"It looks like our only chance. You'll have to go easy. If Chet and Biff are held prisoners on that ship they'll be well guarded. You might be captured yourself."
"That's where you will come in. If you hear sounds of a struggle or if I don't come back, go right into the harbor and notify the police so they can have the schooner searched."
Joe nodded. "All right. I'll keep watch."
Frank steered the motorboat back along the coast again and for the next hour or more they cruised about, waiting for twilight. At length sunset came and gradually the shadows fell. Lights began to twinkle in the town. Lights glowed from the mysterious schooner, now but a rakish shadow at the entrance to the harbor. When the lads judged that it was sufficiently dark to cover their approach, they returned, then crept quietly up on the ship.
They drew up close to the schooner's stern without being noticed and to Frank's relief he saw that a rope was dangling over the side. From the boat he reached out and seized it. The rope held fast; it supported his weight.
There were vague sounds from the deck above. The shuffling of feet. A burst of laughter from forward. Most of the men, he judged, would be in port, but it behooved him to move with caution.
"All set," he whispered to Joe.
