There they were, eight in number, large, strong boats, every one with
several pairs of oars, and tied with ropes to the bushes.
The eyes of Shif'less Sol watered as he gazed.
"They look pow'ful good to a lazy man," he said, "I could shorely sleep
mighty comf'table in one o' them while Jim Hart wuz pullin' at the oars."
"I think the small one at the end nearest to us would just suit our
party," said Henry; "although it has more, it could be handled easily with
a single pair of oars."
"Shorely!" said Shif'less Sol, "but how to git away with it is now the
question."
It was indeed a problem, vexing and likewise dangerous. A sentinel, musket
on shoulder, walked up and down in front of the Spanish navy, and he
seemed to be very wide awake. Moreover, two men slept in each boat.
"We must get that sentinel somehow," said Henry, "not to hurt him, but to
see that he doesn't talk for the next half hour or so."
"What's your idea?" asked the shiftless one.
Henry whispered to him rapidly and Sol grinned with satisfaction.
"Good enough," said the shiftless one. "It'll work," and he crept away
from Henry deep in the bushes a little west of the sentinel. A moment or
two later the Spaniard on watch was startled by a sharp, warning hiss
from the edge of the thicket.
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