said Pickering, impatiently. "Their boat's over there somewhere."