CHAPTER XI.--SEVEN LEAGUE ISLAND.
"Pile in any old way and make yourselves as comfy as you can," saidBillie, from the chauffeur's seat, while seven boys and girls packedthemselves into "The Comet" as tightly as sardines in a box.
"Ben, I look to you to take good care of my girls," called Miss HelenCampbell, from the front door steps of her home. "And all of you promiseme three things: Don't go too fast; don't stay too late, and don't gotoo far."
"We promise," came eight voices in a chorus.
"Good-by, Cousin Helen, dearest," called Billie, kissing her handaffectionately to the little lady who was fast coming to fill an achingvoid in Billie's heart.
"Good-by, Miss Campbell," called the others, while she smiled and bowedand waved her handkerchief like a favorite actress before anenthusiastic audience.
What a difference the young people had made in her life, she thought, asthe carload of boys and girls flashed down the street and the sound oftheir talk and laughter, growing fainter and fainter, floated back toher like a pleasant memory.
It was a real seaside October day. Nothing could have been bluer thanthe bay, unless it was the sky. A warm, dry land breeze swept over themoors about West Haven. Wild asters and golden rod colored the roadside,and the stillness of Indian summer pervaded the whole country.
"There was no need of the top to-day," observed Billie, looking up atthe cloudless sky. "I am glad we decided not to put it on. We might aswell have left the rugs and wraps behind, too. They take up room andwon't be used, I am certain."
"I hope not," answered Ben. "I see only one cloud on the horizon andthat's no larger than a man's hand; but clouds do grow."
"Don't borrow trouble, Rain-in-the-Face," exclaimed Percy. "The lasttime you looked into the future we had a fire."
"All right, dummy," answered his friend. "I am not predicting anything.I only mentioned the possibilities of a very small cloud. And the nightof the Shell Island fire I said what certainly proved to be perfectlytrue--that the hotel was a regular fire trap."
"Are you really a good weather prophet, Ben?" asked Billie anxiously.She did not like to have her parties turn out disastrously.
"He--he's the poorest ever," cried Merry.
"Don't go on what he says, Billie," put in Percy. "The last camping tripwe went on, he predicted fair weather and it rained for a week."
"Well, just to prove that I know what I'm talking about," cried Ben, "Ipredict that it rains before night."
This unpopular prophecy was greeted by hoots of derision from theothers.
"What makes you think so, Ben?" asked Elinor. "It's as clear as a bellnow."
"Certain signs," he answered.
"Now, Ben Austen," ejaculated Nancy. "Don't go spoil our day before it'sbegun. You know just as well as I do that it's Indian summer, and itnever rains in Indian summer."
"Never, Miss Nancy-Bell?" repeated Ben, smiling. He minded as littlebeing teased by his friends as a big, good-natured dog minds the anticsof a lot of puppies.
"All right, Big Injun Ben," said Merry, "let it rain before night. We'vegot a good many hours to enjoy ourselves in and get home, too, beforedark. We'll be at the ferry-boat landing in an hour, and if we're luckyenough to catch the boat, we'll reach Seven League Island by eleveno'clock. That will give us plenty of time to eat everything in sight,see Smugglers' Cave, and all the other sights, and get home by seveno'clock."
"Of course, we can," replied Ben. "I was only teasing Percival AlgernonSt. Clair, because he hates the rain worse than poison. I never saw afiner day in my life."
"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Billie, in tones of relief. She really hadgreat faith in Ben's judgment about most things.
Seven League Island, a rocky strip of land some twenty-one miles long,was one of the most romantic places in the vicinity of West Haven. Itwas three miles from the mainland and, during the season when the summerresorts and camps which clustered on its shores were open, severalferry-boats carried passengers back and forth from the mainland to theisland. In winter the place was almost deserted. The land was too poorfor farming and few people cared to remain on that lonely, mournfulisland, where, in stormy weather, the waves thundered through the cavesin the cliffs, and the wind in the pine trees made a mournful sound likethe wail of a lost soul.
To-day, however, it was as serene and smiling as the Islands of theBlest. The southwest wind stirred the pine needles gently, making apleasant quiet song. The tiny waves, as they lapped the sides of theferry, gave out a "cloop, cloop" sound that still water makes againstthe bow of a canoe.
"What time does the last ferry go back, Captain?" asked Ben, of the oldferryman, whose face was as weather beaten and seamed as the hide of ahippopotamus.
"Six, in good weather."
"What time in bad?"
"Depends on the weather," answered the old man briefly.
"How many other ferry stations are there?" asked Charlie.
"Three."
"Good," exclaimed happy-go-lucky Americus Brown. "We'll take the onethat's nearest when the time comes to go back and ride before the wind,and beat the rain and put old Ben out of business as a weather prophet."
The ferryman said nothing, but his small eyes twinkled with amusement.
They were the only passengers on the boat that trip, and as the motorwhirled up the hard-beaten road from the ferry landing, they noticedthat the bungalows and summer cottages along the shore were closed forthe season.
"It's because it's so hard to get food," Percy explained. He had oncevisited some friends at Flag Point, the first settlement, and was to betheir guide this morning to the great cave, which had been used, it wassaid, in the days when smugglers were common in the land.
The others were familiar only with the shore, where they had come onbathing and fishing excursions, and the boys and girls were eager toexplore the rocky caverns, the fort, the little inlets, where pirateswere supposed to have anchored their ships, and above all the smugglers'cave, which Percy told them was a great vaulted chamber in the rocks,with an entrance no broader than a narrow door.
"Take the road going to the right," called Percy, as Billie paused atthe top of the cliff for directions. "It's the best one for motoring andit goes past the old rifle-pit where we can eat lunch. We can leave thecar there and climb down to the caves afterwards."
"The Comet" turned obediently to the right and shot down theinterminable expanse of empty white road, like a shooting star on themilky way.
Even Mary, who had been pale and silent all morning, regained herspirits on that glorious ride, when Merry, with head thrown back, beganto sing:
"The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be, Yo-ho, yo-ho-ho, yo-ho, yo-ho-ho!"
and she joined in the chorus with the others, her clear, sweet voicepiping out like the notes of a field lark in a chorus of birds.
At last Billie pulled up at the side of the road under a cliff, on topof which was an old grass-grown fort used during the Indian wars.
"This must be it," she said. "It's peaceful enough looking now to make agood picnicing ground, but I don't suppose it was much of a picnic forthe people who built it to shoot Indians from."
"Nor much of a picnic for the Indians, either," said Ben, helping Billieout while Charlie Clay assisted the other girls to the ground and Percyand Merry unstrapped the luncheon hamper.
"Let's eat up high," suggested Billie. "That is, if you can carry thebasket up that steep incline."
"The pack mules are here for that work," said Ben, pointing to Merry andPercy. "Charlie, you bring the rugs for the ladies to sit on and I'llhelp the ladies."
"Will you listen to Nervy Nat," cried Percy, as he obediently shoulderedhis end of the luncheon hamper and followed Merry up the hill.
How they laughed and scrambled and shoved as they clambered up thepebbly path. Once Mary, with a shrill cry, slipped and stumbled back onNancy who fell against Charlie, who, in his turn, tumbled against Ben,and that pillar of strength, grasping a branch of a pine tree with ea
chhand, supported the whole human weight without a tremor.
It was like picnicing in the tops of the trees, when they finally spreadthe cloth in the grass-grown enclosure of the fort, and beyond themstretched the entire expanse of the ocean glimmering blue in thesunshine, with an occasional ship outlined on the horizon.
"I hope the ginger ale is still cold," cried Merry.
"And the mayonnaise hasn't melted," said Nancy.
"What, nothing to eat but victuals and drink?" exclaimed Percy.
When they had waded through the piles of sandwiches and pyramids ofcake, and drained the last drop of ginger ale, silent Charlie, who hadan enormous appetite, remarked:
"How hungry this piney-salty combination does make a fellow!"
"Why, Charlie," said Billie, "don't say you are still hungry. You remindme of the elephant in Merry's song:
"'The elephant ate all night, The elephant ate all day, And feed as they would, as much as they could, The cry was still more hay.'"
Charlie pulled out his mouth organ and began to play such a rollickingdance tune that the boys and girls, almost before they knew it, weretwo-stepping over the grass as madly as a lot of wild young colts. ThenCharlie, seizing Mary about the waist and still playing vigorously onhis "harp," as it was called in that section, joined the dancershimself.
If they had not all of them been so absorbed in executing the Dutchtwirl, or racing over the ground like Cossack dancers on the RussianSteppes, they would have been somewhat disturbed to have seen a manpeering down at them from the top of a mound. He had crawled up thesteep incline and was lying flat on his stomach in the tall grass. Hisface is familiar enough to us by now, for he had only one eye, but thatone, like the eye of the three mythological witches, gleamed brilliantlyand wickedly and nothing escaped its range. He smiled as if he ratherenjoyed watching the dancers, and especially his one wicked eye followedthe movements of Ben and Charlie and Billie Campbell. Presently when thewhirling couples had tumbled breathlessly on the grass, fanningthemselves with their hats and Ben had called out: "We'd better begetting along now," the man slipped away as silently as a snake anddisappeared somewhere below.
"To the caves," cried Percy, as they gathered up the rugs and cushionsand hastened down the cliff to the motor.
"I suppose it's safe to leave 'The Comet' here without any one to lookafter him," Billie had observed, and the others had agreed that it was.
"As safe as on any other desert island," Ben had answered.
It seemed impossible that anything could happen in that lonely, quietplace, which was like a deserted paradise to the girls and boys thatbeautiful afternoon. There was nothing about the locality or the weatherto arouse uncomfortable suspicions. The patch of sky, which was revealedto them just overhead between the tall, straight pine trees, was like abeautiful deep blue canopy. Even the watchful Ben could not have toldthat the cloud, so short a time ago no larger than a man's hand, nowstretched itself across the horizon in a long, thick line of black.
"The caves are the most fun of all," said Percy, leading the way to thecliffs overlooking the ocean. "There are dozens of them, some little andsome very large. The lower ones fill up at high tide, but the upper onesare safe enough."
The cliff was honeycombed with small rocky chambers, and as theyclambered, Indian file, along the narrow path which nature had sothoughtfully cut in the rocks they heard the boom of the incoming tidethundering through the caves on the beach.
"I suppose people could live in these little caverns," Percy continued,"if it wasn't so all-fired lonely and inconvenient; but wait until yousee Smugglers' Cave. It has as many natural conveniences as a real housebuilt by human beings."
"Here it is," he cried at last, to the others who had run all the waydown a steep embankment to see this romantic place.
Certainly it might well have been a favorite spot for smugglers androbbers on the high seas. Too high for the tide to reach and still wellhidden from above by a thick growth of scrubby pine and oak trees, thecave was as secret and safe a place as could be imagined. Rock-hewnsteps led up from the smooth pebbly beach below and the curve of thecoast made a charming little haven for ships and a natural landing placefor small boats. The eight friends stood in a row on the beach.
"This is called 'Pirates' Cove,' you know," went on Percy. "They say thepirates used to anchor their ships in this little haven and come ashoreand have pirate tea parties on the beach."
"Here comes a sea rover now," called Merry, scanning the entrance to theharbor where a ship could be seen outlined against the blue.
"Oh, she isn't coming this way, Old Tar," answered Percy. "It's too latein the season, for yachts and ships rarely come in here unless there isa storm. There's nothing to come for and it takes them out of theircourse."
"She's headed this way," continued Merry, not taking any notice ofPercy's interruption, while he scanned the ship with his far-seeingsailor's eyes. "She's a brigantine, and she's making for this cove."
"Oh, well, what of it?" put in Billie. "Perhaps she is coming here forthe rest cure. But she doesn't interest me half as much as Smugglers'Cave. Let's not waste any more time here," and she ran up the steps,followed by the others.
The entrance to the cave had been as cleverly concealed as if nature hadconspired with the outlaws to provide them with a safe hiding place fortheir contraband goods. The steps appeared to lead to nothing more thana blank wall, but, following Percy around the edge of an enormous rockwhich, in ages past must have slipped its fastenings above, theypresently came to a narrow opening between the rock and the side of thecave, just large enough for a man to go through.
"The smugglers must have had to do up their bales of silk pretty flat toget them through here," said Ben, measuring the opening with hishandkerchief, as he stooped to keep from bumping his head on the top.
"How beautiful! How wonderful!" cried the four girls, when their eyeshad become used to the change from the brilliant sunlight outside to thesemi-twilight of the great vaulted chamber where they now foundthemselves.
"Now, I'll show you what a jim-dandy architect nature is," said Percy."Here's the bathroom. No hot water, of course, but a perfectly good tuband cold water always on tap."
He pointed out a natural basin, probably worn in the rocks by theconstant dripping of water from a spring that trickled down the wall ofthe cave.
"Here's the bedroom, that nice, comfortable shelf over there. Here'syour easy chair," he continued, showing them a curious formation ofrocks really resembling a big armchair with a high back.
"It's a rocky chair and not a rocking chair," observed Charlie, taking aseat and rising quite suddenly. "Nature is as mischievous as a littleboy if she is a good architect. Look at this," and he pointed to a verysharp, almost needle-like, piece of stone in one corner of the seat.
The others laughed gayly as they hurried after Percy and a hundredreverberating echoes startled them into silence.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have saved the most interesting sightfor the last. You are about to see the store-room of the smugglers." Heled the way down two steps into another chamber.
"By Jove!" he cried suddenly and stopped short.
"What is it?" exclaimed the others, peering over his shoulder into thedarkness.
"Don't you see?" he said, in a low voice. "They are still using it for astore-room."
They blinked their eyes with amazement, when presently there loomed upin the shadows a pile of long, flat packing boxes.
Ben lit a candle, which he had thoughtfully brought along in his coatpocket, and they examined the boxes, which crowded one entire end of thesmugglers' store-room.
"Will you look at this?" he called. "Elinor, you are in this."
Ben held the candle high and pointed to a sign on the nearest box, whichread: "Automobile Supplies--Butler Brothers--West Haven----"
"Why," cried Elinor, "you surely don't suppose Uncle Tom and UncleRichard could be storing their goods here, do you?"
No one answered h
er for a moment. Their thoughts were busy searching foran explanation to this strange discovery.
"Elinor," said Mary presently, "don't you remember what those men whoborrowed Billie's automobile said about killing every Butler in thecounty who interfered?"
"Yes," said Elinor, in a frightened voice, "but what could these boxeshave to do with it?"
"They may have a great deal," said Ben. "Those men are probablysmuggling your uncles' auto supplies out of the country. The boxes aresmuggled up to this cave by degrees, I suppose, and then loaded on someship when they have got enough to make it worth while. And, if it's thesame man we had dealings with that night, he is a pretty desperate kindof an individual."
"I don't want any more fights," exclaimed Billie. "Both of those mencarried pistols and knives; I suppose all first-class smugglers do, butI don't propose that my party is going to be ruined by any bloodshed. Itis getting late, and we had better be going."
They quite agreed with Billie, although the boys would have liked tolinger in the Smugglers' Cave for a while.
The outer air seemed very warm and oppressive after the cold dampatmosphere of the cave. They blinked their eyes and shivered as theyhurried along the path which led to the road and in the change from darkto light they did not at first notice that the sun was hidden by a greatcloud, as black as ink, which stretched from horizon to horizon. A hot,heavy wind stirred the pine needles and that sense of impending troublewhich always comes before a great storm sobered the spirits of the boysand girls.
Nobody spoke of the cloud. It seemed to be a question of honor with themnot to mention it, but they hurried on silently, and in a few minutesreached the automobile.
With a sigh of relief, the four girls were about to jump in, while Bencranked up, when suddenly Nancy gave a little, pent-up scream.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to a piece of paper stuck on the cushion ofthe back seat.
This message was printed with a lead pencil on the paper:
"He laughs best who laughs last."
"It was that man," said Billie, examining the tires ruefully, each oneof which had been slashed with a sharp knife.