"Whirr-ugh!" Pedro's snore smote heavily on the air.

"He'll sleep now, as only a colored man can sleep," thought Tom jubilantly. "There's only just one time to do this thing, and that's now! Here goes to let Ted Dunstan know that help is right at hand."

Yet Tom's teeth were threatening so persistently to chatter that he had to hold his jaws firmly together for a moment before he dared attempt a slight signal.

"Pss-sst!" It was a low signal indeed. Ted Dunstan half raised his gaze from the printed page, then glanced down again.

"Whirr-rr-ugh!" came the noisy safety-signal from Pedro.

Tom ventured to raise his head a trifle higher above the port gunwale.

"Pss-sst! pss-sst!" he hissed desperately.

Ted Dunstan looked up now, his glance traveling swiftly astern. Then he caught sight of the eager face of the "Meteor's" young skipper. At sight of the peeper's face the Dunstan heir's face was a study in amazement.

At first he just stared, as though suddenly in a daze.

"Come here!" whispered Tom ever so softly.

Ted laid his book down, shot a swift, uncertain glance at the cubby in which Pedro lay, then rose uncertainly. Tom hauled himself up, perching himself on the gunwale.

"Be quick and silent about it," whispered Tom, as Ted reached him and stood staring with all his might. "Can you swim?"

"Why?" demanded Ted curtly, and not exactly in a whisper, either.

"If you can we'll be ash.o.r.e in a jiffy," Halstead responded eagerly.

"Ash.o.r.e?" demanded Ted.

"Why, of course. I've come to rescue you. There's nothing to fear if you're quick about it. But be lively. If you can't swim, then just slip down into the water and trust yourself to me. I'll manage it for both of us. Be quick about it, though, for every minute counts."

"There's some mistake, somewhere," p.r.o.nounced Ted, a decided coldness in his tone.

"Mistake?" echoed Halstead, as though the other had struck him. "What do you mean, Ted? Don't you remember me? I'm in charge of your father's motor boat. I've been looking for you for days, and now you can escape."

"But I don't want to escape," declared Master Ted coolly, almost sneeringly. "Besides, there's nothing to escape from."

"Nothing to escape from?" echoed Tom aghast. "Why, Ted Dunstan, you simply can't know what you're saying. Look how this crowd have used you."

"Well, then, how have they used me?" Ted challenged coolly. "I am having the time of my life."

"The time of your--Say, Ted Dunstan, have you any idea how nearly crazy your father is over your absence?"

"That's strange," mocked the Dunstan heir. "My father knows perfectly well where I am, and just why, too."

This was uttered so candidly that Halstead wondered if he had taken leave of his own senses. There could be no doubt at all that young Dunstan believed every word he was uttering.

"Your father knows you're here?" Tom insisted questioningly.

"Of course he does. It's by his orders that I am here and that I am keeping quiet. And now, clear out. I've talked to you more than is right. I know what you and your chum are-a pair of slippery eels!"

"You say your father knows--You say he ordered you--" Tom went on vaguely. "Ted Dunstan, do you think you're telling the truth or anything like it? And who on earth should you--"

"Clear out of this," ordered the Dunstan heir firmly. "I don't like to see you get into any trouble, but I'm not going to listen to you any longer. My father can tell you about this, if he has a mind to. I've no right to talk about it and I won't. Now if you can swim as well as you say you can, prove it and reach sh.o.r.e on the double-quick. Pedro! Pedro!

Wake up! Now you git, Halstead!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Clear Out of This!" Ordered the Dunstan Heir.]

"But Ted--" persisted the dumfounded young skipper.

"Well, stay, then, and let Pedro get his hands on you," defied the Dunstan heir. "Pedro! Aren't you going to wake up?"

"Coming, chile," sounded a drowsy voice, followed by the noise of heavy movements.

Dazed, thunderstruck, his mind wholly befuddled by this astounding turn to the mystery, Tom Halstead did not linger. He knew too well what was likely to happen to him if he fell into Pedro's hands.

Slipping over the side, Tom cast off from the rope, striking out strongly, swiftly for the sh.o.r.e which was distant not more than one hundred and fifty feet.

"That's him!" cried Ted Dunstan, pointing, and forgetting his grammar in his excitement. "That's one of those slippery boys. He had the cheek to say he had come to rescue me."

"He did, hey? Huh! I'se gwine fix him!" uttered the black man savagely.

"Jest yo' wait, chile, twell I'se bring out dat shotgun."

"Oh, no, no, Pedro! Not that!" pleaded Ted in sudden dismay and terror.

But Pedro dived back into the forward cubby. All this conversation the young motor boat captain had heard, for it pa.s.sed in no low tones. Just as Pedro reached the cubby Tom scrambled up on the beach. Before him were the deep woods. In among the trees he plunged. The instant he was satisfied that he was out of sight of the launch, he turned at right angles, speeding swiftly for some hundred and fifty yards. Then he halted to listen.

"Where he done gone?" demanded Pedro, reappearing on deck, gripping a double-barreled shotgun.

"I'm not going to tell you," retorted Ted sulkily. "Shooting is not in the game."

Tom heard the murmur of the voices-nothing more. A minute later he heard the steady chug! chug! of the launch's steam engine as that craft started. Then the noise ceased as the craft got smoothly under way. But Halstead was up a tree, now, where he could watch.

"Heading out to sea, are you?" he chuckled, despite his great anxiety.

"And in a six-mile boat. Hm! I think the 'Meteor' can overtake you and at least keep you in sight. For that matter, three boys can fight better than one!"

Tom didn't linger up the tree to think all that. Ere he had finished speaking to himself he was down on the ground, making speedily for where he judged the road to be. As he came in sight of the road he heard another chug! chug! that made his heart bound with delighted hope.

"Hi, there! Stop there, please!" shouted the young motor boat captain, waving his arms as he sighted a touring car headed toward the village.

There was only the chauffeur on the front seat and an elderly man in the tonneau. The chauffeur glanced back at this other man, then slowed down the auto.

"If you're going into Wood's Hole, take me with you?" begged Tom so earnestly that the older man swung open the door, saying crisply: "Jump in!"

Nor did Halstead lose a second. He plumped down into the seat by the door and the car was off again, going at some twenty miles an hour.

"I hope you won't mind my wet clothes in your car," hinted Tom apologetically. "I got a big drenching in the ocean and there was neither chance nor time to make a change."

"You're in a hurry to get to the village, eh?" smiled the elderly man.