“Can’t we do anything?” asked Will.

“Well, we’re only a lot of boys, and they are big strapping men.  Probably they’ve got the law on their side, too,” suggested Frank, shaking his head.

“What do you mean by that, Frank?” queried Bluff indignantly.

“Why, the chances are ten to one that the boy, if it is a boy, must belong to one of the men—­his own son, I mean—­and you know, Mr. Lawyer, that a fellow has to be mighty careful how he steps in between a man and his son.  That same law allows even a brute a certain right to punish a rebellious child,” said Frank.

So they talked it over a long time.  Apparently, nothing could be done that night to ascertain the cause of the outbreak.  All was silent now in the direction of the sharpie, and not even a riding light marked the spot where the boat lay.

Frank had recommended that they put out their own lights, all but one lantern, which was to be fastened in such a way that it would mark the anchorage of the little modern motor-boat.

“It’ll be an invitation to the sharks to visit us,” remarked Bluff.

“Not at all.  If they mean to drop in on us during the night, the presence of one lantern, or its absence, will make mighty little difference,” responded Frank.

“Do you really think they’ll do anything?” asked Will pointedly.

“No, I don’t.  In the first place, they must know that there’s quite a crowd of us aboard.  Then such boats as this are apt to carry a few guns along.  Just sleep in peace, Will.  The chances are ten to one the only thing apt to arouse us to-night may be the howl of a norther,” said Frank soothingly.

About ten o’clock both Bluff and Will began yawning.

“Go to bed, you fellows.  Jerry and I will manage the first and second watches between us.  If we want help, we’ll knock you up,” observed Frank.

He gave Jerry a wink at the same time, as if to notify him to remain up; and the observant Jerry understood that Frank had a card of some sort up his sleeve.

“Say, what’s in the wind?” he asked in a whisper, when they were left alone.

Frank put his finger on his lips, as he said in an equally guarded tone: 

“Not so loud.  I don’t want them to hear.”

“Then you really expect trouble with those rascally spongers?” demanded his chum.

“That depends.  But I’ll tell you what I’ve decided to do, Jerry.”

“Go on; I’m all ears.”

“After a bit, I’m going to take the dinghy and paddle over to that sharpie.  Somehow or other, I feel that there is some one there in need of assistance.  Perhaps it’s none of our business, and I’m silly to even think of running such a risk, but something seems to impel me to go; I can’t tell you just what.”

“Not alone, Frank?  Why not take me along, too?” pleaded Jerry.

“No.  One can get along in that stumpy little boat fine, while with two it is a clumsy affair.  You know that.  I only mean to hover near, in the darkness, and find out, if possible, what’s doing.  Perhaps I may not go closer than fifty feet—­unless something happens!”