Was not this my opportunity? Should I leap on board and there
await the return of the two men?
"Mr. Strock!" It was Wells, who called to me softly from close at
hand.
I drew back in all haste and crouched down beside him. Was it too
late to take possession of the boat? Or would the attempt perhaps
result in disaster from the presence of others watching on board?
At any rate, the two men with the lantern were close at hand
returning down the ravine. Plainly they suspected nothing. Each
carrying a bundle of wood, they came forward and stopped upon the
quay.
Then one of them raised his voice, though not loudly. "Hullo!
Captain!"
"All right," answered a voice from the boat.
Wells murmured in my ear, "There are three!"
"Perhaps four," I answered, "perhaps five or six!"
The situation grew more complicated. Against a crew so numerous, what
ought we to do? The least imprudence might cost us dear! Now that the
two men had returned, would they re-embark with their faggots? Then
would the boat leave the creek, or would it remain anchored until
day? If it withdrew, would it not be lost to us? It could leave the
waters of Lake Erie, and cross any of the neighboring states by land;
or it could retrace its road by the Detroit River which would lead it
to Lake Huron and the Great Lakes above.
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