They were glad enough to get to sleep till early morning. Before daybreak, however, they were up and under way for Zenith Village. They kept rather clear of Porpoise Island en route, for the fog had lifted way past there and Zenith Light was visible down the coast. They did not want to run into any cruising gray speedboats just yet!
Daybreak had come and the sun was rising higher and warmer when they laid the final tack for Zenith Point Light. They rounded the light and went on to the Village pier at once.
At the village they located just the type of tender they desired in a local boat yard, bought it for a price, and towed her out to the anchorage. That morning, at their anchorage, they caught up on much needed sleep and were not up and about again till late afternoon.
There were several yachts in the harbor as usual but none that they recognized. It proved difficult to kill time during the next couple of days but they had to do so if they were to follow their plans. Between reading below decks or lolling in the sunshine, well down in the cockpit, and burning the night oil over charts and plans, they managed to watch the hours pass by. Once or twice John hinted at fishing but they dared not risk it on the chance that one of Nevada’s boats might come up to inspect them. Ashore or in the sloop they could duck from sight in such an event, but the little rowboat would hardly serve as a hiding place!
Monday morning was to be the beginning of big things again and it started with a bang!
“Whoops!” cried John as he emerged from the cabin into a cool morning. “Look who’s here—our old playmate!”
The Sea Hawk had come in during the night and was anchored across the harbor. And Stan blinked his eyes—for the familiar outlines of the yacht enclosed a black hull this time!
“Somebody else playing at disguise, John!”
“Yeh, the copy-cats! As if you wouldn’t know that craft anywhere by the shape of her hull and upper structure!”
“But you can’t see black as far at night as you can white,” Stan pointed out.