means just so much off the other end. Granted
we reach the mainland all right, we'll have to hustle to slip those
Chinks under cover before daylight. You'd better round 'em up in that
fish-house, so none of 'em'll stray away and keep us from starting the
second the sloop's ready. We've got to make sure there's plenty of gas
aboard, as well as a compass and chart. I'll see if I can scare up a
couple of lanterns."

The two separated, Dolph evidently going to look after the Chinese,
while Brittler kept on toward the cabin. Percy stood stock-still, his
heart thumping. Would the captain discover his absence?

"How's everything here, boys?" hailed Brittler.

"All quiet," replied one of the sentries.

"Come inside with me, Herb, so these fellows won't try any funny
business."

The door opened. Percy felt a thrill of fear. How could they fail to
notice there were only four prisoners in the camp?

But their captors evidently had not the least suspicion that he had
escaped. Probably they thought he was lying in one of the bunks. He
could hear the voices of Brittler and Jim, the one questioning, angry,
and menacing, the other tantalizingly deliberate as he grudgingly gave
the information demanded. Percy delayed no longer. He had his own work
to do, and it demanded all his energy.

Down he stole to the water's edge, then followed it west until he
reached a sloping rock. The _Barracouta_, he knew, was moored not fifty
feet out in the black fog.

Without hesitating a second Percy waded in, and soon was swimming
quietly toward the sloop. He had not dared to take one of the boats, for
fear the grating of her keel on the beach or the sound of her oars might
betray him. He cleft the water noiselessly, and it was not long before
he grasped the _Barracouta's_ bobstay and hoisted himself aboard.

Dropping down the companionway, he groped forward through the cabin to
the little door leading into the bow, and crept in on hands and knees.
His fingers found what he wanted, an opening between two planks, where a
leak had been freshly calked with oakum. He dug this out with his
knife-point, and the water began spurting in.

Backing out and closing the door, he found a wrench in the tool-box and
began fumbling about the engine. Soon the spark-plugs were unscrewed and
in his pocket.

"And there's a good job done!" he thought, triumphantly. "Guess that
gang of blacklegs won't get very far in the _Barracouta_ to-night!"

Voices on the