"Washee-washee!" Keith ordered. "Go plenty quiet!"
With as little sound as possible they made off, but they did not get far unobserved. Just as Moniz gave the order for his spare anchor to be dropped over, his eyes fell on the boat. Up to that moment he had attributed the parting of the cable to a flaw, but now he realized that it had been cut.
With an oath Moniz reached for a rifle, and half a dozen shots flew in the direction of the whale-boat. He could not hope to make a hit in the half-darkness, but it relieved his feelings somewhat to pump lead after the retreating enemy.
"Washee-washee!" Keith cried again, and the whale-boat shot over the dark waters at racing speed until it was out of range.
"That brute has the devil's own luck," he said after a few minutes. "Number two trick goes to him. Never mind. It may be our turn next. Sorry to have kept you out of bed for nothing, Miss Trent."
In spite of their nocturnal adventure, however, neither of them slept late next morning, for they expected Chester Trent to return soon after dawn; and with his return would come the prospect of a battle royal for the reef. But there was no sign of the ketch, and Moniz was making figurative hay while the sun shone. They were still waiting when nightfall came. Keith had kept an eye on
