Of small boats there were none until, at about one
o'clock, when the two white lights of Baker's Island lay west by north
and the red flash on Eastern Point showed almost dead ahead, Phil called
from the bow.
"Steve, there's something ahead that looks like a boat or a rock. Can
you see it?"
"Which side?"
"A little to the left. Port, isn't it? Han doesn't see it, but--"
"I've got it," answered Steve. After a moment he added with conviction:
"It's a boat. Has she changed her position, Phil?"
"Not while I've been watching. Looks as if she was going about the same
way we are." The others came clustering forward from the stern to stare
across the water at the dark spot ahead which, in the uncertain light of
the setting moon, might be almost anything. If it was a boat, it showed
no light. Anxiously the boys watched, and after a few minutes Steve
announced with quiet triumph:
"We're pulling up on her, fellows, whoever she is!"
"She's the _Follow Me_," declared Harry Corwin. "She must be, or she
wouldn't be running without lights."
"We'll know before long," said Steve. "I wish the moon would stay out a
little longer, though. Joe, try the searchlight and see if you can pick
her up."
But the craft ahead was a good mile away and the _Adventurer's_ small
searchlight was not powerful enough to bridge that distance with its
white glare.
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