Читать книгу The Ocean Wireless Boys And The Naval Code - Goldfrap John Henry - Страница 5

After supper Captain Simms suddenly announced that he wished to make a trip to the mainland to the town of Clayton. He wished to send an important telegram to Washington, he explained.

"How are you going?" asked Jack. "The hotel boat has stopped running for the day."

"I know that, but I'll go on the Skipjack. You lads want to come?"

"Do we? I should say we do."

"You lads must be full of springs from the way you're always jumping about," remarked Uncle Toby, with a smile, "but I suppose it's boy nature."

The run to the shore was made quickly. It seemed almost no time at all before they made out the string of lights that marked the pier and the radiance of the brilliantly lit hotel behind them. But as they were landing an unforeseen accident occurred. Mistaking his distance in the darkness, the captain neglected to shut off power soon enough, and the nose of the Skipjack bumped into the pier with great force. At the same time a splintering of wood was heard.

"Gracious, another wreck," exclaimed Jack.

"Wow! What a bump!" cried Noddy.

"Is it a bad smash?" asked Billy anxiously.

The captain was bending over the broken prow of the boat examining it by the white lantern.

"Bad enough to keep us here all night, I'm afraid," he said. "Do you boys mind? It looks to me as if it could soon be repaired in the morning, and the boat will be safe here to-night at any rate."

"It's too bad," exclaimed Jack. "We seem to be regular hoodoos on a boat."

"It was my own fault," said the captain, "but the lights on the pier dazzled me so that I miscalculated my distance."

"Well, it's a good thing no other harm was done," was Billy's comment.

The boat was tied up and the watchman on the dock given some money to keep an eye on it. They engaged rooms at the hotel, and while Captain Simms composed his telegram, the boys took a stroll about the grounds of the hostelry, which sloped down to the bay. They had about passed beyond the radiance of the lights of the hotel when Jack suddenly drew his companions' attention to a figure that was stealing through the darkness hugging a grove of trees. There was something indescribably furtive in the way the man crept along, half crouched and glanced behind him from time to time.

"A burglar?" questioned Billy.

"Some sort of crook I'll bet," exclaimed Noddy.

"He's up to some mischief or I'm much mistaken," said Jack, as he drew his companions back further into a patch of black shadow cast by some ornamental shrubs.

"Let's trail him and see what he's up to," said Noddy.

"Gracious, you're a regular Sherlock Holmes at the drop of the hat," laughed Billy. "What do you think, Jack?"

"I don't know. He's going toward the wharf and I don't see just what he could steal there."

"Look at him stop and glance all around him as if he was afraid of being followed," whispered Billy.

"That doesn't look like an honest man's action, certainly," agreed Jack. "Come on, boys; we'll see what's in the wind. Do you know, somehow I've got an idea that we've seen that fellow somewhere before."

"What gives you that impression?" asked Billy.

"I can't say – it's just a feeling I've got. An instinct I guess you might call it."

The three boys moved forward as stealthily as did the man whose actions had aroused their suspicions. Presently they saw him cut across a small patch of lawn and strike into a narrow path which led among some trees.

With every care to avoid making any noise, the three boys followed. The path led to the edge of a cliff, down the face of which a flight of stone steps ran down to the water's edge. The man descended these.

"What can he be? A smuggler," suggested Billy.

"I don't see any boat down there, if he is," rejoined Jack in low tones.

Suddenly a sharp, low exclamation came from Noddy, who had been looking out over the lake.

He caught Jack's arm and pointed.

"Look, boys, a yacht!" he breathed.

"Heading in this way, too," rejoined Jack. "It looks like – but no, it cannot be."

"Cannot be what?" asked Billy, caught by something in his companion's voice.

"Cannot be the Speedaway."

"Judson's craft, the one that ran us down? Nonsense, you've got Judson on the brain, Jack."

"Have I? Well, it's an odd coincidence, then, that the yacht yonder has a tear in her foresail exactly where our bowsprit tore the Speedaway's jib this afternoon."

"By hookey, you're right, Jack!" cried Noddy. "There may be more to this than we think."

Billy was peering from behind a bush over the edge of the cliff, which was not very high.

He could see below, the dark figure of a man making a black patch in the gloom upon the white beach. He was moving about and pacing nervously to and fro on the shingle as if awaiting something or somebody.

Suddenly he made a swift move.

"He's waving his handkerchief," whispered Billy to the others, as he saw the man make a signal with a square of white linen.

"To that yacht, I'll bet a cookie," exclaimed Noddy.

As if in answer to his words there suddenly showed, on the yacht, a red lantern, as if a scarlet eye had suddenly opened across the dark water.