“Listen—What’s that?”
Voices and subdued noises took the boys to the deck at once, where they carefully shut the cabin slide to keep the light from showing while they peered across the water of the cove. There in the darkness a low boat of some kind appeared to have anchored, and men were moving about on it, for their footsteps on deck could be heard, and there were occasional flickerings of light as if a lantern were in use.
“Thank goodness for one thing, Stan, I don’t think we’ve been discovered, yet; do you?”
“No. What’s going on over there?”
“Shades of the Caspian Sea and blessings on thee little man, I wish I knew! Hear that low, throbbing sound, like a pump working?”
“Probably a salvaging job; but why at night, John?”
“Dear me, Oswald, old bean!” laughed John, “Why ask me? Your guess is as good as mine.”
The noises of whatever operation was under way continued for hours, and Stan went down to his bunk to sleep while John stood first watch. A low whistle was to be the signal for the G-man’s son to hurry to the deck should any attack or disturbance occur.
For a long while John sat huddled in the corner of the cockpit, thankful for the sweater he had slipped on, for summer was well advanced and the night cool. His bow and arrows were handy, and he watched what little could be seen of the strange things taking place across the water. He could be sure of nothing, and towards the latter part of his watch gave up guessing. Probably the men were salvaging the sunken ship if such the cove contained. Overhead the bright stars twinkled, and alongshore in the darkness the leaves switched in the breeze. John Tallman was not sorry when his radium-dialed watch showed midnight.
Sleepy-eyed, dog-tired, in spite of the excitement of wondering what the later hours might bring, the youth went below to wake Stan. He found that worthy half-awake, for the sandy-haired skipper of the Water Witch had slept poorly.