“I’ll take a stroll around after dinner and look at the weather,” saidNat. “If it isn’t too rough we can run over in the _Nomad_, but afterall, possibly it would be just as effective to call up Ding-dong and lethim communicate with the authorities.”
While Joe and Nate washed dishes and otherwise set things to rights, Natstarted out on his tramp. It was still raining hard and blowing harder,with a nasty, choppy gray sea running.
“Pretty dusty,” commented Nate, looking out of the window on the drearyseascape.
But within the shanty all was snug and warm and cheerful, and when Natreturned in half an hour or so, he found a picture of comfort awaitinghim. He divested himself of his wet oilskins and heavy boots before hespoke, and then he had some remarkable news to impart.
“There’s a small schooner of not more than thirty-five or forty tonsanchored off the southerly end of the island,” he said.
Nate looked up instantly. It was clear that to his seaman’s mind thenews was puzzling.
“What in the world will she be anchored there for?” he asked in anastonished voice. “If she’s hove to to ride out the storm, why doesn’tshe come into the cove?”
“Just what puzzled me,” said Nat. “I watched her from behind some sanddunes, but not a sign of life could I see on her decks. She looks like afishing schooner, and yet there are no dories piled up on her deck,which makes it look all the more odd.”
“They’ve let go the anchor with all sails set,” murmuredNate, “and they dropped that mudhook like a cat stalking mice.”—_Page232._]
“It does that,” agreed Nate; “and anyhow, fishermen wouldn’t heave tofor this bit of a blow.”
“I’ll tell you what, Nate,” said Nat presently, “suppose you go and takea look at her. Then come back and tell us how you size her up. You’resailorman enough to know a craft by the cut of her jib, and maybe youwill know what vessel this is.”
“All right,” assented Nate cheerfully. “I’ll slip into my oilers, getaround there and be back in two shakes of a duck’s tail.”
“And, oh, Nate, don’t show yourself if you can help it. There’s plentyof cover behind the salt grass that grows on the dunes.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Nate assured him, “I’ll be as invisible asMort Kennedy, who owes me ten dollars, is every payday.”
The sturdy fellow strode out into the storm, leaving the two boys alone.
“Are you troubled because that fishing schooner is lying to off theisland?” asked Joe, as Nate slammed the door behind him.
“Frankly, I don’t quite like the look of it,” rejoined Nat; “if she islying to because of the storm, the cove is the natural place for her toseek shelter and not the open sea.”
“That’s right, it _has_ a funny look. Say, Nat, you don’t think that oldIsrael Harley can be on board, do you?”
“I don’t know, Joe; I don’t know what to think. He is a daring oldvillain, and he has no reason to love us. After what Hank told youyesterday, it behooves us to be on the watch constantly. Till thatschooner goes away, we can’t leave the island.”
“Then I’d better send a flash to Ding-dong. I wonder if his station isworking yet?”
“It ought to be, but in that case I should think he’d have given us acall.”
“Well, we can try it, anyhow. Come on down to the hut while I get busywith the instruments.”
The two boys tried for a long time to raise Ding-dong, sending out thecall “_D-B_,” the prearranged signal, incessantly. But no answer camefor a long time, and when it did it was hardly satisfactory. It was fromthe Santa Barbara operator, who had been listening in.
He cut into Joe’s waves with a sharp summons for “_G. I._”
“_Right here_,” flashed back Joe eagerly, thinking that it might beDing-dong at last. He was soon undeceived.
“_This is station O at Santa Barbara talking_,” came through the air tothe Motor Rangers’ aerials. “_You been trying to get young Bell’sstation?_”
“_Yes, what’s the trouble?_” inquired Joe.
“_I don’t know exactly, but something was the matter with his wavelengths this morning. He was trying to get you, but couldn’t succeed.But he reached me all right and left a message for you fellows._”
“_A message? What is it?_” flashed back Joe.
“_Here it is,—all ready?_”
“_Go ahead._”
“_Dear Nat and Joe. Don’t worry. I have left Santa Barbara on a hotclew to you know who. I expect to recover everything beforenight.—Ding-dong._”
“We-el, what do you know about that?” gasped Nat, as Joe said“_Good-bye_” and cut off.
“That kid is off along the trail of trouble again as sure as you are afoot high,” exclaimed Joe. “Now what are we going to do? Where do yousuppose he’s gone?”
“Looks a good deal as if he might have found out something about Minory,doesn’t it, and is anxious to keep all the credit of recovering theplans and the models to himself,” commented Nat.
“But in that case he may run into grave danger,” protested Joeexcitedly. “That fellow wouldn’t stop at a trifle. What are we going todo about it, Nat?”
“There’s only one thing to be done now,” declared Nat.
“And that is?”
“Raise Santa Barbara, notify the authorities of the place where wesuspect Minory may be found, and let them take after him. If Ding-donghas gone to the right place, they may arrive in time to get him out oftrouble. If he’s gone somewhere else, why, I don’t see that there’sanything we can do but hope for the best.”
“That’s about all,” said Joe, as he turned to his instruments. At thatmoment the door was flung open and in came Nate with a burst of rain andwind at his back.
“That feller off the point is no fisherman,” he declared positively. “Ithink that it’s up to us to keep our weather eyes open to-night.”
“For what?” asked Joe, as he tapped out the Santa Barbara call.
“For trouble,” was the brief reply. “Got any shootin’ irons on theisland?”
“Only an old revolver,” said Nat. “We’ve never needed them.”
“S’pose you’ve heard about the cowpuncher,” said Nate dryly. “He hadnever needed a revolver for forty years, but when he did need it, heneeded it _durn bad_!”
“And you think that is our position?” asked Nat.
“I ain’t saying,” was the response; “but that schooner’s got otherbusiness off this island than riding out this ten-cent blow.”
CHAPTER XXIV.
WHAT JOE DID.
Joe raised Santa Barbara and flashed out the news which he wantedtransmitted to the local authorities. In a short time a word of thankscame back and positive assurance that they would set out without delayfor the Dolliver ranch. Nat and Joe felt somewhat relieved at this. Theyknew only too well Ding-dong’s proclivities for getting into trouble,and if he was off after Minory by himself he had done a peculiarlyfool-hardy thing.
“We’ve done all we can, anyhow,” said Nat, “and now the best thing toturn our minds to, is that schooner. I think there is not much doubt nowthat she is here to do harm to us.”
“All the indications point that way,” agreed Joe.
Twice during the afternoon Nate tramped down to the point to see if theschooner was still hove to, and both times he returned with the reportthat she was still in the same position, although the rain flaws wereblowing over the ocean so thickly that at times it was hard to make herout.
Not until the evening meal had been despatched was anything said aboutlaying out the work for the night. It was Nat who broached the subject.
“Joe,” he said, “it has just occurred to me that something may be knownof this schooner in Santa Barbara. Suppose you connect with the operatorthere and see if you can get hold of old Captain Merryweather. He’s asort of port official and should know if this schooner left thererecently.”
“That’s a
good idea,” indorsed Joe; “but in the meanwhile what will yoube doing, for I see that you have some plan in your head?”
“Well, this is the way I’ve figured it out,” said Nat. “If the folks onthat schooner mean to make a landing to-night, depend upon it they’llcome ashore in the cove.”
“Not a doubt of it,” struck in Nate.
“With the sea that is running, there’s not another place on the islandwhere they could land. Within the cove, however, is quiet water and aneasy sloping beach to run a boat ashore.”
“Then you think the schooner is still there, Nat?” asked Joe.
“Not a doubt of it in my mind. However, I mean to make sure in a veryshort time. Nate, I want you to go down to the point and see what youcan make out of the suspicious craft. I’ll go down to the cove and turnthe skiff over to make a shelter. You can report back to me there. Joewill remain by the wireless till he gets some reply to his message toCaptain Merryweather. Then he’ll join us there, too, unless somethingnew and unexpected has turned up by that time.”
Joe would much rather have accompanied Nat, but he said nothing andturned cheerfully to his duty. Like Ding-dong, he had grown accustomedto look upon Nat as a leader, and he obeyed unhesitatingly his orders.Nat and Nate trudged out into the storm and Joe seated himself at theapparatus to carry out his appointed task.
The operator was able to inform him that the authorities had already setout for the Dolliver ranch, and that he would keep him posted as tofurther developments. Joe then transmitted his message to CaptainMerryweather. This done, he disconnected and sat down to await a reply.
Above him he could hear the wind screaming and screeching through theaerials and the steady downpour of the rain on the roof. It seemedhours, and was, in reality, about an hour and a half, before he got areply to his message.
“_Captain Merryweather has learned that a small schooner put into SantaBarbara last night_,” was the dispatch. “_She must have left some timebefore dawn. A dockman reports that he saw three strange men being rowedout to her in a dory a short time before she sailed. That is all he canfind out._”
“Three men; that sounds like old Captain Israel and his two sons,” musedJoe, as he cut off. “The schooner may either belong to them or to someof their friends; it’s hard telling, but at any rate CaptainMerryweather’s information sounds important. I’ll hurry down to Nat withit.”
He extinguished the light and slipped out into the storm. He half ran,half stumbled to the cove, filled with the importance of his mission.But somewhat to his alarm, there was no Nat and no Nate there. Joe beganto feel seriously uneasy. It was not like Nat to fail to be at the placehe had appointed for a meeting, more particularly as Joe knew his chumwould be waiting for a reply to the Santa Barbara message with someanxiety.
However, there was nothing for it but to wait, and Joe, with whatresignation he could muster, sat down in the dark under the shelter ofthe dory, while about him the storm raged and howled. Under the upturnedboat he was snug and dry, and if he could have lighted a fire ofdriftwood he would have been quite warm. But he knew that was out of thequestion. To do such a thing would be to betray at once that they wereon the watch.
Presently there came the sound of hurrying footsteps on the sand. Joe’sheart gave a quick leap, but the next instant he was reassured. It wasNat and Nate.
“Where have you been?” asked Joe anxiously. “You gave me a fine scarewhen I came down here and found you gone. I thought old Israel must havekidnapped you again.”
“I’ve been down to the point with Nate,” rejoined Nat. “The schooner hasjust got under way. From her tactics we both believe that she is headinground for the cove.”
“Wow! It looks like trouble then.”
“I’m afraid so. No vessel would lie to in an open roadstead all day andthen run into a sheltered cove at night unless she wished the cover ofdarkness for her work, whatever it is.”
“Humph, I haven’t much doubt what that work is,” grunted Natelaconically.
“Heard from Santa Barbara?” inquired Nat of Joe, as he and Nate joinedhim under the boat.
“Yes; that’s what brought me down here. A small schooner answering thedescription of the one that lay at anchor all day off the island leftthe port last night after taking on three men.”
“Three men; that surely sounds like old Israel and his two precioussons.”
“That is what I thought. It clinches the matter in my mind.”
“Coupled with the actions of the schooner, I’ve reached the sameconclusion,” said Nat.
“How long will it take the schooner to get around here, do you think?”asked Joe presently.
“Oh, quite a while yet,” responded Nate. “She’s got to beat up againstthe wind and take several tacks to make it.”
“To my mind that fact again puts this up to Harley,” said Nat. “He knowsthis island like a book, Nate says, and could get into the cove at anyhour of the day or night. A stranger would never take a chance onrunning in in the dark.”
“Particularly on a night like this,” said Joe, as a long, shudderingblast of wind swept over the upturned boat.
Nat crept out from the shelter and made his way toward the cove. He wasback in a short time with information that thrilled them all.
“The schooner is coming into the cove,” he announced in a tense voice.
“Now the show is a-goin’ to begin to commence,” muttered Nate under hisbreath. “Better get that gun of yours, Nat. Joe and I will do the bestwe can with our fists and oars in case there’s a scrimmage.”
CHAPTER XXV.
LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT.
The wind was dropping, and against the scurrying clouds, behind whichshone a pale and sickly moon, they could see outlined a pyramid ofcanvas—the schooner!
“Don’t talk more than you have to,” said Nat, who had secured hisfirearm and brought oars for Joe and Nate. “If they come ashore, justfollow them without exposing yourselves to view. There’s a chance thatthey may, after all, be honest fishermen, and we don’t want to attackthe wrong men.”
“That chance is a pretty long one, I’m after thinking,” said Nate underhis breath.
“We’ll see how they come to anchor,” he said presently. “If they let gotheir mudhook with a rush and a rattle, it may be that they are allright. But if they sneak in and let it go easy so as not to alarmanybody, why, then, it’ll look as if we’ve had ’em sized up right.”
The watchers crawled out and made their way through the spiky grassalong one arm of the cove. They gained a point where it was possibleeven in the darkness to see the tall spars of the schooner and the blackbulk of her canvas as, noiselessly as a phantom craft, she glided intothe cove. Suddenly her “way” was checked and she came to a stop with allher canvas still standing.
“They’ve let go the anchor with all the sails set,” murmured Nate, “andthey dropped that mudhook like a cat stalking mice. I reckon they’rehonest fishermen—not. That’s a regular smuggler’s trick, that is, allright.”
“Why don’t they lower the sails?” was Joe’s not unnatural question.
“’Cos they don’t want the rattling of the blocks and the cordage to beheard,” rejoined Nate. “Seein’ no lights up above, I suppose they’vefigured that we are all asleep and dreaming. But we ain’t, not by ajugful,” he chuckled.
Then came the sound of oars as they creaked in the rowlocks of a smallboat. Joe’s heart beat wildly with excitement, and even Nat felt athrill, as there no longer remained any doubt that hostile men wereabout to land on the island. When Hank had told Joe the day before ofold Israel’s plans of vengeance, he had not taken them very seriously.Now, however, they faced the fact, and faced it to all intents andpurposes unarmed.
“Lie down,” ordered Nat, as the sound of the oarsmen became moredistinct; “we don’t want them to see us yet.”
They all threw themselves flat amidst the spiky dune-grass and waitedfor what was to come. P
resently they saw a small boat grounded on thebeach, and five men leaped out. They grouped themselves about onefigure, which Nat instinctively felt must be that of old Israel himself.
At any rate, he appeared to be giving orders to the others. The groupsplit up. Two of the men started in the direction of the shanty, whilethree, including the one suspected to be old Israel, set out to thesouthward.
“Now what in the name of time does that mean?” demanded Nate in anastonished voice.
“It means that our job is just twice as hard,” rejoined Nat. “I can’tmake out myself exactly the object of it, but I reckon we shan’t be longin finding out.”
“We’d better follow them,” suggested Nate.
“Yes, we had better. Nate, you take the two men that went toward thehut. Joe and I will trail that group of three.”
“All right, Nat; and say, if you’re in trouble, just fire a shot fromthat shootin’ iron of yours and I’ll come on the jump.”
“All right, Nate, I won’t forget. We might need you badly in case of amix-up.”
“You can sure count on me,” the sturdy waterman assured them.
Then they parted, Nate striking off toward the shanty, whither two ofthe strangers had preceded him, and Nat and Joe taking the trail afterthe trio, one of which they firmly believed was none other than oldIsrael himself.
Through the darkness they made the best speed they could after the oldsmuggler and his two sons, for they now knew by the sound of the voicesthat had been flung back to them on the wind that their surmise had beencorrect. It was old Harley himself and his rascally offspring who hadlanded on Goat Island under the cover of night.