Great masses of vapor, through which the moon shone faintly, were slowly passing across the sky, but Bob kept his glass leveled toward the horizon.
"I'll bet it's not either the 'Nimrod' or 'Rambler,'" observed Nat, a moment later.
"Oh, don't have such dreadful thoughts. You make me nervous," expostulated young Talbot.
"It seems an awful long time since we first heard the sound," complained Ted Pollock. "If it's the 'Ram—'"
"I see the boat, boys," broke in Bob, energetically.
Dick Travers seized the glass, which Somers extended toward him, quickly raised it to his eyes and took a long, earnest look.
"Both boats," he announced, joyfully. "One is towing the other."
Greatly excited, the Ramblers and Nimrods crowded to the very edge of the water, where they awaited, with much impatience, the approach of the two craft.
"Ahoy, ahoy!" shouted a familiar voice, through a megaphone. "Ahoy, pirates and brigands, is that you?"
"Dave Brandon," cried Bob Somers, joyously. "Hurrah! Three cheers for Chubby!"