“These fellows aren’t likely to move around much in daylight. Night is the time for their operations,” he pointed out. “We’ll hang around for a while longer.” Twilight deepened into darkness and the lights of Bayport could be seen as a yellow haze through the mist at the distant extremity of the bay. The cliff was but a dark smudge in the night and the waves broke against the rocks with a lonely sound. Suddenly, through the darkness, they heard a muffled sound. Their own boat was running along quietly and they listened. “Another boat,” remarked Tony, in a whisper. It was, indeed, another motorboat, and it was near the base of the cliff. At last they could distinguish a faint light, and toward this light they began to move slowly. They were tense with excitement. Everything might depend on the events of the next few minutes. When they had gone in toward the cliff as far as they dared, creeping up from the west, they could make out the gloomy outline of the other motorboat, which was making its way slowly out of the very face of the cliff itself. At first they could not imagine how the craft had got in so close nor where it was coming from. They crept up closer, at imminent danger of discovery, and at imminent danger of being washed ashore on the rocks. Then, finally, they heard the other boat slow down, heard the faint clatter of oars, then voices. After that, with an abrupt roar that startled them, the other motorboat suddenly plunged on out into the bay. They could hear it threshing on its way out toward sea at an ever-increasing rate of speed. “Where is it going?” said Tony, in amazement. Frank cautioned for silence. “There’s a rowboat around here,” he whispered. “Lay low.” They waited in silence and at last they heard the rattle of oars again. This time the sound was closer. The rowboat was drawing near. Fortunately the wind was from the sea and it blew the sounds toward them, at the same time keeping the men in the boat from hearing the muffled murmur of their own craft. The rattle of oars continued and at last the boys could see the dim shape of the boat through the gloom. Finally they could distinguish the words of the dark figures in the craft. At a sign from Frank Tony cut off the engine for the time being. But they could not make out complete sentences. The wind would whisk toward them a fragment of speech and then the rest of the words would be drowned. “—three hundred pounds—” they heard a harsh voice saying, and then the rest of the sentence was lost. A dull murmur of voices. Finally— “I don’t know. It’s risky—” The wind died for a moment and then through the gloom the boys saw that the rowboat was heading directly in toward the face of the cliff. It was not many yards away and as it passed by they heard the harsh voice again. “Li Chang’s share—” he was saying. “No, we mustn’t forget that,” they heard a gruff voice reply. “I hope they get away all right.”