"That's what I thought," said Dick. "Now, I will tell you that Andrew is in danger. I had meant to find him, but I don't feel well enough. I suppose you can use a gun?"
"We get a shot at a whaup or shellduck whiles. Ye're no' looking weel."
Dick lifted a big 10-bore gun from a rack and searched a locker for cartridges.
"Fours," he said, putting down a packet. "I think you'd better have B's. Here they are."
The fisherman looked at him curiously as he took the cartridges, which were loaded with large shot; and Dick smiled.
"You may meet the man who set the punt adrift," he explained. "I want you to go to the wreck and find my cousin. Tell him to be careful, because one of the gang has come down the channel after him. If there's trouble going on when you get there, do what you think best; but bring Andrew back. The police won't blame you afterward if you have to use the gun."
The man nodded quietly, and Dick knew that he could be trusted.
"Ye'll be for staying here. Will I light the stove?"
"No," said Dick. "I imagine it would be safer if I waited in your boat. She'll be needed when the tide flows, and I can make myself comfortable in the den."
The fisherman sculled the boat ashore and put out an anchor; and then he went away across the bank and Dick crept into the forecastle. The stove was still burning, and the small, dark place was warm. It had been a strain to hold out until all that was necessary had been done, and now he was glad to lie down among the ropes and sails. There was a weight on his chest, his breathing was hard, and his pulse seemed to be getting sluggish. He wished he had some brandy or there was somebody about; but he must not give in yet. The boat would be needed when Andrew came back and it might be tampered with.
While the fisherman and Dick had been hurrying to them, Andrew and Whitney, well armed, crossed the bank toward the wreck and then separated at a short distance from her. Andrew went straight forward while his comrade made a round so as to approach her from the other side. Hitherto, their visits had led to nothing, but Rankine seemed to think it would be different this time.
When he got near the wreck, Andrew found that the tide had scoured out a pool round her after part, and this threatened to make things difficult. His figure would be visible against the pale gleam of the water and he could not get across without splashing. He must go round, but this would take him away from the place where it was easiest to get on board. For all that, he must not make a noise, and he moved cautiously across the wet sand until he reached the broken timbers on the edge of the pool.