ting at the thought
that it might well have happened. Bending toward his comrade, he
whispered his fears. His voice trembled as he spoke. Roy uttered a
low exclamation of dismay. Then there was silence again, and the four
sat listening with strained attention--listening for what they feared
they would never hear.

And then they heard it. From far down the Sound came the reports of a
rapidly beating marine motor. At first the noise was so faint as
scarcely to be audible, like the dropping of a pin on a bare floor.
Then the fog seemed to magnify the sound and it became suddenly louder.
Then it died away again, but it was more distinct than it had been at
first. A minute passed. Noticeably the sound grew in volume. Another
minute passed. Distinct now was every beat of the motor. With lips
parted, heads slightly turned, and eyes peering through the dark, the
watchers waited with beating pulses as the sound came on. There could
be no doubt it was made by a fast craft. And there could be no doubt
that the boat was rushing northward close to the shore. Was it the
boat they waited for? Would it turn at the harbor entrance? Or would
it go tearing onward, leaving them in despair?

Now it was almost abreast of the harbor's mouth. Another minute, a few
seconds, would tell the story. And not one of the watchers breathed as
they hung on the sound. On and on it came, until the scouts knew that
it was directly abreast of the channel. Would it turn? Would it enter
the harbor? Or would it rush straight by? Unable longer to control
himself, Roy stretched out his hand and gripped Henry's shoulder. And
Henry, like himself, was all atremble. The secret service men stirred
nervously. But nobody said a word.

Then the passage of the sound seemed to end. It was no longer rushing
by. It seemed stationary. But momentarily it grew in volume. It was
coming straight toward the watchers. The boat had entered the harbor.
A sigh of relief escaped every lip.

"Up with your anchor," whispered the pilot, "before he shuts off his
power."

His companion leaned stealthily over the side and rapidly paid in the
rope, lifting the light anchor over the gunwale and cautiously stowing
it in the bottom. And he was none too soon. Hardly was the anchor
aboard before the roaring sound ceased and the oncoming boat approached
with lessened speed. But the scouts' boat rode free, ready for instant
work.

"Down with you," whispere