"A boat!" exclaimed Joe.
"Heading toward the island!"
They kept their eyes fixed on the place where they had seen the light. In a few moments a vivid splash of lightning cut the darkness and they had a momentary glimpse of a small motorboat tossing about in the black waves.
"He'll never make the shore in this storm," said Frank, shaking his head.
"Can it be Tony?"
"I hardly think so. He wouldn't come close in such a storm."
"That's true, too."
"I think it's some outsider."
"Do you think we can help him?"
"I don't think so. He'll probably pile up on the rocks."
"Perhaps he's one of the gang."
"That's so," agreed Frank. "I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps he knows where he's going, after all. Still, it won't hurt to go down the shore a bit and see if he makes his landing all right."
They went on down the shore in the darkness, picking their way among the rocks, feeling in their faces the salt spray blown in from the sea. The dull booming of the surf and the howling of the wind provided an almost deafening cacophony of sound. Every little while,
