Jerry did not insist.  He realized that what Frank said was the truth, for he had had experience with that same cranky little craft when a second party occupied a place in it.

They sat and talked in low tones for half an hour.  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.

“I located her by some palmetto trees that stand up high above all others on the key there.  Unless they’ve changed their anchorage, which is unlikely, as we would have heard the noise, I can go straight to the spot,” replied Frank confidently.

“Taking your gun along, of course?”

“I think it wise.  Those are tough fellows, and there’s no telling what might happen.  Better be on the safe side,” remarked the other sagely.

“Well, I’m going to keep my rifle close by, I tell you.  And Bluff has his Gatling gun on the hooks, where he can get hold of it in a hurry.  But I hope we don’t have any need of them,” continued Jerry as he assisted Frank to climb over into the little dinghy astern, where the light of the lantern did not penetrate.

“Be careful how you shoot, at any time, and listen for my signal.  I’d hate to be peppered with shot, or get a bullet in my shoulder from my chums.”

“Oh, you can depend on me to keep a sharp lookout; and no danger of any accident like that.  I never act on impulse, like Bluff.  Good-by, and good luck, Frank!”

The dinghy dropped astern with the flowing tide, and was immediately swallowed up in the gloom, which, as Jerry truly said, seemed more dense than ever as the clouds gathered overhead and shut out even the light of the stars.

Frank took up the paddle and set to work.  He was by this time something of an adept in the use of a spruce blade, as most canoeists become in time.  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.

Presently he could see the tops of its tall masts against the dark sky; but only for the fact that he was looking for this, it would have passed unnoticed.

There was not a light about the boat.  Listening, Frank could hear no sound at first, but as he drew silently nearer he fancied he caught what seemed to be an occasional deep sigh.  Then, as his eyes sought the outlines of the little gulf vessel he detected what seemed to be a bowed figure at the stern.

It was from this point that the sighs seemed to come, and he fancied that the huddled-up object must be the figure of a boy, placed on watch while the three big hulking men slept in the cabin near by.