As he works his way to the shore he watches the sloop furtively, to be sure that his action has not awakened any suspicion on the part of the men in her; but he knows there is little danger of this, for though he recognizes them, they are not likely to think that he, who is at work so innocently there by that fish-trap, is the other owner of the boat, and has already divined their purpose.
Not too fast, so as not to specially attract their attention, he goes along the leader, stopping just an instant now and then in mere pretense to adjust the netting. But the moment their tack has taken the sloop so far across the bay that his movements cannot be readily discerned, he suddenly becomes the very embodiment of activity and purpose.
Two or three vigorous pulls send the yawl inshore, where it is promptly secured beyond the reach of a rising tide, for Judd has no idea just when he will come to claim it again. Even the fish are forgotten as the boy runs rapidly up the west slope of the island to the nearest farm-house; and he gives a cry of joy, as he reaches it, to find the farmer, with whom he is slightly acquainted, just driving his horse and wagon out of the yard.
"Are you going down to Jamestown Ferry, Mr. Niles?" he eagerly asks.
"Yes, jump in," replies the kind-hearted farmer.
Judd waits for no second invitation, but springing into the wagon, he points off to the west bay, saying:
"Do you see that sloop over under the west shore, Mr. Niles?"
"Yes," replies he, "and it looks like yours."
"It is; and a gang of fellows are running off with her, and I wish you would get me to the ferry about as quick as you can. I want to get over to Newport, hire a tug, and head them off before they reach Beaver Tail, if possible. I'll pay you whatever you ask for driving me down there," was Judd's surprising statement.
The interest of the farmer was at once awakened.