CHAPTER VIII
The Old Tower
Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unitto his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. "I _should_ get apicture," he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors.He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only anactual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the ratherslow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn't give enoughlight at its extreme range of eight hundred yards. In all probability,he would not get an image on the film at a distance greater than twohundred.
It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared waslight. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight wouldcast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would beable to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb.
Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register thereflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsionhad been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. Themotion-picture film had been made at his special order. It was not astock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon couldhave measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment.Rick wasn't skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic waveanalyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in thelibrary and couldn't be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance toask his father before he tested the camera.
He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to dosome figuring.
Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waitedexpectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. "It's an out-of-towncall, for either one of you."
"We'll take it up here, Mom," Rick called back. He and Scotty racedfor the landing.
Scotty reached the phone first. "Hello?" He nodded at Rick. "It'sCap'n Mike."
Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with theSeaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon.
Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we'recoming down today. Says he has something to talk over with us."
Rick said quickly, "We'll be down by boat right after lunch."
Scotty relayed the information and hung up. "He didn't say what itwas, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn't come downthis morning."
"Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna." Rick grinned. "By theway, did you call Jerry while I was working on the camera?"
"I sure did. He got all excited. I had to calm him down a littlebefore he went and looked up the answer."
Scotty had phoned at Rick's suggestion to find out from Jerry'snewspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence ofsmuggling at Seaford.
"He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either theCoast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we hadsomething more than suspicion to go on."
"A good idea," Rick agreed. "It wouldn't do to get the government allsteamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we'd belaying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let's go see ifMom can scrape up a sandwich, and then get going for Seaford."
It was not yet two o'clock when Cap'n Mike greeted the boys as theytied up at the old windmill pier. "Mighty glad you're here. Boys,we've got to really buckle down to business."
"What happened?" Rick asked. He and Scotty fell in step with the oldcaptain and walked toward his shack.
"Tom Tyler's hearing has been set for Saturday morning."
Scotty frowned. "Today is Wednesday. That doesn't give us much time."
"I know it don't. But unless we find some answers right fast, Tom willlose his license sure as shooting. And that's not all. He'll findhimself charged by the insurance company with deliberately running the_Sea Belle_ on the reef."
Rick found a comfortable seat in the captain's shack and stretched outhis legs. "Let's hold a council of war. If we're going to doanything, we'd better have a plan of action." He told Cap'n Mike oftheir suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged insmuggling and waited for the old man's reaction.
Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. "Now! It could be that youboys have something there. It could just be!"
"But what would they be smuggling?" Scotty demanded.
"Shucks. I could make you a list a mile long. Most people think it'sonly worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tellyou many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escapepaying duty on them."
"Suppose they _are_ smuggling," Rick pointed out. "How do we proveit?"
"Catch 'em red-handed," Scotty said. "Red-handed instead ofredheaded."
Rick and Cap'n Mike groaned in unison.
It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick hadgiven some thought to it before going to sleep. "There are a couple ofways we might do that," he said. "First of all, we know they have toget rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House untilit's moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in thehotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night."
"Not practical," Scotty objected. "Mom would object to our staying outall night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer beforethe hearing Saturday morning."
"Then how about this," Rick continued. "We move in on them when the_Albatross_ pulls up at Creek House to unload."
Scotty stretched out on Cap'n Mike's bed. "That's fine. But how do weknow when the _Albatross_ is going to visit the Kelsos?"
"Cap'n Mike tells us. Cap'n, according to what you said when we werehere before, the _Albatross_ sometimes stays at Creek House untilalmost midnight. That means that it takes them awhile to unloadwhatever they're smuggling."
Scotty had an objection. "If they were doing any unloading, wouldn'tyou have seen them, Cap'n Mike?"
The old seaman shook his head. "Nope. I didn't dare get close enoughto see what was going on. Besides, my eyes ain't what they were atnight. I just sat off the end of Salt Creek, letting the reeds hideme, and saw what I could, which wasn't much. If I'd gone up the creekany distance, they'd have spotted me against the sea."
Rick finished, "So you see, if Cap'n Mike could keep an eye on thecreek, he'd know when the _Albatross_ arrived. If he phoned us rightaway, we could be here within an hour, or even a half-hour, if we tookthe fast boat."
"Sounds sensible," Scotty admitted. "Any other plans?"
"Just one, which isn't very practical. We could get someone to fly outover the fleet during the most likely hours and wait for the_Albatross_ to make contact with the supply ship. I wish we could flyat night, but we can't. The contact has to be during the darkness, andI think before dawn is the best time. If Brad Marbek made contactafter he got through fishing, some of the other trawlers might seethe ship coming. Then they might get curious and hang around to seewhy Brad was hanging back. Maybe that's what Tom Tyler did."
"But if he left and made contact before dawn, the others might thinknothing of it. I don't suppose they all leave at once, do they?"Scotty asked the captain.
"Nope. They don't all leave at once, but they usually come back at thesame time. And Brad has been coming back as far as Salt Creek with therest. So I guess Rick guessed right."
Cap'n Mike did some figuring. "Tell you what. I can sit on the beachat the edge of town with a pair of night glasses. I'll borrow some. Ican tell if a ship turns up Salt Creek by its running lights.Afterwards, I'll have to go a block and use the phone at Fetty's DrugStore. We'll start tonight."
Scotty got up and yawned. "That's settled. Now I'd like to look intosomething. We can't overlook any possible lead. Rick, remember thetower?"
"Yes." Rick got to his feet, too. "And I remember something else. Thatbusiness about the shifting current and the light. Cap'n, have youtalked to Captain Killian?"
"Not yet, but I surely will today. That may be worth something." Hewalked with them toward the pier. "But what's this tower business?"
Rick explained briefly. "We'll stop there on the w
ay back toSpindrift."
"Phone us if Captain Killian has anything interesting to say," Scottyrequested.
"I will. Now you boys be careful. Keep a weather eye out, and don'tforget those warnings."
"We're not likely to," Rick assured him.
As they sped past the Seaford water front toward Smugglers' Reef, Rickplotted a plan of action. First, if they were to spy on Creek House,they needed to know a little more about the area. He assumed that theywould hurry from Spindrift by boat, since it would take too long to goto Whiteside and try to get a car. The Cub was out; there was no placeto land at Seaford.
The best way of finding a good hide-out from which to watch the Kelsoswould be to take a photograph from the air. He could do that this veryafternoon and develop it at home. An enlargement, which the photo labat Spindrift was equipped to make, would be better than a map.
He felt better now that they had an objective. But! "Suppose the_Albatross_ doesn't do any smuggling before Saturday?" he askedScotty.
"Tough luck. Captain Tyler will just have to suffer a while longer.Besides, this is only a hearing. If he's tried, it won't be untillater."
"Guess that's right," Rick agreed. He swung the launch around the tipof Smugglers' Reef, past the light and the wreck of the _Sea Belle_.For the first time since the fatal night, there was no one at thetrawler or on the reef. He put the launch close in shore at the sandystrip near the Creek House fence, and Scotty jumped to the beach withthe anchor as before.
Rick joined him on the sand. "Now for a look at the tower. Where didyou see the marks?"
Scotty pointed to the rusted structure. There were four uprightgirders slanting inward from the base to where the top platform hadbeen. Horizontal girders held the structure together one-third andtwo-thirds of the way up. "The marks are on the first row ofcross-pieces," he said. "On this side."
The steel climbing ladder was on the Seaford, or opposite side, of thetower halfway between the uprights. Rick looked at it dubiously. "It'spretty rusty. Think it will bear our weight?"
"Maybe only one of us had better go," Scotty conceded. "I'll try it."
Rick looked at his friend's solid frame and shook his head. "I'm thelightest. I'd better do it."
"You're not that much lighter," Scotty objected. "Tell you what, let'sflip for it."
"Okay." Rick produced a coin, tossed it in the air, and called,"Tails."
It was. Scotty picked up the coin and turned it over, as though makingsure it wasn't tails on both sides, then handed it to Rick with agrin. "Can you always call your shots like that?"
"Only on Wednesdays." He gestured toward the high board fence that cutthem off from Creek House. "Look, just to be on the safe side, youkeep an eye open for the Kelsos. If you see them coming, give me ayell. I don't think they'd dare try anything in broad daylight, butyou can never tell."
"All right. I'll stick near the boat."
As Scotty walked back to the launch, Rick went to the base of thetower and looked up. The frame seemed secure enough in spite of therust. He jumped for the first rung of the ladder and hauled himselfup. In a moment he was on the horizontal girder. The scratches Scottyhad seen from the air were clearly visible. To reach them, he had towork around the girders to the opposite side. He stood up and foundhis balance, then walked easily to the corner girder, rounded it andcrossed to the other side. The marks were only a few feet away.
The upper stories of Creek House were on and above his level now. Hecould look right into the windows of the second floor--except that thewindows were so dirty that he couldn't see much. Suddenly he froze.One of the second-floor windows was being raised. He saw a vaguefigure behind it, but it was dark in the room and he couldn't seeclearly. There was no reason to be disturbed about it, yet he felt aquick wave of apprehension. He had better look over the scratches andget out.
Holding on to the corner girder, he crouched and leaned outward towardthe marks. There were two bright scratches about a foot apart. Betweenthem the entire rust surface had been disturbed. Something had restedthere, or, more likely, it had been clamped. He swung back a little tolook at the inner side of the girder and saw continuations of thescratches that terminated in round spots. When he leaned forward tolook at the outer side, the marks were there, but so slight that theywouldn't be noticeable unless one were looking for them.
His brows creased. He couldn't think of anything that would make marksjust like those. He wished he had brought a camera. A photo would havegiven them something to study later.
Then, as he turned and started back, something whistled over his headand slapped sharply into the upright girder. His first thought wasthat Scotty had thrown a pebble or something to attract his attention,but when he looked, Scotty was facing the other way.
The whistle and slap came again. This time he looked up, and thestrength drained from his knees. A few inches over his head weresilvery splashes against the rusty surface, and they were the silverymarks of splattered lead!
He was being shot at!
Rick reacted like a suddenly released spring. He dropped to his knees,his hands reaching for a hold on the girder. They hooked over theinner edge and he rolled free on the opposite side. For an instant hedangled in space, then he dropped, his knees flexing to take the shockof landing. It wasn't much of a drop, a little over fourteen feet. Andas he dropped he yelled Scotty's name.
Scotty started for him on a dead run, but Rick's yell stopped him.
"Start the boat and cast off!"
Then Rick's legs flew as he ran for the launch. For the moment, bothof them were cut off from Creek House by the high board fence. But toget clear they would have to come out of the fence shelter and intothe view of the second-floor sniper once more. He planned as he ran,and as he jumped across the water to the launch, he gasped, "Stayclose to the reef and pick up speed. Get going."
The launch was already in motion. Rick dropped into the seat next toScotty and his pal pushed the gas pedal all the way. The nose liftedand the stern dug in.
Rick turned to watch, and as the second floor of Creek House cameinto view, he said, "Give it all you've got. Cut sharply across SaltCreek and the rushes will cover us."
"Hang on!" Scotty snapped. He threw the wheel hard over and the launchrocked up like a banking plane, then he leveled off and the boat shotacross the creek's mouth to safety. Only then did he turn to Rick."What happened?"
"Someone took two shots at me," Rick replied shakily. "And dollars todill pickles it was our pal Carrots, because I didn't hear the shots."
"That air rifle," Scotty said. His mouth tightened. "I can't wait toget my hands on that little playmate. Did he miss you by much?"
"About six inches. Both shots hit the same place, within an inch ofeach other."
Scotty frowned thoughtfully. "Then my guess is that he wasn't tryingto hit you. If he's good enough to place two shots like that, hewouldn't have any trouble picking you off. Did you see him?"
"No. I saw a window open just before I got down to look at the marks."
"Anything to them?"
"I don't know," Rick said. He was still a little shaken. "Listen, whatabout reporting this to the police?"
Scotty shook his head. "No proof. No witnesses. It would be your wordagainst his, because he could claim he was just target practicing andthat you weren't on the tower when he fired. He could even claim hedidn't fire the shots, because the slugs would be so spattered thatthe police couldn't make anything of them."
"I can see him laughing his head off," Rick said bitterly. "First,because of dumping the fish scoop, and now because he sent ushightailing out of there like a couple of frightened jack rabbits."
"It would have been stupid to stay and get shot at," Scotty pointedout. "Even if he is a good shot, he might accidentally clip you."
Rick had to admit the truth of that. "Just the same," he said, "we'regoing back and build a fire under Mister Carrots. Wait and see!"