Phil and Han stretched themselves out at the bow, Steve, Joe, Harry and Tom Corwin and Cas Temple remained on the bridge deck and the rest of the company retired to the cockpit, from where, by looking along the after cabin roof, they had a satisfactory view of the course.

Perhaps one or two of the boys did nod a little during the next two hours, but real slumber was far from the minds of any of them.

The _Adventurer_ was doing a good twenty miles an hour, the propeller lashing the water into a long foaming path that melted astern in the moonlight.

Ossie busied himself in the galley about midnight and served hot coffee and bread-and-butter sandwiches.
Only once was the _Adventurer_ changed from her course, which Steve had laid for Gloucester, and then the light which had aroused their suspicions was soon seen to belong to a coasting schooner beating her way toward Boston.

Of small boats there were none until, at about one o'clock, when the two white lights of Baker's Island lay west by north and the red flash on Eastern Point showed almost dead ahead, Phil called from the bow.
"Steve, there's something ahead that looks like a boat or a rock.