“O-o-oh!” exclaimed George Baker. “But we’ll catch it, though, when they find it out.” “All right,” said Tim. “I’ll take my share if the rest will.” Again the others assented somewhat dubiously. Toward midnight, the four lads stole cautiously down to the shore, and climbed noiselessly aboard the _Surprise_. As Little Tim had described it, there, tucked away in the cabin, was a box of carpenter’s tools. “Here’s what we want first,” said Little Tim, softly, producing a big auger from the box. “We’ll use this for awhile, because it doesn’t make any noise.” “Great!” exclaimed Joe Hinman, whose imagination was now fired with the idea of mischief. “Let me have the first turn at it.” Little Tim yielded him the precedence. Climbing out of the yacht again, Joe Hinman proceeded to bore into the planking of the _Surprise_, on the opposite side from the shore. This served to hide their operations and also to deaden what little sound it made. He went laboriously along the length of one plank, and then turned the auger over to Little Tim, who went to work with a subdued squeal of delight. “Keep to the same plank,” said Joe. “We don’t want to ruin the whole bottom of the boat.” They bored the holes in turn, close together, all around one plank, and then began on another. It was tiresome work, but they served three long pieces of planking the same way. Then they brought out a great chisel and pried off the planking, fearful of the noise it made. But they had done their work well, and the sound of the tearing wood was not sharp. No one stirred out aboard the yacht. “That’s enough,” said Joe, as the third plank came away. “They’ll have hard work to match that up in two days. They’re short of wood now, by the way they patched the other place.” “We’ll take away the pieces of planking we’ve cut out, to make sure, and bury them in the sand up alongshore,” suggested George Baker. “Why not take the box of tools, too?” said Little Tim, whose blood was fired, and who would have stopped at nothing. “Not much!” exclaimed Joe. “We’re in for it enough as it is. Tim, I didn’t know you had so much pluck.” “I wish it was over with,” said Tim, looking apprehensively toward the _Seagull_. They stole softly away again, back to the shanty. But it was long before they dropped off to sleep. When Tim Reardon awoke, the next morning, he was dreaming that he had jumped up suddenly in the cabin of the _Surprise_ and had bumped his head against the roof of the cabin. It was a hard bump, too. Then it seemed as if the boat was turning upside down, and jumping out of water, and the floor rising up and hitting him. The next moment, however, he realized that he was in the shanty, where he had gone to sleep, but that a strong hand held him fast, and was shaking him roughly, while another hand was cuffing him over the head and ears. He let out a lusty yell for mercy, and the others jumped up, fearful of what was coming.