When they were directly in line with the windmill, as near to the
shore as to the ship, and nearer the shore than we had ever allowed
them before, they grew suspicious. We followed them through the
glasses, and saw them standing up in the skiff and trying to find
out what we were doing. The spy fisherman, sitting beside us on
the stringer-piece was likewise puzzled. He could not understand
our inactivity. The men in the skiff rowed nearer the shore, but
stood up again and scanned it, as if they thought we might be in
hiding there. But a man came out on the beach and waved a
handkerchief to indicate that the coast was clear. That settled
them. They bent to the oars to make a dash for it. Still Charley
waited. Not until they had covered three-quarters of the distance
from the Lancashire Queen, which left them hardly more than a
quarter of a mile to gain the shore, did Charley slap me on the
shoulder and cry:
"They're ours! They're ours!"
We ran the few steps to the side of the Streak and jumped aboard.
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