"From what I saw in it, as a sea-faring man," Gates answered, "the bearings on that paper didn't tell enough. No one could sail in new water without a plainer chart than that. No, sir, if it means anything at all, I'd say it meant something else." "We're wasting a lot of golden time here," I said. "What if there is a channel, and what if the paper does mark the entrance to it! That doesn't get us anywhere. How could we tell which were the right two islands to go between, when there're thousands of 'em on the water and less than fifty on the paper, and not even a landmark of any kind indicated! As Gates says, it isn't plain enough." Monsieur seemed to be unconvinced, and Tommy began to laugh at him, saying: "Gates would be an idiot to sail into a lot of treacherous oyster bars guided by that poor excuse of a thing! Sylvia drew it for a subterfuge, anyhow, not a chart. I've got the right dope, so listen: Those crooks are ashore watching us right now--it's a cinch they are, because any of us, placed in their position, would be doing the same. Now if we sail in and push things, they'll run off and we couldn't find 'em again--probably never. So let's divide our crew and sail both yachts straight out across the Gulf--like we're going home. Then they'll think we've given up the chase and be off their guard. But when we get over the horizon we'll make a circle back, and after dark anchor in some cove north of this island area--if Gates knows a good one. From that point, being well hid and unsuspected, we'll conduct operations by land as we think best. How about it?" It was the most sensible thing I could see, and said so. The others quite enthusiastically agreed, and in a few minutes the two yachts were sailing prettily westward. Lower and lower sank the Ten Thousand Islands, and sometime after we finished luncheon a sailor aloft reported them gone. Then with a will we changed our course and began the big circle back. Gates had been making observations. His chart showed a cove about ten miles north of the island area, but too shallow for the _Whim_. Yet ten miles farther north of that was another inlet with fairly good water. Some thought this would be the logical place to anchor, while others insisted it was too far from operations. "We might establish an outpost in the little cove," I said, at last, "making a camp there and keeping the launch with us, while the _Whim_ stays in the larger cove as a base to fall back on in case of necessity." "The launch won't do," Tommy corrected. "In a quiet place like that its put-put could be heard for miles. Paddles, oars or sails for these still waters, Jack!" He was right. Moreover, one of our small boats did have a center-board, thwart and portable mast, so that obstacle was easily crossed.