“Jumping Cæsar!” exclaimed Tempest, several hours later, “but I’ve got a notion. Jim, you can swim like a fish, can’t you? I have seen you doing stunts in the water that would make an otter green with envy. Thank goodness, I’m fairly good myself at that game. There is one positive, certain thing, and that is that two of the men on that boat will be snoring like pigs about midnight. Two from three leaves one, or at least it did when I went to school. Dave, my son, I’m afraid we shall have to leave you out of this little performance except as a spectator, though you’ll come in useful after the first stage. Jim, it is risky, but it is worth while under the circumstances. We will wait until the ‘witching hour,’ and then do our fish act. One of us may get potted in the excitement, and perhaps both of us, but we simply must do something, and this looks to me like a golden opportunity to catch Flagg napping.” As all remained quiet at midnight, the three descended the hill and made for the beach inside the lagoon, but a considerable distance away from the _Firefly_. “Not a sound, mind!” Tempest cautioned. “Everything depends on being able to steal a march on them. I know you’re just burning to come along with us, Dave, but you couldn’t do any good and two can do the thing more quietly than three. I want you to stop right here for about twenty minutes. I’m afraid, if you move, you will be heard by their sentry, and the less alert he is the better. After a while you can creep through the edge of the trees until you are opposite the _Firefly_, and there ought to be something doing by then, though goodness only knows what it may be.” Stripped of their clothes, Tempest and Jim crawled down to the water’s edge, taking advantage of a ridge of sand for cover most of the way. Dave stood watching, with his heart beating fast. This was the climax of their adventures, and he dreaded to think of the danger Tempest was running. He would have attempted to dissuade his friend from going, but Tempest was in no mood to brook interference. Nothing short of an earthquake would have held him back. Sliding into the water like seals, the pair struck straight out, with the intention of making a wide detour, so that they could approach the _Firefly_ from the seaward side. That, Tempest considered, would at least give them a better chance of reaching their goal without being detected. He was fully aware of the enormous odds that were against them――odds much greater than he had allowed Dave to suspect. Only desperate need had driven him to this undertaking. His chief fear was that they would be seen from the _Firefly_, and probably shot before they had a chance to board her. If they did happen to be lucky enough to get onto the boat unobserved, they would still have their work cut out. He knew he could depend on Jim to stand by him, whatever occurred, but two men, unarmed, were not likely to have much chance against Flagg and his crew if it came to a rough-and-tumble.