UNDER THE SAIL
That Claude Harper was searching for them, the girls did not doubt. But though he knew someone had been peering in the window, they were hopeful he had not actually seen them. Huddling beneath the sail in the bottom of the boat, they nervously waited.
The man came farther out on the pier, the boards creaking beneath his weight. At any instant the girls expected to have the sailcloth jerked from their heads. However, Harper's attention was diverted as Sweeper Joe came out of the house.
"Find anyone?" the factory worker asked.
"No, but tracks lead to the window. Someone's been spying."
"Kids probably."
"I don't know about that," Claude Harper returned gruffly. "I'd feel a lot safer if we didn't have all that stuff in the basement. What's our chances of getting rid of it tonight?"
"We can't do it. Tomorrow or next night maybe. Arrangements have got to be made, and if we try to push things, we'll end up in a jam."
The voices faded away, though not entirely. Presently daring to peep from beneath the canvas, Penny saw that the two men had seated themselves on the rear steps of the house at the edge of the river and within plain view of the tied-up boat.
"We're in a nice position now!" she whispered to Sally. "Suppose they sit there until they decide to leave in this boat?"
"We'll be caught. We're the same as trapped now unless they go back into the house."
The two men showed no inclination to leave. They talked earnestly together, evidently making plans of some sort. Though the girls tried hard to overhear, they could catch only an occasional word. After awhile, Ma Harper, a wiry, ugly woman with stringy black hair, came outdoors to join the men on the steps.
"It's getting late," she warned. "If you're goin' to tend to that job today, you'll have to be gettin' across the river. Ain't you due to show up for work at four o'clock, Joe?"
"That's right," the man yawned, getting up. "I'll be glad when I can chuck the whole business and live without workin'."
Though Penny and Sally did not hear much of the conversation, it was evident to them that the men were about ready to make use of the boat.
"We're sunk," Sally whispered fearfully. "Maybe we ought to climb out of here and make a dash for it."
Penny offered a better idea. "Why not untie the rope, and let the boat drift off?" she proposed. "The current is swift and should carry us downstream fairly fast."
"Any other boat around that they can use to follow us in?"
"I don't see any." Penny raised the sail a little higher as she gazed along the pier and nearby beach.
"All right, then do your stuff," Sally urged.
While she held the sail slightly above Penny's head so that no movement would be discernible to those on the house steps, the latter reached her hands from beneath the cloth and swiftly untied the rope. The boat began to drift away. Covered by the sail, the girls lay motionless and flat on the craft's bottom.
At first nothing happened. But as they began to hope that the men would not notice the drifting boat, they heard an explosive shout.
"Look!" Claude Harper exclaimed. "Our boat!"
"Jumpin' fish hooks!" Sweeper Joe muttered. "How did that happen? I tied 'er secure."
"It looks like it," the other retorted sarcastically. "I can't afford to lose that boat."
The girls could hear running footsteps on the pier and boardwalk near the dance pavilion. Sally dared to peep from beneath the canvas again.
"They're after a motorboat!" she reported tensely. "Harper has one he keeps locked in a boathouse."
"How close are we to the bend in the river?"
"About twenty yards."
The swift current was doing its best for the girls, swinging their boat toward the bend. Once beyond it, they would be temporarily hidden from the pier. But the current also was tending to carry them farther and farther from shore.
"Do we dare row?" Penny asked nervously.
"Not yet. Harper is having trouble getting the engine of his boat started," Sally reported. "We'll be safe for a minute or two. We're getting closer to the bend."
