“They said there would be. That’ll be the launch that belongs to the natives. Will our mast clear that beam? Gently now, gently.”
Swallow slid into the big dark boathouse as Susan brought her oars in.
“There’s a rowing boat,” whispered Roger loudly.
“Look out. Don’t bump the launch,” whispered Susan.
“There’s nothing else,” said Roger. “The Amazon isn’t here.”
John was standing in the stern of the Swallow , holding on to the gunwale of the launch. He pulled out his pocket torch. “They won’t be able to see the light from the house,” he said, and pressed down the button.
The bright light wavered round the boathouse. It showed a rowing skiff and the big launch and an empty space on the further side. It was clear that a boat was usually moored there. Pinned to the wooden stage that ran along that wall of the boathouse there was a big envelope, white in the light of the torch.
Captain John pushed at the launch and Swallow moved across towards the wall. Roger grabbed the envelope.
“Give it to me,” said the mate, and the boy obediently gave it.
The captain and the mate examined the envelope by the light of the torch. There was a skull and crossbones on it, done in red pencil. Under that, in blue pencil, was written, “To the Swallows.” John tore the envelope open. Inside there was a sheet of paper with another skull and crossbones, done in blue. Under them in red were the words “Ha! Ha!” written very large, and under them were the words, “The Amazon Pirates,” and two names, “Nancy Blackett, Captain” and “Peggy Blackett, Mate” also written in red.