. Before midnight, the westerly breeze had died absolutely down, and
in a not very long time, the sea followed suit, leaving a long swell and
the rowing became much easier. Nothing occurred to break the monotony
for a while. There was the steady grinding of the oars in the row-locks
and the lapping of the waves in the gloom, for the moon was now obscured
by clouds. Then, of a sudden, the Indian called a halt.

"Do you hear footsteps?" inquired Jim, jocosely.

"A steamer coming, I hear her, no lights. Pull hard." In a minute, even
the boys could hear the beat of her engines and saw the occasional flare
from her stacks, then a dark form took shape through the night. They
pulled lustily for they knew their danger and who it was. How quickly
they would be run down, if discovered, and left to drown in the wide
strait, when Captain Broom found out their identity. No wonder they
pulled.

"Stop now, draw in your oars. Lie down," warned the Indian.

Not a hundred yards to the Eastward came The Sea Eagle and she was on an
even line with the boat that lay a black patch on the dark water. If
Captain Broom was not on the Bridge they would be safe.

"Boat ahoy," boomed out his voice.

"Indian fishermen," cried Yaquis. "Stop, take me ashore."

With a growl, the Captain sent his ship ahead, paying no attention to
the "Indian fisherman" in distress. There was a gleam of white teeth as
the Indian smiled at the hearty congratulations of the boys and their
glee at his stratagem. Then the Spaniard and Yaquis took the oars while
Jim steered and Jo slept.

CHAPTER XXXI

CONCLUSION

When morning came, they were but a few miles from the Northern end of
the longer Island and the fog was over the whole sky. The sea was glassy
with a sullen glaze. Nowhere was there sign of any steamer or ship. The
Sea Eagle had made good her escape.

"I wish we had a stiff breeze to help us along," said the Spaniard, who
loved not manual labor, as did the boys.

"It will come, the strong breeze, soon," said the Indian.

"When we make the Island, what are we to do?" asked Jo.

"Who can tell, maybe Tom and Juarez have been taken along with the
Skipper, instead of being marooned."

"That's so," replied Jo, and gloom settled down upon his spirits,
heavier than the fog upon the sea.

"We will keep after them," said the never despondent Jim, "even if we
have to chase them around the world."

The boat seemed to crawl so slowly along, and the