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Frank made all his plans, and arranged with his chum a set of signals by means of which they might communicate with each other even while both were unseen. "It's getting darker all the while, I do believe. Sure you know where to find that sharpie?" remarked Jerry as he saw his comrade beginning to make a move.
From the fact that these suggestive noises were partly muffled, he believed they came from inside the sharpie's cabin. Foot by foot Frank found himself nearing the stern of the sharpie. He did not need to use the paddle at all, for the current was gently wafting him along in just the direction he wished to go.
Suppose you tell us, in a whisper now, what brought you aboard that sharpie. Who are those three men, and how did you happen to be sailing with them?" "They're Hank, and Carlos, the Cuban, and my Uncle Ben," came the reply. "Hello! He's got an uncle aboard!" said Jerry uneasily. "But he's the worst of the whole lot. He beats me, and calls me bad names. My mother is afraid of him.
See that their luggage is carried up to the top of that hill. In the creek beyond that hill is an old darky who will take them in his little sharpie by way of a back river to Savannah." And so I was to have a few more minutes with her. At the gangway he took my hand and held it while he said, "You're weak yet don't hurry. Those two frigates won't follow us in here."
He did not care to go too near that sharpie, for the recollection of the three rough spongers or fishermen on board deterred him from wanting to renew their acquaintance. Bluff immediately bailed out the little dinghy, and set himself to the task of hunting along the shore for oysters. They saw him dipping his arm down again and again, which would indicate that his quest was proving successful.
One of the men had fired in the direction he believed the passing boat to be lying. The bullet splashed in the water, and seemed to go humming over the surface of the lagoon. Then a shout came from the sharpie: "I seen 'em then! Hey! You thar! Come back with that kid, or it'll be the worse for ye! D'ye hear?"
That is, he could propel a boat silently, not a swirl or a dripping blade betraying the labor that sent it on. Guides in the Maine woods had taught Frank how to approach a deer at night time on a lake without hardly rippling the water. In this wise he approached the spot where he knew he would find the mysterious sharpie anchored.
"Do you think they'll attack us, Joe?" asked Jerry as the sharpie began to head straight for the anchored motor-boat. "No, I don't. Them fellers is big cowards, and when they see the guns they'll take it out in talking," came the prompt answer. "I believe Joe is right. They must be cowards, or they'd never have abused a boy as they did him.
The boat had moved a length or so, and then floated on the smooth water of the lagoon. A shout from the sharpie had told that the spongers believed they meant to run off, and at the same time one of them was seen flourishing a gun. "Hold up, there, you rascals, you!" came across the water, and a shot followed, the bullet splashing close to the motor-boat.
"I bet Frank's thinking of those three blooming pirates who wanted to smash us out on the big water," declared Bluff quickly. "I confess they were in my mind; but, so far, they've paid no attention to us, and we're a quarter of a mile away from that sharpie. Don't bother your head about them, Will. Of course, we'll keep a watch, as usual, though." "You just make up your mind we will, now.
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