ll of their yacht. The belief gave them renewed courage. Even
Hank no longer had any desire to turn back. His whole thought centered
on the lively times that were likely to begin when they tried to
regain control of their boat from whomever had stolen it.

Then, bit by bit the trio worked their log buoy into the cove. Once
they were inside, the water was very much smoother. Resting a few
moments for breath, they then made a last dash forward, to get
alongside.

In this smoother, more shallow water, the "Restless" rode securely at
anchor. As they swam closer, the boys found that they could discover
no human presence on the decks. Had the boat-stealers gone ashore on
the nameless island? If so, it would be a comparatively easy matter to
get aboard and cut out of the cove with their own craft.

Close up alongside they went. Tom Halstead was the first to be able to
reach up at the hull and draw himself up over the side. Then, with his
pocket-knife, as he lay at the rail of the "Restless," the young
skipper slashed the cord that still held him bound to the log.
Reaching over, he passed the knife to Hank. In utter silence the Long
Island boy cut the clubs free, and passed them up. Next Hank drew
himself aboard, after passing the jackknife to Joe Dawson.

Just a little later all three of the Motor Boat Club boys found
themselves standing on the deck, each grasping his own firewood
weapon. They made no noise, for they knew not who, or how many others
might be on board below. If they had a desperate gang of thieves to
contend with, then their troubles had not yet even begun!

Joe and Hank stood where they were, shaking as though in the last
ditch of ague, while Halstead went forward, with the soft tread of a
cat, to peer down into the motor room, the hatchway of which stood
open.

"Wonder if there's anyone down there, asleep, or playing possum?"
thought the young skipper as he peered into the blackness and
listened. No sound of any kind came up to him. At last, a short step
at a time, Halstead descended into the motor room, groping cautiously
about. Finally, he became confident enough to feel in the galley
match-box, extract a match and light it. The tiny flame showed him
that the motor room was empty of human presence other than his own.

"No one down forward," he reported, in a shaking whisper, when he
rejoined his chilled companions on deck.

"I believe there are plenty of folks in the cabin, though," reported
Joe.