only one man. He is pottering about near the cabin."

"The other is aboard somewhere. And you noticed that dog? If he puts up
a fight, too, I've an idea that he will be worse than either of the
men."

The progress of the little raft was tantalizingly slow, but it moved
steadily, and after the sun had set and while the darkness was gathering
on that great expanse of water, it swung close in under the stern of the
sloop. Not a sound was heard aboard of her as she lazily lifted and
rolled on the heaving swell.

Frank took his shoes in one hand, but thought it not well to burden
himself with the extra coat.

"Now!" he whispered. "Let the raft go. We can cut that boat loose if we
have to trust to the sea again. Follow me!"

Then he slipped silently into the sea, Hodge imitating his example.
Softly swimming round to the bow, Frank got hold of a chain that ran
down from the bowsprit.

"Here," he softly whispered. "Lay hold of this, and come right up after
me."

"I'll be there!" Hodge whispered back.

Then, hampered by the shoes, Merry climbed slowly aboard, and Bart swung
up after him. Together they dropped to the deck, and crouched low, with
the water running in rivulets from their clothing.

Frank felt softly about, and his hands fell on a club-like maul which
fishermen use for stunning the large fish they catch. There was nothing
else near in the shape of a weapon. He passed the maul to Bart, and
clutched one of the shoes as a club in his right hand.

"Good luck!" he softly whispered. "How are you?"

Hodge was chilled to the bone, and his teeth were fairly chattering.

"I'm all right. A bit chilly, but I guess things will be warm enough for
me in a few minutes. I'm ready. Go on!"

A dark form was standing beside the cuddy. But for his certainty that
the men were deaf, or nearly so, Merriwell would not have indulged in
even this whispered conversation. He crept now toward this man, with
Hodge crawling at his heels, and when near enough, leaped on the man
with a sudden and disconcerting pounce.

Though the surprise must have been great, the man, who was large and
strong, wheeled round to resist the attack, and the large dog, which had
before been seen, sprang up from the deck and flew at Merriwell's
throat. The ready club in the hands of Bart Hodge tumbled the dog over
with a howl, and Merry and the big fisherman began to struggle in the
growing darkness for the mastery.

To and fro on the deck they reeled