moment's notice. Both skiffs came over noiselessly from the _Reindeer_.
Red Nelson had given one of his two men to French Pete, so that each
skiff was doubly manned. They were not a very prepossessing group of
men,--at least, Joe did not think so,--for their faces bore a savage
seriousness which almost made him shiver. The captain of the _Dazzler_
buckled on his pistol-belt, and placed a rifle and a stout double-block
tackle in the boat. Then he poured out wine all around, and, standing in
the darkness of the little cabin, they pledged success to the expedition.
Red Nelson was also armed, while his men wore at their hips the customary
sailor's sheath-knife. They were very slow and careful to avoid noise
in getting into the boats, French Pete pausing long enough to warn the
boys to remain quietly aboard and not try any tricks.

"Now 'd be your chance, Joe, if they had n't taken the skiff," 'Frisco Kid
whispered, when the boats had vanished into the loom of the land.

"What 's the matter with the _Dazzler_?" was the unexpected answer. "We
could up sail and away before you could say Jack Robinson."

'Frisco Kid hesitated. The spirit of comradeship was strong in the lad,
and deserting a companion in a pinch could not but be repulsive to him.

"I don't think it 'd be exactly square to leave them in the lurch ashore,"
he said. "Of course," he went on hurriedly, "I know the whole thing 's
wrong; but you remember that first night, when you came running through
the water for the skiff, and those fellows on the bank busy popping away?
We did n't leave you in the lurch, did we?"

Joe assented reluctantly, and then a new thought flashed across his mind.
"But they 're pirates--and thieves--and criminals. They 're breaking the
law, and you and I are not willing to be lawbreakers. Besides, they 'll
not be left. There 's the _Reindeer_. There 's nothing to prevent them
from getting away on her, and they 'll never catch us in the dark."

"Come on, then." Though he had agreed, 'Frisco Kid did not quite like it,
for it still seemed to savor of desertion.

They crawled forward and began to hoist the mainsail. The anchor they
could slip, if necessary, and save the time of pulling it up. But at the
first rattle of the halyards on the sheaves a warning "Hist!" came to
them through the darkness, followed by a loudly whispered "Drop that!"

Glancing in the direction from which these sounds proceeded, they made
out a white face peering at