It was a quiet summer night, not unpleasantly warm, but with no wind stirring. The boys, however, did not fall asleep with the readiness that their tired feelings led them to expect. The fire crackled and hissed1, sending a fitful glare around, but its smoke seemed to have no effect in driving away the ever-increasing army of mosquitoes. A dancing host encircled each swinging lantern, and the old shanty3 was invaded by a perfect swarm4.
"Buzz, buzz—smack5, smack!" laughed Bob, as his companions slapped and hit. "Just imagine what it must be down there by the beach."
"Millions and millions of 'em," groaned6 Dave. Smack! "I hit that great brute7. Hi! Awake there, Tom?"
"Think a fellow could sleep in such a place as this? Of course I'm awake."
"I'm nearly stifled8, trying to sleep with my head under the blanket," declared Sam, gaping9 to an alarming degree.
"Asleep, 'pirates'?" called Dick Travers, in a loud voice.
"Yes, and having an awful nightmare," answered Nat. "Make a noise, can't you, and wake me up."
"I feel like calling for help," broke in Hackett.
"Knew a feller once what was bit so bad he couldn't see straight for a month," said Dick, mimicking10 Zeke Tipson. "This is nothing."
"Well, I can't stand it any longer," groaned Bob.
He arose, stretched, then walked out and began piling wood on the fire. One by one, wrapped Indian fashion in blankets, his companions gathered around, slapping vigorously at their tiny foes11.
"I didn't know there were so many skeeters in the world," said Pollock, ruefully.
"Oh ho, but I am weary," yawned Dave.
"Isn't it frightful12?" added Tommy Clifton. "I'm going to lie down close to the fire, and go to sleep anyway."
He threw himself upon the ground, followed by the disgusted Dave Brandon, and the two were fast asleep in a moment. The rest, however, after several vain attempts, gave it up. Now and then one arose, threw on a stick, and then resumed his seat by the fire-side to gaze through half-closed eyelids14 at the tongues of flame and dancing sparks.
The night was overcast15, and outside of the circle of light nature was wrapped in impenetrable blackness.
"We certainly were stung in this place," remarked Bob, with a sorry attempt at humor. He frantically16 slapped his wrists and face, then, unable to endure the onslaught in quietness, rose to his feet and began pacing back and forth17.
Nodding and blinking, the boys presented a queer picture in the glare of the fire-light.
Finally Kirk Talbot joined Bob.
"Bears and wildcats!" exclaimed the latter, suddenly clutching his companion's arm. "Hear that? Steamboat down there, sure as guns."
"Great Scott! Wonder who can be nosing around at this time of night. Nat, hello Nat, do you hear that?" cried Bob, excitedly.
"Eh?" muttered the chief "pirate," drowsily18. "What?"
"Wake up, wake up! A boat's close in shore. You can hear the engine puffing19."
"Can't help it—we don't own—"
"Let's light some pine-knots and see what it is," cried Bob. "After our experience with the 'Rambler,' we don't want to take any chances. I say, Nat—"
"He's asleep. Don't waste any time," urged Kirk, excitedly. "Come on, get up, John 'Hatchet20.'"
"What's the matter—what's all this? Of course I won—and by fifteen feet, too."
Several pine-knots were lying around. Bob and Kirk each eagerly seized a stick and held it over the fire. As flames began to hiss2 and sizzle from the end of his torch, Kirk leaped forward and picked up the megaphone.
A series of blood-curdling whoops21 instantly brought the campers to their feet in alarm. They tumbled over each other, half frightened out of their senses.
"Somebody fooling around the 'Nimrod'!" yelled Kirk, throwing the tube to the ground. "Quick, grab your guns, and come with us."
The two boys dashed pell-mell down the hill. The light of the blazing pine-knots, raised high above their heads, flitted from tree to tree, danced and wavered on the ground, fantastic shadows lengthened22 and shortened, while the torches sizzled and flared23, as the boys rushed on.
"It may be nothing," panted Kirk.
"Better be on the safe side," cried Bob. "That boat must be close to the 'Nimrod,' or I miss my guess. The rest of the fellows are coming."
"What's that?"
"Pine-knots and puzzles!" gasped24 Kirk. "The 'Nimrod,' sure as fate."
The rapid pulsation25 of a motor boat suddenly started up.
"Come on!" yelled Bob. "The rascals26 are stealing that boat."
Thoroughly27 angry and alarmed, the boys dashed on. Kirk tripped over a trailing vine and fell headlong in a mass of underbrush. His torch landed amidst the twigs28 and set them ablaze29, but the lad, though badly shaken up, was on his feet in an instant, stamped out the fire and dashed on.
Lights moving in a fantastic fashion and many shouts showed that the rest of the boys were following. Bob Somers reached the site of their first camp. The water lapped at his feet, while the flaring30 torch sent a circle of light over the bay.
The "Nimrod" had disappeared.
"It's gone!" gasped Bob Somers.
"Stolen!" cried Kirk Talbot, in dismay.
"Great Cæsar! There m............