The wind was right for them to hear any sound that might come from the direction of the unknown vessel, but when it rose to a wild shriek nothing but its howling could be distinguished. When it fell, each of the four boys distinguished the sound of oars. Somehow there seemed something mysterious about the movement of the boat. Each of the listening lads felt the mystery, although they could not have told why. Harry’s teeth chattered. He was cold, and he was nervous. The events of the night had quite unmanned him. Clug-clank, clug-clank, clug-clank. More than a single set of oars were being used. Frank felt sure of that, for his keen ear distinguished something in the sound that settled the point in his mind. The boat was coming straight toward the point where the boys were crouching on the shore. “Pier is near here,” thought Frank. “They’re going to run in there and get in the lee of it. But why are they coming ashore in this confounded storm?” In the teeth of the wind a fine sleet was carried. It was too cold for a genuine storm of rain, and the sleet fell like some particles of ice. No wonder Harry’s teeth chattered together. “Keep still, boys,” warned Frank. “We’ll get a look at those fellows.” “Huah!” grunted Browning. “Don’t know how you are going to get a look at anybody in this darkness.” “They are bringing some kind of a light.” “Can’t see it.” “They’ve got it just the same.” “What makes you think so?” “Saw a gleam of it when they were getting into the boat.” “Yes; but it may have been left on the vessel.” “No; I’m sure I caught a flicker after the boat started.” “Well, what sort of a light is it if we can’t see it now?” “Dark lantern.” “Eh? Great Scott!” All the boys, with the exception of Merry, gave a start. Why should the men in the boat carry a dark lantern? Rattleton, Browning, Diamond, all three of them, flung the question at Frank. “I don’t know,” confessed Merry; “but it is a part of the mystery.” It added to the keen interest with which the boys awaited the approach of the boat. Burglars carried dark lanterns. Crooks carried dark lanterns. What sort of men were these? What sort of a night expedition were they making? For the moment the mystery surrounding the fate of Bart Hodge was forgotten. The boys had no thoughts for anyone or anything but the approaching boat. The sound of rowing became more and more distinct. “Changed now--not coming straight here,” whispered Frank. “Going in at pier. I thought so.” Rattleton’s imagination was at work; strange fancies flitted through his brain. “What if they are kidnapers?” he thought. “What if they had stolen that girl? What if they were paid to put her out of the way? What if they have murdered her and are bringing her ashore to bury her under cover of darkness, where her body will never be found. What if----”