ther about
him, the young Ranger's misgivings would have been replaced by
certainties of a very disquieting character. The speaker was saying:

"You see, mates, I suspicioned that some of the kids we heard of as
camping out on this island might still be here, so I just strolled up to
have a look. Sure enough, I found them, or, rather, another lot, I take
it, who are waiting here for some craft to come along and take them off.
They are green as grass, though, and I pumped them dry in a hurry. As
quick as I found that they are as anxious to get away from here as we
are to have 'em, I faked up a yarn about having just bought the island,
and being in a hurry to get back to Newport in my yacht for supplies.
They claim to be first-class sailors, though, between you and me, I
don't believe they know enough to navigate a scow at anchor. It gave me
a lead, though, and so I invited them to help me sail the yacht over to
Newport, while my crew--you fellows, you understand--staid behind to
begin building operations. They jumped at the chance, and will be down
in a minute with their plunder. So we want to be ready for them, and set
'em aboard at once without giving them a chance to examine any of this
stuff." Here the speaker pointed to a miscellaneous pile of boxes,
barrels, and bales, with which the other men had been busy.

"I'll sail far enough with them to get 'em well started," he continued,
"and then give 'em the slip some way, and I don't believe they'll know
enough to get back again, even if they want to. So we'll get rid of
them, and the yacht, too, before the schooner comes, as well as throw
any craft that's hunting us off our track, till we've had plenty of time
to get clear, for they're certain to sight the yacht and follow her. Oh,
it's a fine graft, and we want to work it for all it's worth! So,
Scotty, you take the yawl up to the far end of the beach, and I'll take
the gig, while you other fellows lie low till we are off."

The plan thus arranged was carried out to the letter, and ten minutes
later the Sea Rangers found themselves once more afloat in a natty
schooner-yacht, evidently brand new, with Mr. Bangwell at the wheel, and
the gig towing astern, while the second boat was being rowed back to the
beach by an evil-looking man, who answered to the name of "Scotty."

In his haste to be off, Mr. Bangwell had not waited to get up the
anchor, but had slipped the cable, saying that he could pick it up on
his return.