His whole body became tense and rigid while the hairs on his back
rose on end. A low, menacing growl issued in subdued notes from his
throat. His attitude was threatening.
"Watch the dog," whispered Jack. "Look at him."
"Someone's coming," announced Arnold. "He does that only when he gets
near someone who's a sneak or pirate or something."
"Goodness, I'm glad I'm not a pirate," declared Harrison.
"Get a leash on him," ordered Jack. "He's been shot once tonight and
that's enough. Get your guns unlimbered, boys."
"I'll keep a lookout on the water," volunteered Frank.
"And I'll watch the wharf," said Tom. "I wish, though," he continued,
"that the lights were off. I could see better."
"Turn the switch, Charley," was Jack's request. "It's at your hand there
on the bulkhead. It's the middle one."
"I see him," whispered Tom. "It looks like Wyckoff."
"Slide the door open a crack," Harry suggested, "and get the drop on
him. If he starts anything, shoot him in the legs!"
"He's laying down a bundle," whispered Charley. "It's only a small
package. I wonder what he's going to do."
For answer, Wyckoff, for it was none other, deposited the small package
described by the boy on the bow of the Fortuna. He knelt on the wharf a
moment leaning over toward the boat. The boys were unable to see him
well because of the curving lines of the vessel.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Charley, starting from his post toward the
bows. "He lit a fuse and has started away!"
"Come back from there," cried Jack in a tone of authority.
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