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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28849-8.txt b/28849-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..724bb9c --- /dev/null +++ b/28849-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7611 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Smugglers' Reef, by John Blaine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Smugglers' Reef + +Author: John Blaine + +Release Date: May 16, 2009 [EBook #28849] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + [Illustration: MAP OF SMUGGLERS' REEF AND VICINITY] + + + A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY + + + + SMUGGLERS' + + REEF + + + + + BY JOHN BLAINE + + + + GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS + + NEW YORK, N. Y. + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1950, BY + + GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC. + + * * * * * + + + + +Contents + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I NIGHT ASSIGNMENT 1 + +II CAP'N MIKE 11 + +III THE REDHEADED KELSOS 22 + +IV A WARNING 33 + +V THE MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL 43 + +VI THE _Albatross_ 53 + +VII SEARCH FOR A CLUE 63 + +VIII THE OLD TOWER 70 + +IX NIGHT WATCH 82 + +X CAPTURED 93 + +XI THE HEARING 100 + +XII THE MISSING FISHERMAN 107 + +XIII THE TRACKER 118 + +XIV CAPTAIN KILLIAN 125 + +XV PLIMSOLL MARKS 137 + +XVI NIGHT FLIGHT 151 + +XVII ENTER THE POLICE 162 + +XVIII BRENDAN'S MARSH 172 + +XIX THE FIGHT AT CREEK HOUSE 188 + +XX READ ALL ABOUT IT! 201 + + * * * * * + + + + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +CHAPTER I + +Night Assignment + + +"Adventure," Rick Brant said, "is kind of hard to define, because what +may be adventure to one person may be commonplace to another." He took +a bite of cake and stretched his long legs comfortably. "Now, you take +flying with Scotty. That's the most adventurous thing I do." + +Mr. and Mrs. Brant and Jerry Webster looked at Don Scott, the object +of Rick's jibe, and waited for his reply. Verbal warfare between the +two boys was a usual feature of the evening discussions on the big +front porch of the Brant home on Spindrift Island. + +Scotty, a husky, dark-haired boy, grinned lazily. "You've proved your +own point," he returned. "Flying with me is adventure to you but safe +travel to anyone else. I'd say the most adventurous thing you do is +drive a car." + +Mrs. Brant, an attractive, motherly woman, poured another cup of +coffee for Jerry Webster. The young reporter had started the +discussion by stating wistfully that he wished he could share in some +of the Brant adventures. "Why do you call Rick's driving +adventurous?" she asked. + +"The dictionary says so," Scotty replied. "One definition of adventure +is 'a remarkable experience.'" + +Hartson Brant, Rick's scientist father, grinned companionably at his +son. "I agree with Scotty. Not only is Rick's driving a remarkable +experience, but it fits the rest of the definition: 'The encountering +of risks; hazardous enterprise.'" + +Jerry Webster rose to Rick's defense. "Oh, I don't know. Rick always +gets there." + +"Sure he does," Scotty agreed. "Of course his passengers always have +nervous breakdowns, but he gets there." + +Rick just grinned. He felt wonderful tonight. When you came right down +to it, there was nothing that matched being at home with the family in +the big house on Spindrift Island. The famous island off the New +Jersey coast was home for the scientific foundation that his father +headed, and for the scientist members. It was home for Scotty, too, +and had been since the day he had rescued Rick from danger, as told in +_The Rocket's Shadow_. As junior members of the foundation, Rick and +Scotty had been included in a number of experiments and expeditions. +Rick wouldn't have missed a one of them, and if opportunity offered he +would go again with just as much eagerness. But it was nice to return +to familiar surroundings between trips. More than once, during lonely +nights in far places, his thoughts had turned to evenings just like +this one with the family and perhaps a close friend like Jerry +gathered on the porch after dinner. + +Rick, Scotty, and Barbara Brant had only recently returned from the +South Pacific where they had vacationed aboard the trawler _Tarpon_ +and had solved the mystery of _The Phantom Shark_. Barby had gone off +to summer boarding school in Connecticut a few days later. Chahda, the +Hindu boy who had been with the Brants since the Tibetan radar relay +expedition described in _The Lost City_, had said good-bye to the +group at New Caledonia and had returned to India. The scientists, +Zircon, Weiss, and Gordon, were away doing research. + +Suddenly Rick chuckled. "Speaking of adventure, I'll bet the biggest +adventure Barby had on our whole trip to the Pacific was eating +_rosette sauté_ at the governor's in Noumea." + +"What's that?" Jerry asked. + +"Bat," Scotty replied. "A very large kind of fruit bat. Barby thought +it was wonderful until she found out what it was." + +"I should think so!" Mrs. Brant exclaimed. + +"It tasted good," Rick said. "Something like chicken livers." He +grinned. "Anyway, I sympathized with Barby. I felt kind of funny +myself when I found out what it was." + +Hartson Brant, an older edition of his athletic son, looked at the boy +reflectively. He knocked ashes from his pipe. "Seems to me you've been +pretty quiet since you got back, Rick. Lost your taste for excitement? +Or are you working on something?" + +"Working," Rick said. "We scientists must never rest. We must labor +always to push back the frontiers of ignorance." He put a hand on his +heart and bowed with proper dramatic modesty. "I am working on an +invention that will startle the civilized world." + +"We will now bow our heads in reverent silence while the master tells +all," Scotty intoned. + +"I know," Jerry guessed. "You're working on a radar-controlled lawn +mower so you can cut the grass while you sit on the porch." + +"That's too trivial for a junior genius like Rick," Scotty objected. +"He's probably working on a self-energizing hot dog that lathers +itself with mustard, climbs into a bun, and then holds a napkin under +your chin while you eat it." + +"Not a bad idea," Rick said soberly. "But that isn't it." + +"Of course not," Hartson Brant put in. "You see, I happen to know what +it is, due to a little invention of my own--an electronic mind +reader." + +Scotty gulped. "You didn't tell Mom what happened to those two pieces +of butterscotch pie, did you? I wanted her to blame it on Rick." + +Rick asked unbelievingly, "An electronic mind reader? All right, Dad, +what am I working on?" + +"A device to penetrate the darkness." + +Rick stared. His father had scored a hit. He demanded, "How did you +know?" + +"My new invention," Hartson Brant said seriously. "Oh, and one other +clue. Yesterday morning the mail brought me a bill for a thousand feet +of 16-millimeter infrared motion-picture film." + +So that was it. Rick grinned. "I hope your new invention told you I +asked the film company to send the bill to me and not to you." + +"It did. The bill actually was addressed to the Spindrift Foundation, +attention Mr. Brant. Since I didn't know which Mr. Brant was meant, I +opened it. Don't worry, Rick. I'll let you pay it." + +"Thanks, Dad," Rick said. "But don't make any sacrifices. You can pay +it if you want to." + +"Don't want to," Hartson Brant replied. "I haven't the slightest use +for motion-picture film." + +"Because Rick has the only motion-picture camera on the island," +Scotty finished. He frowned at his friend. "Keeping secrets, huh?" + +"I'm not sure it will work," Rick explained. He hated to brag about an +idea and then have it turn out to be a dud. Consequently, he seldom +mentioned that he was working on anything until he knew it would be +successful. + +"What does the film have to do with penetrating the darkness?" Jerry +Webster inquired. + +Rick caught the look of interest on his father's face. "Ask Dad," he +said. "The electronic mind reader probably has told him all about it." + +"Of course." The scientist chuckled. "Rick is planning to take movies +at night without lights." + +Jerry looked skeptical. "How?" + +Rick stood up. "Long as we've started talking about it, I may as well +show you." + +The others rose, too. As they did so, a shaggy little dog crawled from +under Rick's chair where he had been napping. + +"Dismal and I will put the cake away," Mrs. Brant said. + +At the sound of his name the pup rolled over on his back and played +dead, his only trick. Rick bent and scratched his ribs in the way the +pup liked best. "Go with Mom," he commanded. "Come on, the rest of +you. Maybe I can get some free advice from the director of the +Spindrift Foundation." + +Hartson Brant smiled. "If you're looking for a technical consultant, +Rick, my price is very reasonable." + +"It would have to be," Rick admitted ruefully. "I've spent my entire +fortune on this thing." + +"The whole dollar," Scotty added. + +The boys' rooms were on the second floor in the north wing of the big +house. But where Scotty's was usually neat as a barracks squad room, +the result of his service in the Marines, Rick's was usually a clutter +of apparatus. Living on Spindrift Island with the example of his +father and the other scientists to follow, it was natural that he +should be interested in science. He was more fortunate than most boys +with such an interest, because he was permitted to use the laboratory +apparatus freely and his part-time work as a junior technician gave +him spending money with which to buy equipment. Another source of +revenue was his little two-seater plane. He was the island's fast +ferry service to the mainland. + +His room was neater than usual at the moment because he had not +bothered to connect most of his apparatus after returning from the +South Pacific. The induction heater that he used for midnight snacks +was in a closet. His automatic window opener was not in use, nor was +his amateur radio transmitter. + +He opened a workbench built into one wall and brought out a +motion-picture camera. It was a popular make with a type of lens mount +that permitted fast switching of lenses. It used one-hundred-foot +rolls of 16-millimeter film. He put the camera on the table, then from +a cupboard he brought out what appeared to be a searchlight mounted on +top of a small telescope. + +"That's a sniperscope!" Scotty exclaimed. + +Rick nodded. + +"No reason why it shouldn't work very well, Rick," Hartson Brant said. + +Jerry Webster sighed. "Excuse my ignorance. What's a sniperscope?" + +"They were used during the last war," Scotty explained. He picked up +the unit and pointed to the light, which was about the size and shape +of a bicycle head lamp. "This searchlight throws a beam of black +light. Rick would call it infrared. Anyway, it's invisible. The +telescope is actually a special telescopic rifle sight which will pick +up infrared. You can use the thing in total darkness. Mount it on a +rifle and then go looking for the enemy. Since he can't see the +infrared, he thinks he's safe. But you can see him through the 'scope +just as though he had a beam of white light on him." + +"I see," Jerry said. "Where are the batteries?" + +Rick brought out a canvas-covered case that looked like a knapsack. It +had a crank on one side and a pair of electrical connections. "It's +not a battery," he explained. "It's a small, spring-driven dynamo." + +Jerry nodded. "I get it now. You rig this thing on the camera, which +is loaded with infrared film. The film registers whatever the infrared +searchlight illuminates. Right?" + +"That's the idea," Hartson Brant agreed. "But it isn't as simple as +that, is it, Rick?" + +"Far from it. I have to determine the effective range, then I have to +run a couple of tests to find out what exposure I have to use, and +then I have to find the field of vision of the telescope as compared +with the field of the lens. A lot depends on the speed of the film +emulsion. That will limit the range. The searchlight is effective at +eight hundred yards, but I'll be lucky if I can get a picture at a +quarter of that." + +"Where did you get the sniperscope?" Scotty wanted to know. + +"By mail. I read an ad in a magazine that advertised a lot of surplus +war equipment, including this." + +"You might have said something about it," Scotty reproached. + +Rick grinned. "You were too busy working on the motorboats. I knew you +couldn't have two things on your mind at once." + +Since the boys returned from vacation, Scotty had been overhauling the +engines on the two motorboats which were used, along with Rick's +plane, for communication with Whiteside, the nearest town on the +mainland. + +"I have a book downstairs that you'll find useful, Rick," Hartson +Brant said. "It gives the comparative data on lenses. It may save you +some figuring." + +"Thanks, Dad," Rick replied. "I may have to ask your help in working +out the mathematics, too. Anyway...." He stopped as the phone rang. + +In a moment Mrs. Brant called. "Jerry, it's your paper." + +"Something must have popped!" Jerry ran for the door. + +Rick hurried after him, Scotty and the scientist following. The +Whiteside _Morning Record_, for which Jerry worked, must have had +something important come up to phone Jerry on his night off. + +In the library, Jerry picked up the phone. "Webster. Oh, hello, Duke. +Where? Well, why can't one of the other guys cover it? Okay, I'll be +on my way in a minute. How about a photographer? Hold the phone. I'll +ask him." He turned to Rick. "Duke wants to know if you can take your +camera and cover a story with me. A trawler went ashore down at +Seaford." + +Rick nodded quick assent. The little daily paper had only one +photographer, who evidently wasn't available. It wouldn't be the first +time he had taken pictures for Duke Barrows, the paper's editor. + +"He'll do it. We're on our way." Jerry hung up. "Have to work fast," +he said. "We start printing the paper at midnight." + +"It's nine now," Scotty said. + +Rick ran upstairs and opened the case containing his speed graphic, +checking to be sure he had film packs and bulbs, then he snapped the +case shut and hurried downstairs with it. Jerry and Scotty were +waiting at the door. + +"Don't stay out too late," Mrs. Brant admonished. + +Dismal whined to be taken along. + +"Sorry, boy." Rick patted the pup. "We'll be home early, Mom. Want to +come along, Dad?" + +"Not tonight, thanks," the scientist replied. "I'll take advantage of +the quiet to catch up on my reading." + +In a moment the three boys were hurrying toward the hook-shaped cove +in which the motorboats were tied up. Although Spindrift Island was +connected to the mainland at low tide by a rocky tidal flat, there was +no way for a car to cross. The cove was reached by a flight of stairs +leading down from the north side of the island. Elsewhere, the island +dropped away in cliffs of varying heights and steepness to the +Atlantic. + +They ran down the stairs and got into the fastest of the two boats, a +slim speedboat built for eight passengers. Rick handed Scotty his +camera case and slid in behind the wheel. While Jerry cast off, he +started the engine and warmed it for a moment. Then as Jerry pushed +the craft away from the pier, he backed out expertly, spun the boat +around, and roared off in the direction of the Whiteside landing. + +"Let's have the story," Scotty shouted above the engine's roar. + +"A fishing trawler from Seaford ran aground," Jerry shouted in reply. +"Duke figures it's an unusual story because those skippers have been +going out of Seaford for a hundred years without an accident. There's +no reason why one of them should run onto well-charted ground in clear +weather." + +Scotty squinted at the sky. "It's not exactly clear weather. There's a +moon just coming up, but it's kind of hazy out." + +"Yes, but you couldn't call it bad weather, either," Jerry pointed +out. "Not from a seaman's viewpoint, anyway." + +"Where did this trawler run aground?" Rick asked. + +"Arm of land that extends out into the sea above Seaford," Jerry +replied. "It's called Smugglers' Reef." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +Cap'n Mike + + +Jerry's car was an old sedan that had seen better days, but it could +still cover ground at a good speed. The macadam highway unrolled +before the bright head lamps at a steady rate while the beams +illumined alternate patches of woods and small settlements. + +There were no major towns between Whiteside and Seaford, but there +were a number of summer beach colonies, most of them in an area about +halfway between the two towns. The highway was little used. Most +tourists and all through traffic preferred the main trunk highway +leading southward from Newark. They saw only two other cars during the +short drive. + +Many months had passed since Rick's last visit to Seaford. He had gone +there on a Sunday afternoon to try his hand at surf casting off +Million Dollar Row, a stretch of beach noted for its huge, abandoned +hotels. It was a good place to cast for striped bass during the right +season. + +"Smugglers' Reef," he said aloud. "Funny that a Seaford trawler +should go ashore there. It's the best-known reef on the coast." + +"Maybe the skipper was a greenhorn," Scotty remarked. + +"Not likely," Jerry said. "In Seaford the custom is to pass fishing +ships down from father to son. There hasn't been a new fishing family +there for the past half century." + +"You seem to know a lot about the place," Rick remarked. + +"I go down pretty often. Fish makes news in this part of the country." + +Scotty pointed to a sign as they sped over a wooden bridge. "Salt +Creek." + +Rick remembered. Salt Creek emptied into the sea on the north side of +Smugglers' Reef. It was called Salt Creek because the tide backed up +into it beyond the bridge they had just crossed. He had caught crabs +just above the bridge. But between the road and the sea there was over +a quarter mile of tidal swamp, filled with rushes and salt-marsh +grasses through which the creek ran. At the edge of the swamp where +Salt Creek met Smugglers' Reef stood the old Creek House, once a +leading hotel, now an abandoned relic. + +A short distance farther on, a road turned off to the left. A +weathered sign pointed toward Seaford. In a few moments the first +houses came into view. They were small, and well kept for the most +part. Then the sedan rolled into the town itself, down the single +business street which led to the fish piers. + +A crowd waited in front of the red-brick town hall. Jerry swung into +the curb. "Let's see what's going on." + +Rick got his camera from the case, inserted a film pack, and stuffed a +few flash bulbs into his pocket. Then he hurried up the steps of City +Hall after Jerry and Scotty. Men, a number of them with the weathered +faces of professional fishermen, were talking in low tones. A few +looked at the boys with curiosity. + +An old man with white hair and a strong, lined face was seated by the +door, whittling on an elm twig. Jerry spoke to him. + +"Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what's going on?" + +Keen eyes took in the three boys. "I can. Any reason why I should?" +The old man's voice held the twang peculiar to that part of the New +Jersey coast. + +"I'm a reporter," Jerry said. "Whiteside _Morning Record_." + +The old man spat into the shrubbery. "Going to put in your paper that +Tom Tyler ran aground on Smugglers' Reef, hey? Well, you can put it +in, boy, because it's true. But don't make the mistake of calling Tom +Tyler a fool, a drunkard, or a poor seaman, because he ain't any of +those things." + +"How did it happen?" Jerry asked. + +"Reckon you better ask Tom Tyler." + +"I will," Jerry said. "Where will I find him?" + +"Inside. Surrounded by fools." + +Jerry pushed through the door, Rick and Scotty following. Rick's quick +glance took in the people waiting in the corridor, then shifted to a +young woman and a little girl. The woman's face was strained and +white, and she stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes. The little +girl, a tiny blonde perhaps four years old, held tightly to her +mother's hand. + +Rick had a hunch. He stopped as Jerry and Scotty hurried down the +corridor to where voices were loud through an open door. "Mrs. Tyler?" +he asked. + +The woman's head lifted sharply. Her eyes went dark with fear. "I +can't tell you anything," she said in a rush. "I don't know anything." +She dropped her head again and her hand tightened convulsively on the +little girl's. + +"Sorry," Rick said gently. He moved along the corridor, very +thoughtful, and saw that Jerry and Scotty were turning into the room +from which voices came. Mrs. Tyler might have been angry, upset, +tearful, despondent, or defiant over the loss of her husband's +trawler. Instead, she had been afraid in a situation that did not +appear to call for fear. + +He turned into the room. There were about a dozen men in it. Two were +Coast Guardsmen, one a lieutenant and the other a chief petty officer. +Two others were state highway patrolmen. Another, in a blue uniform, +was evidently the local policeman. The rest were in civilian clothes. +All of them were watching a lean, youthful man who sat ramrod straight +in a chair. + +A stocky man in a brown suit said impatiently, "There's more to it +than that, Tom. Man, you've spent thirty years off Smugglers'. You'd +no more crack up on it than I'd fall over my own front porch." + +"I told you how it was," the fisherman said tonelessly. + +Rick searched his face and liked it. Tom Tyler was perhaps forty, but +he looked ten years younger. His face was burned from wind and sun, +but it was not yet heavily lined. His eyes, gray in color, were clear +and direct as he faced his questioners. He was a tall man; that was +apparent even when he was seated. He had a lean, trim look that +reminded Rick of a clean, seaworthy schooner. + +The boy lifted his camera and took a picture. The group turned briefly +as the flash bulb went off. They glared, then turned back to the +fisherman again. + +The town policeman spoke. "You know what this means, Tom? You not only +lost your ship, but you're apt to lose your license, too. And you'll +be lucky if the insurance company doesn't charge you with barratry." + +"I've told you how it was," Captain Tyler repeated. + +The man in the brown suit exploded. "Stop being a dadblasted fool, +Tom! You expect us to swallow a yarn like that? We know you don't +drink. How can you expect us to believe you ran the _Sea Belle_ ashore +while drunk?" + +"I got no more to say," Tyler replied woodenly. + +Jerry turned to Rick and Scotty and motioned toward the door. Rick led +the way back into the corridor. "Getting anything out of this?" he +asked. + +"A little," Jerry said. "Let's go out and talk to that old man." + +"Lead on," Scotty said. "I've always wanted to see a real news hound +in action." + +Rick dropped the used flash bulb into a convenient ash tray, replaced +it with a new one, and reset the camera. At least he had one good +picture. Tom Tyler, framed by his questioners, had looked somehow like +a thoroughbred animal at bay. + +Outside the door, the old man was still whittling. "Get a real scoop, +sonny?" he asked Jerry. + +"Sure did," Jerry returned. He leaned against the doorjamb. "I didn't +get your name." + +"Didn't give it." + +"Will you?" + +"Sure. I ain't ashamed. I'm Captain Michael Aloysius Kevin O'Shannon. +Call me Cap'n Mike." + +"All right, Cap'n Mike. Is it true Captain Tyler stands to lose his +master's license and may be even charged with deliberately wrecking +the ship?" + +"It's true. + +"He says he was drunk." + +"He wasn't." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know Tom Tyler." + +"Then how did it happen?" + +Cap'n Mike rose and clicked his jackknife shut. He tossed away the elm +twig. "You got a car?" + +"Yes." + +"Let's take a ride. You'll want to see the wreck, and I do, too. We +can talk on the way." + +The boys accepted with alacrity. Rick and Scotty sat in the back seat; +the captain rode up front with Jerry. At the old man's direction, +Jerry drove to the water front and then turned left. + +"I'll start at the beginning," Cap'n Mike said. "I've had experience +with reporters in my day. Best to tell 'em everything, otherwise they +start leaping at conclusions and get everything backwards. Can't +credit a reporter with too many brains." + +"You're right there," Jerry said amiably. + +Rick grinned. He had seen Jerry in operation before. The young +reporter didn't mind any kind of insult if there were a story in the +offing. Rick guessed the newspaper trade wasn't a place for thin +skins. + +"Well, here're the facts," the captain continued. "Tom Tyler, master +and owner of the _Sea Belle_, was coming back from a day's run. He'd +had a good day. The trawler was practically awash with a load of +menhaden. In case you don't know, menhaden are fish. Not eating fish, +but commercial. They get oil and chicken and cattle feed from 'em, and +the trawlers out of this port collect 'em by the millions of tons +every year." + +"We know," Jerry said. + +"Uhuh. As I said, the trawler was full up with menhaden. Tom was at +the wheel himself. The rest of the crew, five of them, was making +snug. There was a little weather making up, but not much, and not +enough to interfere with Tom seeing the light at the tip of Smugglers' +Reef. He saw it clear. Admits it. Now! All you need do is give the +light a few fathoms clearance to starboard. But Tom Tyler didn't. And +what happened?" + +"He ran smack onto the reef," Scotty put in. + +"He surely did. The crew, all of 'em being aft, didn't see a thing. +First they knew they were flying through the air like a bunch of +hooked mackerel and banging into the net gear. One broken arm and a +lot of cuts and bruises among 'em. The trawler tore her bottom out and +rested high and dry, scattering fish like a fertilizer spreader. Tom +Tyler said he took one drink and it went to his head." + +The old man snorted. "Bilge! Sheer bilge! He said hitting the reef +sobered him up." + +"Maybe it did," Jerry ventured. + +"Hogwash. There wasn't a mite of drink on his breath. And what did he +drink? There ain't nothing could make an old hand like Tom forget +where a light was supposed to be. No, the whole thing is fishy as a +bin of herring." + +The boys were silent for a moment after the recital, then Rick blurted +out the question in his mind. "What's his wife afraid of?" + +The captain stiffened. "Who says she's afraid?" + +"I do," Rick returned positively. "I saw her." + +"You did? Well, I reckon you saw right." + +"Maybe she's afraid of Tyler's losing his way of making a living," +Scotty guessed. + +Rick shook his head. "It wasn't that kind of fear." + +The sedan had left the town proper and was rolling along the sea front +on a wide highway. This was Million Dollar Row. In a moment Rick saw +the first of the huge hotels that had given the road its name. It was +called Sandy Shores. Once it had been landscaped, and probably +beautiful. Now, he saw in the dim moonlight, the windows were +shuttered and the grounds had gone back to bunch grass. The paint had +peeled in the salt air and there was an air of decay and loneliness +around the dark old place. + +Extending up the drive were the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, Shore +Mansions, and finally, the Creek House. All were in similar condition. +These hotels had been built in the booming twenties when the +traditional sleepiness of Seaford had been disturbed by a rush of +tourists. Then had come the business depression of the thirties and +the tourists had stopped coming. They had never started again. The +hotels, too expensive to operate and useless as anything but hotels, +had been left to rot. Briefly, during World War II, they had served as +barracks for a Coast Guard shore patrol base, but that activity was +long past now, and they had been left to decay once more. + +There were a number of cars on the road, going both ways. Captain Mike +remarked on the fact. "They're curious about the wreck. Usually not a +car moves on this road." + +As they approached Smugglers' Reef, the cars got thicker. Then Rick +saw lights in the massive Creek House. It was one of the biggest of +the hotels, and it had been the most exclusive. It had its own dock on +Salt Creek, and it was protected from prying eyes by a high board +fence. Two rooms on the second floor were lit up. + +"It's occupied," Cap'n Mike affirmed. "Family name of Kelso is renting +it. Claim they need the salt air and water for their boy. He's +ailing." + +"Must be a big family," Scotty said. + +"Oh, they don't use all of it. Just a couple of bedrooms and the +kitchen. No one knows much about 'em and they don't seem to work at +anything. City folks. Keep to themselves." + +Rick guessed from the note of irritation in Cap'n Mike's voice that he +resented the Kelsos' evident desire for privacy. Probably he had tried +to satisfy his curiosity about them and had been rebuffed. + +Jerry pulled up in front of the hotel and stopped the car. The boys +piled out, anxious for a glimpse of the trawler. Rick crossed the road +and looked out to sea. + +Smugglers' Reef was a gradually narrowing arm of land that extended +over a quarter mile out into the sea. In front of the hotel it was +perhaps two hundred yards wide. Then it narrowed gradually until it +was little more than a wall of piled boulders. On its north side, Salt +Creek emptied into the sea. Beyond the creek was the marsh with its +high grasses. + +At the far tip of the reef, a light blinked intermittently. That was +the light Tyler had failed to keep on his starboard beam. A few +hundred feet this side of it was a moving cluster of flashlights. It +was too dark to make out details, but Rick guessed the lights were at +the wrecked trawler. + +"Got your camera?" Jerry asked. + +Rick held it up. + +"Then let's go. Time is getting short and I have to get the story +back." + +With Cap'n Mike leading the way, surprisingly light on his feet for +his age, the boys made their way out along the reef. A short distance +before they reached the wreck they passed a rusted steel framework. + +"Used to be a light tower," Cap'n Mike explained briefly. "They put up +the new light on the point a few years back and put in an automatic +system. This light had to be tended." + +At the wreck they found almost two dozen people. Flashlights picked +out the trawler. It had driven with force right up on the reef, +ripping out the bottom and dumping thousands of dead menhaden into the +water. They lay in clusters around the wreck, floating on the water in +silvery shoals. The air was heavy with the reek of fish and spilled +Diesel fuel. + +There was little conversation among those who had come to visit the +wreck. When they did talk, it was in low tones. Rick thought that was +strange, because anything like this was usually a field day for +self-appointed experts who discussed it in loud tones and offered +opinions to all who would listen. Then, as he lifted his camera for a +picture, he saw the men look up, startled at the flash. He saw them +turn their backs quickly so their faces would not be seen if he were +to take another picture. + +He sensed tension in the air, and his lively curiosity quickened. This +was no ordinary wreck. Something about it had brought fear. Or was it +that the fear had brought the wreck? + +"Let's go," Jerry said. "Got a deadline to make." + + * * * * * + +Rick lay awake and stared through the window at the darkness. Jerry +had the pictures and story and there seemed to be nothing else to do +except to cover the hearing that would follow. The results were a +foregone conclusion. Trawler skipper admits he ran ship aground while +drunk. Case closed. + +Again Rick saw the fear written on Mrs. Tyler's face. Again he sensed +the tension among the men who gathered at the wreck. And he believed +Cap'n Mike had left some things unsaid in spite of his apparent +frankness. + +"Scotty?" he whispered. + +Scotty's voice came low through the connecting door. "I'm asleep." + +"Same here. Let's go fishing tomorrow." + +"Okay. I know where the blackfish will be running." + +"Do you? Where?" + +Rick grinned sleepily as Scotty's whisper came back. + +"Off Smugglers' Reef." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +The Redheaded Kelsos + + +The Spindrift motor launch rolled gently in the offshore swell as the +New Jersey coast slid by off the starboard beam. Behind the wheel, +Rick steered easily, following the shore line. In the aft cockpit, +Scotty prepared hand lines for the fishing they planned to do to keep +up appearances. + +Their decision to revisit Smugglers' Reef had been made on the spur of +the moment. The case of the wrecked trawler was none of their +business, and Rick had learned in the past that it was a good idea to +keep his nose out of things that didn't concern him. But he could no +more resist a mystery than he could resist a piece of Mrs. Brant's +best chocolate cake. He watched the shore line as the launch sped +along and tried to assure himself that a little look around wasn't +really sticking his nose into the case. After all, it wouldn't hurt to +satisfy his curiosity, would it? + +Scotty came forward and joined him. "All set. We ought to find some +fish right off the tip of the reef. If you intend to do any fishing, +that is." + +"Of course we'll fish," Rick said. "What else did we come here for?" + +"Nothing," Scotty agreed. "This is a fishing expedition in the truest +sense of the word." + +Rick looked at his pal suspiciously. "What was behind that remark?" + +Scotty chuckled. "Are you fooling yourself? Or are you trying to fool +me?" + +Rick had to laugh, too. "Okay. Let's admit it. We're so used to +excitement that we have to go fishing for it if none comes our way. +But seriously, Scotty, this is none of our business. The local +officials can handle it without any help from us. So let's not get too +involved." + +Scotty leaned back against the seat and grinned lazily. "Think you can +take your own advice?" + +"I think so," Rick said, with his fingers crossed. + +Scotty pointed to a low line ahead. "There's the reef. See the light +on the tip?" + +"Couldn't very well miss it," Rick said. The light was painted with +red and white stripes and it stood out sharply against the sky. He +gave Scotty a side glance. "What did you make out of all that talk +last night? Think Captain Tyler ran on the reef purposely?" + +Scotty shook his head. "He didn't strike me as a thief, and that's +what he'd have to be to wreck his trawler on purpose." + +"I liked his looks, too. Then Cap'n Mike said he didn't drink, so his +statement that he was under the influence of liquor wouldn't hold +water, either. What's the answer?" + +"If we knew, would we be here?" Scotty waved at the shore. "How far +does this stuff extend?" + +The water ended in an almost solid wall of rushes and salt-marsh +growth that would be far above even a tall man's head if he stood at +sea level. Now and then a small inlet appeared where the water flowed +too rapidly for plant life to grow. + +"There's about a mile of the stuff," Rick said. "It stops at the reef. +I'm not sure how wide it is, but I'd guess it averages a quarter of a +mile. It's called Brendan's Marsh, after an old man who got lost in it +once. It was over a week before he was found." + +They were approaching the reef at a good clip. + +"What do we do first?" Scotty asked. + +Rick shrugged. He had no plan of action. "Guess we just sort of wander +around and wait for a bright idea to hit us." + +"Lot of other people with the same idea, I guess." Scotty nodded +toward the reef. + +Rick saw a number of figures moving around the wreck of the trawler. +"Wonder who they are?" + +"Probably a lot of folks who are just curious--like two in this boat. +And I wouldn't be surprised if the law was doing a little looking +around by daylight, too." + +"We'll soon see." Rick turned the launch inshore as they approached +the reef. "Let's tie up at the Creek House dock. Then we can walk down +the reef and join the rest." + +"Suits me." + +Rick rounded the corner of the salt marsh and steered the launch into +the creek, reducing speed as he did so. On their right, the marsh +stretched inland along the sluggish creek bank. On their left, the +high old bulk of the Creek House rose from a yard that was strewn +with rubble and years' accumulation of weeds and litter. A hundred +yards up the creek was the gray, rickety piling of the hotel dock. + +"That's it," Rick said. + +Scotty went up to the bow and took the bow line, ready to drop it over +a piling. + +Rick started a wide turn that would bring him into the dock, then cut +the engine. The launch slowed as it lost momentum and drifted into +place perfectly. + +"Hey! Get out of there!" + +Both boys looked up. + +Coming from the hotel's side door on a dead run was a stocky youth of +about their own age. He was between Rick and Scotty in height, and he +had hair the color of a ripe carrot. Swinging from one hand was a +rifle. + +"Is that hair real or has he got a wig on?" Scotty asked. + +"It's real," Rick returned. His forehead creased. The dock had never +been considered private property--at least not since the hotel was +abandoned. He waited to see what the redhead wanted. + +The boy ran down the loose wooden surface toward them, his face red +and angry. "Get that boat out of here!" + +Rick looked into a pair of furious eyes the color of seaweed, set +above a wide nose and thin mouth. + +"Why?" he asked. + +"This is private property. Cast off." + +"Where's your sign?" Scotty asked. + +The boy grinned unpleasantly. "Don't need a sign." He patted the stock +of his rifle. "Got this." + +"Plan to use it?" Scotty asked calmly. + +"If I have to. Now cast off those lines and get out." + +Rick's temper began to fray a little. "You're using the wrong tone of +voice," he said gently. "You should say 'I'm terribly sorry, fellows, +but this is private property. Do you mind tying up somewhere else?' +Ask us nicely like that and we'll do it." + +The redhead half lifted the rifle. "Wise guy, huh? I warned you. Now +cast off those lines and get out." He dropped his hand to the lever of +the rifle as though to pump a cartridge into place. + +Scotty tensed. He said softly, "Get gay with that rifle and I'll climb +up there and feed it to you breech first." + +Rick saw the color rise to the boy's face and the muscles in his +throat tighten. "Easy, Scotty," he said warningly. He knew, as Scotty +did, that no normal person would wave a rifle at anyone for mere +daytime accidental trespassing, but he had a hunch the young +carrot-top would not react normally. + +"Jimmy!" + +The three of them looked to the hotel as the hail came. A big man with +red hair several shades darker than the boy's was waving from the side +door of the Creek House. He walked toward them rapidly. + +"Okay, Pop," Carrottop called. "I told 'em to get out." + +As the man approached, Rick saw that there was a strong resemblance +between the man and the boy. Evidently they were father and son. The +man had the same thin lips, the same seaweed-green eyes. His face was +almost square. It was a tough face, Rick thought. + +The newcomer looked at his son and jerked his thumb toward the hotel. +"Okay, Jimmy, get into the house." + +The boy turned and walked off without a word. + +The man surveyed Rick and Scotty briefly. "Don't mind Jimmy. He was +probably rude, and I'm sorry for it. But this is private property and +I can't allow you to tie up here." He motioned to the high board fence +along the front of the hotel. The fence ran down to the edge of the +creek. "Anywhere this side of the fence is private." + +Rick nodded. "It didn't use to be. That's why we tied up here. I'm +sorry, Mr...." + +"Kelso. I rented the place a few weeks ago. Haven't had time to get +signs up yet." + +"We'll shove off right away, Mr. Kelso. Sorry we intruded." + +"Okay." + +Rick started the engine, threw the launch into reverse, and backed +out. + +Scotty sat down beside him. "How about that?" + +"Funny," Rick said. "Didn't Cap'n Mike say a family named Kelso had +taken the hotel because their little boy was sick and needed fresh +air?" + +"That's what he said," Scotty affirmed. "Do you suppose that was the +sick little boy?" + +"If he's sick," Rick said grimly, "it's trigger fever. I think he'd +like to take a shot at someone." + +"It would sure be an effective way of discouraging trespassers. Why do +you suppose they crave privacy so much?" + +"Beats me," Rick said. "We'll have to ask Cap'n Mike." + +The launch passed the edge of the Creek House fence and came to a +strip of sandy beach. The road ended a few feet from the beach. A +number of cars were parked in the area, and along Smugglers' Reef were +the occupants, most of them standing around the wreck. + +"I'll run the launch in as far as I can," Risk directed, "then you +jump ashore with the anchor." + +"Okay." Scotty went forward and took the small anchor from its +lashings, making sure he had plenty of line. As Rick pushed the bow of +the launch into shallow water until it grated on the sand, Scotty +jumped across the six feet of open water to the beach. + +Rick took the keys from the ignition and joined him. Together they +pulled the launch in a foot or two more, then dug the anchor into the +sand. It would hold until the tide changed. + +"Let's go look at the wreck," Scotty said. + +Rick nodded. "Afterward, I think we'd better go look up Cap'n Mike. I +have some questions I want to ask him." + +"About what?" + +"Something he said last night. And about the Kelsos." + +They reached the old light tower and paused to examine it. Salt air +had etched the steel of the frame badly. The tower was almost forty +feet high, about twice as tall as the present light. At its top had +been a wooden platform where the lightkeeper had once stood to care +for the light. A rusty metal ladder led up one side of the tower to +where the platform had been. + +Rick wondered why the authorities had abandoned the tower in favor of +the smaller light at the very tip of the reef and decided it probably +was because having the warning signal at the very point was more +practical. That way, a ship needed only to clear the light without +worrying about how far away from the light it had to pass. + +"Let's go," Scotty said. "Nothing interesting about this relic." + +They joined the group of men at the wreck of the _Sea Belle_ and saw +that the wreck was being inspected, probably by the insurance people. +A question to one of the watchers affirmed the guess. Rick asked, +"What do they expect to find?" + +"Search me." + +Scotty nudged Rick. "We won't have to look far for Cap'n Mike. There +he is." + +The old man was seated on a rock, whittling at a twig. Seemingly, he +paid no attention to anything going on. Now and then he looked out to +sea, but mostly he paid attention to his whittling. + +Rick walked over, Scotty behind him. "Good morning, Cap'n Mike." + +"'Morning, boys." + +"Remember us?" + +"Sure do. Where's the reporter?" + +"He's not with us. We came down to do a little fishing." + +Bright eyes twinkled at them. "Fishing, eh? What kind?" + +"We thought we might get some blackfish at the end of the reef," +Scotty replied. + +"You might at that," Cap'n Mike said. "You might gets crabs off the +end of the Creek House pier, too, if Red Kelso would let you try. Did +you ask him?" + +Rick grinned. Cap'n Mike might not seem to be paying attention, but +evidently he didn't miss much. + +"We didn't ask him," he said. "Maybe we didn't even see him." He knew +Cap'n Mike could have seen the boat vanish upcreek and return, but he +wouldn't have been able to see past the fence. + +"Maybe you didn't," the old captain conceded. "But you sure saw +somebody, and it had to be Kelso or that boy of his." + +"Why do they want so much privacy?" Scotty demanded. + +Cap'n Mike ignored the question. "You really got any fishing gear in +that launch?" + +"Hand lines," Rick said. + +"That's good as anything. Now, I always say a man can't think proper +in a mob like this. Too distracting. So let's go fishing and do some +thinking. What say?" + +Rick's glance met Scotty's. Cap'n Mike had his own way of doing +things. They had nothing to lose by humoring him. + +"Let's go," Scotty said. + +As they passed the wreck, Rick stopped for a moment to look at it +again. The air was even heavier than the night before with the reek of +dead fish. They were scattered along the reef in shoals ten feet wide. +By daylight he could see that the trawler was finished. She had broken +her back and torn out a good part of her bottom. She must have been +really making knots to hit like that. + +"Cap'n, exactly what was the weather like when Tom Tyler hit?" Rick +asked. + +"Not bad. Visibility might have been less than real perfect, but it +wouldn't have interfered with him seeing the light." + +"Would it have interfered with him seeing the reef if the light had +been out?" + +"I reckon it would. Until he was right on it, anyway." + +Rick turned the information over in his mind. "Were any other trawlers +out last night?" + +"Plenty. The _Sea Belle_ was first in, but the rest were right behind. +The light was burning, all right. I thought of that, too, son." + +"My name is Rick Brant. This is Don Scott. We call him Scotty." + +"Knew you both," Cap'n Mike said. "I subscribe to the paper your +friend writes for. Seen your pictures couple of times. Didn't you just +get back from somewhere?" + +"The South Pacific," Scotty said. + +"Used to sail those waters. Reckon things have changed some." + +"The war changed the islands," Scotty told him. "Especially...." he +stopped suddenly and took Rick's arm. "Look." + +The elder Kelso was standing in front of the launch. + +"What do you suppose he's after?" Rick asked. + +Before Scotty or Cap'n Mike could think up an answer, Kelso turned and +walked back along the beach. There was a foot or two of space between +the water of the creek and the hotel fence. The redheaded man slipped +through it and vanished from sight. + +"I'll bet he came out just to look the boat over," Scotty guessed, +"and there's only one reason I can think of why he'd do that. He +wanted to see if he could find out more about us." + +"Unless he admired the launch and wanted a closer look at it," Rick +added. + +Cap'n Mike snorted. "Red Kelso's got no eye for beauty, in boats, +anyway." + +"Then my guess must have been right," Scotty said. + +"Right or wrong," Cap'n Mike retorted, "I can't say's I like it. I +wish you boys had talked to me before you decided to invade Salt +Creek!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A Warning + + +Cap'n Mike tested his line, then gave a sharp tug. He hauled rapidly +and lifted a three-pound blackfish into the boat. + +"Practically a minnow," he said. + +"Did we come out here to fish or to talk?" Rick asked. They were +anchored a few hundred yards off the reef tip and had been for almost +an hour. In that time Cap'n Mike had made a good haul of four blacks, +one flounder and a porgy. Rick and Scotty had caught two blacks +apiece. + +There was a definite twinkle in Cap'n Mike's eyes. "Came to talk," he +said. "But the fish are biting too good. Better fish while the +fishing's good. Time enough to talk later." + +"Time enough for fishing later, you mean," Rick retorted. "Hauling in +blackfish isn't going to find out why the _Sea Belle_ was wrecked." + +"Got the answer to that already," Cap'n Mike said. + +Rick and Scotty stared. "You have?" Rick asked incredulously. + +"Stands to reason. Didn't you tell me you knew Mrs. Tyler was scared?" + +"Yes, but what...." + +"Well, Tom is scared, too. He wasn't, until the _Sea Belle_ was +wrecked, but he sure is now. That's why he's sticking to that story of +his instead of telling the truth." + +"What is the truth?" Scotty demanded. + +"Don't know that. Yet. Reckon I'll find out, though. Only I'll need +some help." + +Keen eyes surveyed the two boys. + +Rick worked his hand line absently. "You mean you want us to help?" + +"Seems I've read about you boys solving a mystery or two, haven't I?" + +"We've had a couple of lucky breaks," Scotty said. "We're not real +detectives." + +Cap'n Mike tried his line and muttered, "Feels like a cunner is +stealing my bait. Well, boys, I wouldn't be surprised none if a little +luck like yours is what we need. Can't pretend, though, that you might +not be walking right into something you wouldn't like. Anything that +scares Tom Tyler is something anyone with sense would be afraid of." + +Rick hauled in his line and saw that his bait was gone. He rebaited, +his mind on what he already knew of the case. "I've been wanting to +ask you," he said. "That answer you gave to Jerry when he asked where +Tom Tyler was. You said 'Inside. Surrounded by fools.' What did you +mean?" + +Cap'n Mike sniffed. "Just what I said. If the constable and the rest +hadn't been fools they would have known that Tom Tyler was afraid to +talk. Just like plenty of others are afraid." + +Rick picked up his ears. "Others? Cap'n, I think you know a few things +you haven't told us." + +The old seaman hauled in his line and grunted when he saw that his +bait had been stolen. "Reckon we got too many bait stealers down below +now. Either of you boys hungry?" + +"I am," Scotty said promptly. + +"I could eat," Rick admitted. He looked at his watch. It was almost +noon. + +"Then let's haul anchor and get out of here." + +In a moment the hand lines were wound on driers and the anchor stowed. +At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pointed the launch to the south, +toward the town. The old man took out his pocketknife, whetted it +briefly on the sole of his shoe, and commenced to clean and fillet the +fish they had caught. Scotty slipped into the seat beside Rick. + +"What do you think about trying to solve this one?" + +Rick shrugged. There was nothing he enjoyed as much as a mystery, but +he wanted more information from Captain Michael O'Shannon before he +agreed to anything. He had suspected that the old seaman knew more +than he was saying. "We'll wait and see what develops," he said. "Okay +with you?" + +"Suits me," Scotty agreed. + +The launch sped past Million Dollar Row, leaving behind a string of +fishy waste as Cap'n Mike went on with his cleaning. By the time they +were even with the town he had a handsome stack of white boneless +fillets all ready for the pan. He brought them forward and took a +seat next to Scotty. "Guess these'll taste mighty good. Got a little +fresh bread and plenty of butter to go with 'em." + +Rick pointed to a large barnlike structure on the biggest pier in +front of the town. "What's that?" + +"Fish market. That's where most of the trawlers load and unload. It's +quiet now, because the fleet is out, but after dark when they come in, +and early in the morning before they leave--that's the busiest place +in these parts. I'll take you down there one of these times. Might be +we'll find a couple of answers there." + +He pointed to an old windmill on the shore just below the town. "Steer +for that." + +"Do you live there?" Scotty asked. + +"I live in a shack behind it. But there's a place to tie up. You'll +see it in a minute." + +As the captain had said, there was a small dock in front of the +windmill. Rick headed the launch for it and in a short time they were +tied up. Behind the mill, which was an old ruin that had been used a +half century before for grinding meal, was the road leading south from +Seaford. Across the road was a weather-beaten fisherman's shack. + +Cap'n Mike pushed the door open. "It ain't no palace," he said, "but +it's home and I'm proud to welcome you. Come on in." + +Inside, Rick stared around him with appreciative surprise. The little +shanty was as neat and efficient as a ship's cabin. On one side was a +tiny galley with everything neatly stowed. On the other was a built-in +bunk. The walls had been papered with old charts, and he saw that +most of them were of the New York-New Jersey area. A ship's lantern, +wired for electricity, hung so low that it almost brushed Scotty's +head. Ship models lined the mantel. + +Cap'n Mike was already at work in the galley. With no waste motion he +produced a coffeepot, filled it with water, dumped in a handful of +coffee and put it on the stove. He whisked a match across the seat of +his pants and lit the kerosene. Then he produced a paper bag, shook in +flour, salt and pepper, dumped in the fish and closed the bag, shaking +it violently a few times with one hand while he produced a frying pan +with the other. In a moment the pan was full of frying fish. A +breadbox yielded a loaf of homemade bread. + +Before Rick and Scotty quite realized that lunch was ready, he had +them seated at a table that folded down from the wall, with a smoking +platter of fillets in front of them. + +"Eat," he commanded. + +Rick was no fish fancier, but he had to admit that this was delicious. +And the coffee, in spite of the apparent carelessness with which it +had been made, was the best ever. + +When the last drop had been consumed, Cap'n Mike pushed back his +chair. "Let's get down to brass tacks," he said. "Do you go along with +me or not?" + +Rick dropped into the idiom of the sea. "I like to know the course +before I haul anchor." + +Cap'n Mike chuckled. "Didn't expect caution or wisdom from you." + +Scotty grinned. "Don't worry. He's neither cautious nor wise. He can't +wait to get started and neither can I. But Rick's right. We have to +know the whole story." + +"Right. Well, there isn't much. Something's been going on in Seaford. +Don't ask me what, because I don't know. I think Tom Tyler does, and I +think his finding out is what led to the wreck of the _Sea Belle_." He +held up his hand as Rick's lips framed a question. "You're going to +ask me how I know that. Well, I don't know it. I just suspect it. I +was a mite too positive when I said I knew. All I know is Tom Tyler +told me one day that he had an idea that something strange was going +on at the Creek House, and that he intended to find out what it was. +Now! He must have had a good idea that whatever was going on was +crooked, because Tom isn't the kind of man to pry into folks' business +without a good purpose." + +"Do you think he found out?" Rick asked. + +"I do. I think he found out four nights ago. I was sitting in my dory +jigging for eels a little distance down from the Creek House fence +right at the mouth of Salt Creek. I saw Tom. He didn't know I saw him. +He came around the corner of the fence and for a minute he was +silhouetted against a light. I didn't see his face, but I'm sure. +Known him since he was a shaver. Next morning I bumped into him at the +pier, getting ready to go out on the _Sea Belle_. He said to see him +at his house that night, because he had something to talk to me about. +Well, I saw him that night, but not at his house. He was sitting at a +corner table in Sam's Lobster House, and can you guess who was with +him?" + +"Red Kelso?" + +Cap'n Mike nodded at Rick. "It was Kelso. He was doing the talking, +too, and from the expression on Tom's face, he wasn't saying anything +Tom liked a whole lot. After a while he left, and I went over to Tom. +I asked casual-like what it was he wanted to talk with me about and he +froze up like a clam. He was scared, at first. Then he seemed to get +sort of mad, too, because he said, 'I'm going to call his bluff. Wait +and see.'" + +"Meaning Kelso," Scotty said. + +"I reckon, but Tom wouldn't talk. He said it was better that I didn't +know what he was talking about. He got up and left and I didn't see +him again until last night at City Hall after he wrecked the _Sea +Belle_." + +Rick thought it over. The logical deduction was that Tom Tyler had +somehow gotten suspicious of the Kelsos and what they were doing at +Creek House and had gone spying. Kelso had found out Tyler had spied +on him and had warned him, although Rick couldn't imagine what club he +had held over Tyler's head. Tyler had ignored the warning and somehow +Kelso had contrived to wreck the trawler. But how? + +"Was the regular crew aboard the _Sea Belle_?" he asked. + +"Yes. Just the regulars. All good men who've sailed with Tom Tyler for +more'n ten years." + +"You said Mrs. Tyler was afraid, too," Scotty remembered. + +Cap'n Mike shrugged. "Probably Tom talked the whole thing over with +her." + +There had been an air of tension at the wreck last night, Rick +thought. Maybe other fishermen were in it, too. He put the question to +Cap'n Mike. + +"I don't think so," the old man said. "The whole town knows +something's up. They know Tom Tyler doesn't wince at shadows. If he's +afraid, and they know he is, he's got reasons. That makes 'em all +uneasy. But there is one gang that I'm sure is mixed up in this, and +that's the bunch on the _Albatross_. She's a fishing craft just like +Tom's, only her skipper isn't much like Tom. Name's Brad Marbek." + +Rick stretched his legs. "Why do you think he and his crew are mixed +up in it?" + +"Eel fishing is a good business for them as wants information," Cap'n +Mike said. + +Rick hid a smile. The old seaman was bursting with curiosity about the +Creek House and its new inhabitants. He had a picture of him sitting +patiently at the mouth of Salt Creek, ostensibly fishing but actually +watching to see what he could find out. + +"I've seen the _Albatross_ tied up at Salt Creek pier three times," +the captain went on. "Now! Why would a trawler, loaded to the gunwales +with menhaden, stop at the hotel before coming in to the fish wharves +to unload?" + +"Not for social purposes, that's certain," Rick said. + +"Find out why and we're a lot closer to the solution," Cap'n Mike +stated. + +Rick had the germ of an idea. "How far out do the trawlers go?" + +"Few miles. Fishing grounds start a couple of miles out. Why?" + +"Just an idea." + +Scotty's eyes met Rick's. "Thinking about going to take a look?" + +"Could be. What time do they leave here, and what time do they get +back?" + +"They leave about four in the morning at this time of year. Mostly +they don't get back until around nine. They like to get to the grounds +by daylight and fish until dark. If they get a full load before dark, +of course they come in earlier." + +Rick grinned at Scotty. "Ever wanted to be a reporter?" + +"Nope. My spelling isn't that good." + +"Well, you're going to be one. Let's get home. I want to make a call +to the Whiteside _Morning Record_." + +Cap'n Mike's eyes brightened. "So you'll work along with me, hey? Knew +you would. What happens now?" + +"First thing is to interview Captain Tyler and his crew," Rick said. + +Cap'n Mike shook his head. "You'd be wasting time. I've already tried. +Tom's not saying a word, even to his old friends, and the crew has +orders from him not to talk. They're loyal. You'll get nothing out of +'em." + +"All right," Rick said, disappointed. If the fishermen wouldn't talk +to Cap'n Mike they certainly wouldn't talk to him and Scotty. "Then +we'll go back to Spindrift and do a couple of chores. We'll come back +to Seaford tonight. I'd like to get a look at the _Albatross_, if you +can fix it." + +"Easy." Cap'n Mike rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm betting +we can get Tom Tyler out of this." + +Rick scratched his head thoughtfully. "Don't get your hopes too high, +Cap'n Mike. We're only a couple of amateurs, remember." + +"Some amateurs are better than some professionals, no matter what the +business. I'm not worried any more." + +Cap'n Mike walked down to the boat landing in front of the old +windmill with them. "How will you come down tonight?" + +"I'll try to borrow a car," Rick said. "Think Jerry will lend us his, +Scotty?" + +"If he isn't using it. If he is, maybe we can borrow Gus's." + +Scotty walked to the stern of the launch and untied the line that held +it to the pier. Rick loosed the bow line, then jumped into the pilot's +seat. As he did so, he sat on a sheet of paper. He had left no paper +on the seat. He rescued it and turned it over. There was a message on +the back, printed in pencil in huge block letters. Its content sent a +sudden shiver through him. He beckoned to Scotty and handed it to him. +"Looks like someone can read enough to get our home port off the stern +of the launch." + +Scotty scanned it rapidly, then whistled softly. For Cap'n Mike's +benefit, he read it aloud. + + _KEEP OUT OF THIS. KEEP OUT OF SEAFORD AND STAY AWAY FROM + SHANNON. STAY AT SPINDRIFT WHERE YOU BELONG. YOU'LL GET HURT + IF YOU DON'T._ + +Scotty's face took on an injured expression. "To read that," he +complained, "you'd think we weren't wanted here!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +The Mysterious Phone Call + + +Rick hung up the phone in the Spindrift library and turned to Scotty. +"Jerry is using his car tonight. But Duke says okay. He'll make out a +reporter's identity card for you and a photographer's card for me. +Only if anything interesting turns up, we have to give him a story." + +"Good thing papers have rewrite men," Scotty said, grinning. "It's all +I can do to write a readable letter. A news story would be way beyond +me." + +Rick picked up the phone again. "I'll see if Gus is using his car." + +Gus, owner, chief mechanic, and general factotum of the Whiteside +Airport, had loaned his car to Rick on several occasions. His hope, he +explained every time, was that Rick would drive it to pieces so he +could collect the insurance and get a better one. + +In a moment Gus answered. "It's Gus." + +"Rick here, Gus. That ancient clunk of yours still running?" + +Gus's voice assumed wounded dignity. "Are you speaking of my airplane +or my automobile?" + +"Your limousine. Using it tonight?" + +"Nope. Don't drive it any more than I have to. When do you want it?" + +"About eight, if that's all right." + +"Okay. I'll drop it off at the dock. Don't bother bringing it back. +Just let me know where it is so I can tell the insurance company." + +"I'm a safe driver, Gus," Rick said with a grin. + +"If I believed that I wouldn't lend you the car. Leave it in my back +yard when you get through, huh?" + +"Thanks a million, Gus. I'll take good care of it." + +"Don't. You'll spoil it." + +Rick rang off. "What time is it?" + +"About half past three," Scotty said. "Why?" + +"Let's take the Cub up for a little spin." + +Scotty chuckled. "You're never as happy as when you're trying to +unravel a mystery. Any mystery." + +"You don't like it," Rick scoffed. "You like a peaceful, quiet life. A +book and a hammock. That's for you. Why don't you go get one of your +Oat Operas to read and leave the mystery to me?" + +"Got to keep you out of trouble," Scotty said amiably. "It isn't +because I'm interested." + +They walked from the house into the orchard that separated the low, +gray stone laboratory buildings from the house and headed toward the +air strip. The strip was grass-covered and just big enough for a small +plane like Rick's. It ran along the seaward side of the island, with +the orchard on one side and the sea cliff on the other. + +"Just thought," Scotty said suddenly. "We'd better have some +binoculars if we're going out to take a look at the fleet." + +"I'll warm up while you get them," Rick agreed. He started the engine +and warmed the plane until Scotty arrived with a pair of ten-power +binoculars. + +Scotty untied the parking ropes and pulled out the wheel chocks, then +got into his seat. "Let's go," he said. + +Rick nodded and advanced the throttle. In a moment the Cub lifted +easily from the grass. + +Rick settled down to the business of flying. He looked at the sea +below and estimated the wind force. Mentally he figured his probable +drift, then decided on south-southeast as his compass heading, and +swung the little plane on course. + +"Checked the equipment recently?" Scotty asked. + +He referred to the two-man life raft and signaling pistol Rick had +purchased from Navy surplus for just such overwater flights as this. + +"Went through it Saturday," Rick said. "But don't worry. We won't get +your feet wet." + +"You hadn't better," Scotty retorted. "These are new shoes I have on." +He paused. "What do you think about that warning?" + +They had discussed it thoroughly on the way home from Seaford, +examining all possibilities. "I haven't changed my mind," Rick said. +"I think it was Carrots Kelso." + +He reasoned that Red Kelso, the boy's father, had too much sense to +try warning them away. The only purpose the warning would serve would +be to arouse their curiosity even more--which it had certainly done. + +"That Carrots is a queer one," Scotty said. He had to raise his voice +slightly because of the engine's drone. "Did you notice the rifle he +carried?" + +"And how! It looked like a .30-30." + +"It wasn't." + +Rick looked at Scotty in surprise. "No?" + +"Nope. It looked like one because of the lever. Sport carbines have +those to lever cartridges into the chamber. But this one had a lever +for pumping air. I've only seen one like it before, and a professional +hunter in Australia had that one. He used it for collecting specimens +when he didn't want to make noise. Sometimes he found several +wallabies or Tasmanian wolves together and he could get two or three +before they knew what was up." + +"You mean an air gun has enough power to use for hunting?" Rick knew +modern air guns had high penetrating power, but he had never heard of +one powerful enough to use on animals as big as wolves. + +"This model has," Scotty told him. "It was made by the Breda Gun +Company in Czechoslovakia before the war. The slug is about .25 +caliber, but heavier than the kind we have in America." + +"Wonder where he got it," Rick mused. + +"Hard to tell. They're expensive guns, believe me." + +The Cub had been flying only a few hundred feet above the water. +Behind them, the New Jersey coast was still in sight. Rick climbed to +a thousand feet and told Scotty to start looking for the fishing +fleet. + +"How many shots can you get out of that air rifle?" Rick asked. + +"Just one. It's automatic loading, but it has to be pumped up each +time. That's not as hard as it sounds, though, because the pump is +made so that two strokes will give it a full air charge. It's about as +fast firing as a single-shot .22 rifle." + +Rick's eyes scanned the horizon. "How do you suppose Carrots tracked +us to Cap'n Mike's shack?" + +"Easy enough. He could hike along the shore and keep us in sight." + +"He was risking being seen when he put that warning on the seat. +Suppose one of us had looked out the window?" + +"Then he would have pretended to be just hiking, or looking at the +boat or something. It wasn't really much of a risk." + +"I suppose not," Rick agreed. Small specks on the horizon caught his +eye suddenly and he pointed. "There's the fleet!" + +Scotty held the binoculars to his eyes. "Sure enough. About eight +trawlers so far, pretty well scattered." + +In a few moments they could see clouds of gulls and petrels around the +boats, a sure sign of plenty of fish. Then they made out the details +of the big nets used by the fishermen for catching the menhaden. + +"See if you can spot the _Albatross_," Rick said. + +"You'll have to go down and pass each boat, then. I couldn't make out +the names from this height." + +"Okay. Here we go." + +On each of the craft, fishermen waved as the Cub sped past. Scotty +read the names aloud. None of the trawlers was the _Albatross_. + +Rick put the Cub into a climb. "There must be other trawlers around. +Let's go up and take a look." + +Scotty shook his head. "I have a better idea. We'll see the +_Albatross_ tonight, anyway. Why not go into shore and fly over Creek +House? Sometimes you can see things from the air you can't see from +the ground." + +Rick considered. Flying out to the fleet had been only an impulse +anyway; he hadn't expected to see anything. He was quite sure the +_Albatross_ would look and act just like the rest of the Seaford +fleet. + +"Good idea," he said finally, and banked the Cub around. He pointed +the little plane south of west to compensate for the wind, then +settled back. + +Rick kept an eye out for landmarks as the coast approached and +presently he made out the steel towers of an antenna field. That would +be the Loran radio range south of Seaford. He had compensated a little +too much for drift. He banked north and in a few moments Scotty +spotted Seaford. + +Rick dropped down, but kept out to sea so that he wouldn't violate the +law about flying too low over towns. He saw the windmill and Cap'n +Mike's shack behind it. + +"Go past Smugglers' Reef and then turn and come back over Creek +House," Scotty suggested. + +Rick nodded. Dead ahead he could see the curving arm of the reef and +the wreck of Tyler's trawler. He saw that the fishing craft had piled +up just about midway between the navigation light on the reef's tip +and the old tower where the light formerly had been. Men were working +about the trawler. Then, as the Cub flashed overhead, he saw a large +truck that had backed down the reef toward the wreck as far as it was +safe to go. + +Scotty had been watching through the glasses. As Rick swung wide out +to sea and banked around to go south again, he said, "Know what +they're doing down there? They're stripping the wreck." + +"That makes sense," Rick said. "Probably the insurance company wants +to salvage what it can. They'd have to act fast before sea water +ruined the engines." + +He banked sharply over Brendan's Marsh. To the right was the highway +leading from Whiteside to Seaford. Between the highway and the sea was +the marsh. Although the marsh looked like solid growth from the +ground, it could be seen that it was cut up by narrow waterways, most +of which wandered aimlessly through the rushes and then vanished. Salt +Creek was sharply defined, however, indicating that it was much deeper +than the surrounding water. + +The Creek House was fenced in on only two sides, he saw. The high +boards separated it from the next hotel on the south, and from the +road on the sea front. But inland, a continuation of the marsh served +as a dividing line. Salt Creek made the fourth side. The old mansion +was set in the middle of the square with a big combination garage and +boathouse behind it, almost against the marsh on the creek side. The +doors were open and he could make out a black car, probably a coupé or +two-door model, in one of the stalls. + +"See anyone?" Scotty asked. + +"Not a soul." Evidently the Kelsos were indoors. + +Rick climbed as the Cub passed over Seaford, then turned out to sea +and went northward again. Scotty kept the glasses on Smugglers' Reef. +As they flashed past, he swiveled sharply. "Rick, make another run, +right over the wreck." + +"You won't be able to see it if I go right over it," Rick objected. + +"I don't want to see the wreck, I want a closer look at the old +tower." + +Rick shot a glance at his pal. "See something?" + +"I'm not sure." + +"I'll throttle down so you can get a better look." He made a slow +bank, lined up the wreck and throttled down, dropping the nose to a +shallow glide in order to maintain flying speed. As the Cub passed the +old tower, he looked curiously. He couldn't imagine what had attracted +Scotty's interest. The thing was only a steel framework, red with +rust. Not even the top platform was left. + +Off Seaford, he banked out to sea again. + +"See enough?" + +Scotty dropped the binoculars to his lap. "I saw bright metal on the +lowest cross girder. I couldn't tell much, but it looked like a deep +scratch. And some of the rust had been flaked off around the spot, +too. I could tell because it was a redder color than the rest." + +Rick thought it over. "I can't make anything out of that," he said +finally. "What's your guess?" + +Scotty shrugged. "I don't have one. But it's a cinch someone has been +up there, and within the past couple of days, too. Raw metal rusts +fast right over the sea like that, and this spot was bright enough to +attract my attention. Maybe we'd better have a closer look from the +ground." + +"It wouldn't hurt," Rick agreed. "Well, what now?" + +"Might as well go home," Scotty said. "We can take it easy until after +dinner, and then go to Whiteside, pick up those cards from Duke and +get the car from Gus." + +They had been flying steadily north. A moment later Spindrift loomed +on the horizon. Rick saw the gray lab building and, to its left, +Pirate's Field where the rocket launcher had once stood. He waited +until the Cub was abreast of the old oak on the mainland that he used +as a landmark, then cut the throttle. The plane lost altitude rapidly, +passed a few feet over the radar antenna on the lab building and +settled to the grass strip. Rick gunned the tail around and rolled to +the parking place. + +They staked down the Cub and walked through the orchard to the house. +In the kitchen, Mrs. Brant was rolling out piecrust. She smiled at the +boys. "Been riding?" + +"We went out to watch the fishing fleet," Rick said, "then swung down +over Seaford for another look at that wrecked trawler. What kind of +pie, Mom?" + +"Butterscotch." + +Scotty smacked his lips. "We should have waited a little while, then +we could have had a sample when we got in." + +"No samples," Mrs. Brant said. "It would spoil your supper." + +"Not mine," Scotty replied. "Nothing spoils my supper. Got any +doughnuts handy, Mom?" + +Mrs. Brant sighed. "In the stone crock. And there's milk in the +refrigerator. But only one doughnut!" + +"Only one," Scotty agreed. "How about you, Rick?" + +"I'm not hungry. I think I'll go up and work on the camera for a +while." He would have over an hour to work on it before it was time to +eat. He started for the stairs, then paused as the telephone rang. + +Hartson Brant, who was working in the library, answered it and called, +"Rick? It's for you." + +"I'll take it upstairs, Dad." He hurried to the top of the stairs and +picked up the hall phone. + +"Hello?" + +"Rick Brant?" + +Rick stiffened. It was a man's voice, but obviously disguised as +though the man spoke through a handkerchief held over the mouthpiece. + +"Yes. Who is it?" + +"A friend," the disguised voice answered. "You're a nice kid and I +don't like to see you getting into trouble. Keep out of Seaford. +Remember that! Keep out of Seaford and stop flying over in your +airplane or you're going to get hurt. You won't be warned again. Next +time, you'll wake up in a hospital!" + +There was a click as the speaker hung up. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The "Albatross" + + +"Know what I like about you?" Scotty said. + +"My charm," Rick answered. "Or is it that I like food as much as you +do?" + +"Neither. What I like about you is your caution. The very soul of +prudence, that's what you are. Your instinct for self-preservation is +exceeded by only one thing." + +"My," Rick said. "That's almost poetic. What's the one thing?" + +"Your instinct for getting into trouble," Scotty stated. "You get a +warning to stay away from Seaford, so what happens next?" He waved at +the scenery as they sped past in Gus's old car. "Naturally we head for +Seaford at ninety miles an hour, not even stopping to pick up our +press cards." + +Rick laughed. "Be accurate. This old heap can't go ninety miles an +hour. Besides, it's only my never-ending search for the truth that +leads me to Seaford. I want to find out if the warning is true." + +Scotty sighed. "Whoever it was that phoned should know you as I do. If +we needed anything to sharpen the famous Brant nose for trouble, it +was that phone call. I suppose now we'll spend all our waking hours +commuting back and forth to Seaford." + +"Not all," Rick corrected. "Some of the time we'll be in Seaford." + +"Any idea who it was that phoned?" + +"It could have been anyone. But I don't think it was Carrots Kelso. +The voice was an older man's. Maybe it was his father, but I didn't +hear enough of his voice to recognize it." + +"Why should anyone worry about us looking into things?" + +"Respect," Rick said, wincing as the car bounced across Salt Creek +Bridge. "Respect for the genius of Spindrift's two leading detectives. +Can't think of any other reason." + +"Unless whatever is going on would be so obvious to anyone who took +the trouble to investigate that the party concerned doesn't even want +two simple-minded souls like us poking around." + +"Such modesty," Rick clucked. + +"Okay, Hawkshaw," Scotty said resignedly. "On to Seaford. We'll +probably find the answer just as the villain lowers the boom on us." + +Rick swung into the Seaford turnoff and slowed for the main street. He +went straight ahead to the water front and then turned right. In a few +moments the car drew up in front of Cap'n Mike's shack. + +The captain opened the door and peered out. "Be with you in a minute." +In much less than a minute he was out again, clad in a jacket and +officer's cap. + +"Howdy," he greeted them. "See much from your airplane?" + +"How did you know it was our airplane?" Rick asked curiously. + +"Pshaw! You don't give people credit for knowing much, do you? I'll +bet everyone in Seaford knows about your airplane. Everyone who reads +the Whiteside _Morning Record_, anyway." + +"But all Cubs look alike," Rick protested, "and most of them are +painted yellow." + +Cap'n Mike snorted. "What of it? No other yellow planes in this area, +and you been seen on the ground in Seaford twice already. What would +anyone think? Especially when you're on a direct bearing for Spindrift +when you leave?" + +"He's got something there," Scotty said. "It's a logical conclusion." + +Rick had to agree. "Well, you're the guide, Cap'n. Where to?" + +"The pier." Cap'n Mike looked at the fast-fading light in the west. +"It's time for the trawlers to be coming in. Reckon we'll talk to a +couple of folks and get a look at the _Albatross_ and her crew." + +Rick turned the car around and headed for town. "Why don't you tell us +all you know about the _Albatross_ visiting Creek House?" + +"I intended to. First off, the _Albatross_ has been there three times +that I know of. And each time she has put in on her way back from the +fishing grounds. Now, that's mighty strange. First thing a captain +thinks of is getting his fish into port. But not Brad Marbek. Instead, +he lays at the Creek House pier until nigh onto midnight. Then he +puts into the wharf and unloads his fish. What do you make out of +that?" + +Rick could make nothing out of it. The _Albatross_ certainly wouldn't +be calling at Creek House just to be sociable. "Were these calls made +at regular intervals?" he asked. + +"Nope. One was two weeks ago, one was four nights ago, and the last +time was night before last." + +"Wasn't four nights ago the night you saw Tom Tyler at Creek House?" +Scotty recalled. + +"It was. That's one reason why I'm sure the _Albatross_ is tied up +with the wreck of the _Sea Belle_." + +Rick searched for possible reasons why the trawler should tie up at +Creek House and rejected all but one. He had the beginnings of an +idea, but he needed to think about it a little more before he broached +it. + +"Cap'n, you've been keeping an eye on the Kelsos for quite a while, +sounds like," Rick said. "Do they ever have any visitors?" + +"Haven't seen any." + +"No trucks?" Rick asked. + +"Haven't seen any." + +They were approaching the big, shedlike fish pier. It was brilliantly +lighted. At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pulled off the street and +parked. + +"What happens to the menhaden after they're unloaded?" Scotty wanted +to know. + +"Ever notice that one-story building next to the pier? Well, they go +into that on conveyer belts. Then the oil is cooked out of them and +what's left is turned into feed or fertilizer. You'd know if you'd +ever been here while the plant was processing and the wind was +inshore. Dangdest smell you ever smelled. Like to ruin your nose." + +Rick sniffed the fishy air. "I believe it," he said. + +Cap'n Mike had been leading the way toward the big pier. Now he turned +onto the pier itself. Some trawlers already were tied up and were +being unloaded by bucket cranes. The reek of fish was strong enough to +make Rick wish for a gas mask. He saw Scotty's nose wrinkle and knew +his pal wasn't enjoying it, either. + +The captain stopped at the first trawler and hailed the bridge. A big +man in an officer's cap answered the hail. + +"Let's go aboard," Cap'n Mike said. "This here is the _Jennie Lake_. +We'll talk with Bill Lake for a minute." + +Bill Lake was the skipper, and the man they had seen directing the +unloading from the bridge. He greeted Cap'n Mike cordially. The +captain introduced the two boys and Lake shook hands without taking +his eyes from the unloading operation. Rick saw a scoop drop into the +hold and come up with a slippery half-ton of menhaden. Then it sped +along a beam track into the big shed, paused over a wide conveyer +belt, lowered to within a few feet of the belt and dumped its load. A +clerk just inside the door marked the load on a board. Rick looked for +the winch operator and found him opposite the clerk. + +The scoop came back rapidly, sped out the track extension above the +hold, and paused. Bill Lake signaled and the big bucket dropped +slowly. At a further signal, it opened its jaws and plunged into the +mass of fish, then slowly crunched closed and lifted again. There was +certainly no waste motion here, Rick thought. + +Cap'n Mike asked, too casually, "What'd you think of Tom Tyler running +on Smugglers' Reef, Bill?" + +Bill's cordiality seemed to freeze up. "None of my business," he said +shortly. "Can't pass judgment on a fellow skipper." + +Cap'n Mike nodded. "Reckon that's right. Bill, how did you find +visibility last night?" + +"None too good. There was a heavy current running, too." + +"That's interesting. How'd you know that?" + +"Patch of mist drifted in. Anyway, I lost the light for a bit. When +the mist cleared, the current had set us two points off course." +Captain Lake's forehead wrinkled as he watched the scoop return for +another load. "Mighty funny, too. Usually there's no current to speak +of off Brendan's Marsh. But I've said for quite a while that the +currents hereabouts are changing and it looks like this proves it." + +"Was Captain Tyler directly ahead of you, sir?" Rick asked. + +"Not directly. He was three ahead, the way I figure. Brad Marbek was +right behind him, then came Jim Killian." + +"How far apart were you?" Rick inquired. + +"Quite a ways. Jim was pretty close in front of me, but Brad was +almost out of my sight. Don't know how close he followed Tom." + +Cap'n Mike spat over the side. "Sad business, anyway," he said. "Well, +Bill, I'm taking these lads on a little tour of the pier. Reckon we'll +be pushing along. Looks like you'll be busy unloading for an hour or +so." + +The boys shook hands with Captain Lake again, then followed their +guide to the pier once more. Cap'n Mike waited until a scoopful of +menhaden had passed overhead then led the way down the pier. + +"I wonder if Captain Killian got set off course by that current," Rick +mused. "I'd like to talk to him." + +Cap'n Mike shot a glance at him. "Might be interesting at that. You +thinking the same as I am?" + +"We all are," Scotty replied. "That business about losing the light +and having the current set him off course sounded kind of strange." + +"Is he a good guy?" Rick queried. + +"Best there is. If he says it, it happened. But it's mighty funny just +the same. Reckon we'll have to find Jim Killian." + +They passed three trawlers, all unloading, and Rick recognized names +that Scotty had read aloud during their brief flight over the fleet. +Many of the men they passed hailed Cap'n Mike. Evidently he was well +known to the fisherman and pier workers. + +Suddenly the old man stopped. "There's Brad Marbek's craft." + +The next trawler in line was the _Albatross_. + +Rick looked it over critically. It was indistinguishable from the +others. There was the same cabin, set well forward, the same large +working space aft, the same net booms. It was no dirtier nor cleaner +than the others. Evidently it was filled with fish, because only the +top Plimsoll number was showing. But the skipper was far from average. +Brad Marbek, as Rick saw him on the deck overhead, was a bull of a +man. He was about six feet tall, but his width made him look shorter. +His shoulder span would have done credit to a Percheron horse, and +from his shoulders his torso dropped in almost a straight line. His +waist lacked only an inch or two of being as wide as his shoulders. +His legs were short and thick and planted wide on the deck. His head +was massive and set squarely on his shoulders with hardly any neck. He +was hatless and his coarse black hair, cropped short, stood straight +up like a vegetable brush. His face was weathered to a dark mahogany +color. + +"Not very pretty, is he?" Scotty whispered. + +That, Rick thought, was a masterpiece of understatement. He started to +tell Scotty that compared with Brad Marbek a Hereford bull was +downright winsome, but at that moment Cap'n Mike hailed the +_Albatross_. + +"Howdy, Brad. How's fish?" + +The skipper's reply was cordial enough. "Howdy, Cap'n Mike. Took +another good haul today. Just startin' to unload." Marbek's black eyes +surveyed the two boys briefly, then evidently dismissed them as of no +importance. "Come on aboard." + +"Thanks. We will." Cap'n Mike motioned to the two boys and led the way +up the gangplank just as a scoop full of menhaden rose from the hold +and passed overhead. + +On deck, the captain introduced the boys to Marbek. Rick found his +hand imprisoned in a horny mass that appeared to be controlled by +steel cables instead of tendons. He tried not to wince. + +"Best season I've seen in years," Marbek told Cap'n Mike. His voice +was ridiculously high and soft, out of keeping with his physique. + +"That's what everyone's saying," Cap'n Mike acknowledged. "Why, only +two days ago, I heard ..." + +Scotty nudged Rick with a sharp elbow. He was looking at the pier. +Rick turned and followed his pal's glance, then as he saw what Scotty +was looking at, he inhaled sharply. Carrots Kelso was leaning against +a pillar, watching them. + +"Wonder what's on his mind?" Rick asked. + +Brad Marbek saw the direction of their glance. "You kids know Jimmy? +He's my nephew." + +The pause before Cap'n Mike spoke was proof of his surprise. "You +don't say!" He changed the subject abruptly. "Say, Brad, I've been +meaning to ask you. Did you notice any peculiar current offshore last +night?" + +"Current? Can't say I did. Why?" + +"Bill Lake claims a strong current set him off course just as he +picked up Smugglers' Light, about the time Tom Tyler ran aground." + +Rick thought that Brad Marbek hesitated slightly and searched for the +right answer. + +"Now that you mention it, I did notice a little shift." A scoop +whirred out of the hold, crossed the pier, dumped its load and started +the return. "Let me know if you find out any more about it," Marbek +said. "Right now I guess I better attend to my unloadin'." + +"Sure, Brad," Cap'n Mike said. "We'll be getting on. By the way, +happen to know where Jim Killian is tied up?" + +"I think he's on the other side of the pier. Cross over and duck under +the belts. He should be right abeam of us." + +"Thanks. Let's go, boys." + +Cap'n Mike led the way down the gangplank with Rick and Scotty +following. Rick felt Brad Marbek's eyes on them. He had sensed +tension under the fisherman's surface cordiality, and he was +interested in the quick way Marbek had remembered the strange current +when Cap'n Mike quoted Bill Lake. + +At the foot of the gangplank, Cap'n Mike paused. "Let's find Jim. I'm +getting real curious about that current Bill mentioned. What say?" + +"We're right with you," Scotty replied. + +Rick watched the big scoop vanish into the _Albatross'_ hold, then +looked for Carrots Kelso. He was no longer in sight. "Wonder where +Carrots went to?" he said to Scotty. + +"Probably running to tell his father we're prowling around the pier." + +Cap'n Mike led the way into the pier shed. He turned to look over his +shoulder at the boys. "What'd you think of Marbek claiming young Kelso +as a nephew?" + +"Don't you think he really is?" Rick asked. He had to raise his voice +above the noise of the scoop as it lifted from the trawler's hold. + +"Surprise to me. I've known Marbek fifteen years and never heard of +any family. Why--" + +"Look out!" + +On the heels of Scotty's cry, Rick caught a glimpse of his pal hurling +Cap'n Mike headlong. He jumped forward, glancing up, just as the great +fish scoop opened over his head. He put all of his energy in a forward +leap to safety, but too late! + +Cascading thousands of menhaden crushed him violently to the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Search for a Clue + + +As Rick fell to the floor, he twisted sideways and managed to bring up +one arm to protect his head. In an instant he was buried in a great, +heavy, slippery mass of fish. His nostrils filled with the oily +stench, and when he opened his mouth to breathe, he closed it again on +a fish tail. He spat it out, and then, furious, he struggled against +the slimy weight, got his hands and feet under him and heaved. Fish +cascaded from his arched back and he broke clear just as Scotty +reached for him. + +"You all right?" Scotty gasped. + +"Yes." + +Cap'n Mike, hurled clear by Scotty's rush, was getting to his feet. + +Scotty departed on a dead run. + +Rick collected his thoughts and yelled, "Hey! Wait! Where're you +going?" + +"After Kelso," Scotty called back over his shoulder. + +Rick didn't know what had happened, but evidently Scotty did and was +doing something about it. He ran after his friend, brushing off dirt +from his clothes as he did so. He heard Cap'n Mike call, "Wait for +me!" but he didn't pause. + +At the entrance to the pier, Rick caught up with Scotty who was +looking up and down the street, his face flushed with anger. + +"He's gone. No use looking for him because he could hide anywhere +around here. But we'll catch up with him one of these days, and when +we do ..." + +"What's it all about?" Rick demanded. + +"Carrots tripped that scoop on us. I don't know how, but I know he did +it." + +Cap'n Mike came up behind them in time to hear Scotty. "He's the one, +all right. There's an emergency trip on those scoops, set in the wall. +It's in case the operator loses control. Then the scoop can be dumped +without having all that weight smash against the end of the track and +break things. Young Kelso must have punched the trip." + +"He sure did." Rick sniffed angrily. "And I smell like ten days in a +bait pail. Scotty, we've got to get home and get out of these clothes. +I can't stand myself." + +"Check," Scotty replied. "Well, I guess that wraps up the +investigation for the night, Cap'n." + +Cap'n Mike nodded. "I want to be around when you boys meet up with +young Kelso. That was as fishy a trick as I ever saw pulled." + +Rick looked at the old sea captain suspiciously. Cap'n Mike was having +a hard time to keep from laughing. Then Rick had to grin himself. +"Don't laugh too loud," he reminded. "If Scotty hadn't pushed you, +you'd be smelling like a week-old herring yourself." + +"I know," Cap'n Mike said. "Thanks." He threw back his head and +roared. + +Rick laughed, too, but when Cap'n Mike doubled up with mirth, he began +to grow a little irritated. "It isn't that funny," he said, a little +tartly. + +Scotty chuckled. "Maybe this is what amuses him." He reached over and +plucked a small menhaden from the breast pocket of Rick's jacket. + +"Dangdest place to carry fresh fish I ever saw," Cap'n Mike said, and +went off into gales of laughter again. + +Rick took out his handkerchief and mopped his face. "Well," he said, +grinning, "I'm sure glad those menhaden weren't whales." + +They drove home to Whiteside with all windows wide open and newspapers +on the seat to protect the car, but even so, the stench of oily fish +made Rick feel a little queasy. + +"We can't go to Spindrift like this," he complained. "Tell you what, +I'll take the wood road that goes down by the tidal flats. Then one of +us can cross over, get clean clothes for both of us and some soap and +towels. We can go to Walton's Pond, take a swim, scrub off the fish, +and change." + +"Good idea," Scotty agreed. "But these coats and pants will have to be +dry cleaned." + +"That's easy. There's a night service door at the cleaners where we +can just push them through." + +Scotty chuckled. "You won't get any thanks for that. The whole dry +cleaning place will smell like a fish market before morning." + +"We'll wrap them up good in plenty of newspapers." + +"Where do we get the papers?" + +"From the _Morning Record_. I want to go there, anyway." + +Scotty gave him a sideways glance. "Got an idea?" + +"Just a glimmer." Rick's lips tightened. "And I'll tell you something +else. Until now, this case was just sort of interesting for itself, +but now I have a personal interest. I think the Kelsos are at the +bottom of it." + +"And we owe them a debt," Scotty finished. "Carrots, anyway. What do +you suppose he dumped the scoop on us for?" + +Rick shrugged. "Sheer poison meanness. And weren't we warned not to go +to Seaford?" + +An hour later, when they had cleaned up, the boys returned the car to +Gus, apologized for the faint but definite aroma of dead menhaden, and +walked to the _Morning Record_ office. + +Duke Barrows, a veteran newspaperman but young in years, greeted them +cordially. "Hello, Rick, Scotty. Here are those cards you asked for." +He swiveled his chair around and regarded them with interested eyes. +"Getting anywhere on that Seaford yarn?" + +"We're still feeling around," Rick replied. "But there's a good story +in it if we can find the lead." + +"Keep working then," Duke said. "I'll pay you space rates if it hits +page one." + +"How much is that?" Scotty wanted to know. + +"Twenty-five cents a column inch on this sheet. You didn't expect to +get rich, did you?" + +Rick returned Duke's grin. "If this story is as good as I think it is, +we'll just about get rich. You'll want to cover the whole front page +with it." + +"Can't be that good," Duke returned. + +Rick looked around the office. "Where's Jerry?" + +"In the composing room. He'll be back in a minute. Got anything on +your mind?" + +"Just an idea. Do you keep a file of New York papers?" + +"Over there. On the shelf. Help yourself." + +Rick nodded his thanks. "Let's go give my idea a try, Scotty." + +Scotty tucked his press card into his wallet. "I could probably help +if I knew what the idea was." + +Rick explained briefly. He wanted to check the shipping sections for +the dates when the _Albatross_ had been seen at Creek House. He +particularly wanted to know what ships had arrived at New York at noon +or before on those dates. He was interested in ships arriving from +southern ports in the Caribbean, or from southern Europe. That, he +figured, would give them only the ships that might have been standing +off Seaford in the early hours before dawn on the critical dates. He +had a vague idea that he might find some sort of similarity in the +ships that had been off Seaford on the critical dates. The registry +might be the same, or the ownership. + +But when the compilation was complete, there were no similarities at +all. In fact, so far as he could determine, no ship had been off +Seaford during the time he had chosen as having the best +possibilities. + +As they walked toward the Whiteside boat landing after saying good +night to Duke and Jerry, Rick rapidly reviewed all they knew about the +wreck of Tom Tyler's trawler and the events at Seaford. + +"I sure thought I had the connecting link," he said. "I still think +so, even if there wasn't any evidence in the papers. It's the only +answer that makes any sense." + +Scotty nodded. "Keep talking." + +"Okay. The Kelsos suddenly arrive at Seaford and move into Creek +House. Then the _Albatross_ starts making visits at a time when no +fisherman in his right mind would pay calls. So Brad Marbek must be +going to Creek House on his way back from the fishing grounds for a +good business reason. Right?" + +"It figures. Go ahead." + +"Tom Tyler spied on Creek House, and he found out something. Red Kelso +warned him, and Tyler refused to take the warning. Result: his ship +was wrecked. We don't know how yet, but we'll find out. Another thing: +Mrs. Tyler was frightened, and Tom Tyler is afraid to talk. What's +your guess on that?" + +Scotty kicked a pebble out of the path. "Kelso again. When Tyler +didn't take the first warning, his trawler was wrecked and he was told +that next time something would happen to his family. That's the only +threat they could make stick with a man like Tyler. If they threatened +him, he'd laugh at them. But if they threatened his wife and little +girl ..." + +"That's the way I see it, too. Now, what kind of business requires a +boat, a house on a secluded part of the beach, and a guard with a +rifle?" + +"Smuggling," Scotty said flatly. + +Smuggling. It was the answer that fitted. Rick didn't know yet what +kind of smuggling, but he intended to find out. "If you were the +Kelsos, and if you were bringing contraband into Creek House, how +would you get it out of Seaford?" he asked. + +Scotty thought it over. "Not trucks," he said. "Cap'n Mike said he +hadn't seen any trucks calling at Creek House. How about taking it +somewhere in a small boat?" + +In his mind's eye Rick saw the countryside surrounding Creek House as +he had seen it from the air. "Right up Salt Creek," he said excitedly. +"How about that? If they unloaded at the pier when the _Albatross_ +came in and then reloaded into a motor dory or some other kind of +small boat, they could take it right up Salt Creek to the bridge. Then +all they would need would be a truck waiting there. And if they did it +late at night, there wouldn't be any traffic to worry about." + +"That must be it!" Scotty exclaimed. Then he sobered. "But how are we +going to find out if that's the answer?" + +There was only one way. "I guess we're just going to have to see for +ourselves," Rick said. As they passed the dry cleaning establishment, +he took the bundle of newspaper-wrapped clothes he had been carrying +and dropped them into the night-service opening. A whiff of departed +menhaden smote his nose forcefully and he added grimly, "Believe me, +it'll be a pleasure!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +The Old Tower + + +Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unit +to his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. "I _should_ get a +picture," he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors. +He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only an +actual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the rather +slow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn't give enough +light 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 two +hundred. + +It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared was +light. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight would +cast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would be +able to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb. + +Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register the +reflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsion +had been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. The +motion-picture film had been made at his special order. It was not a +stock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon could +have measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment. +Rick wasn't skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic wave +analyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in the +library and couldn't be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance to +ask his father before he tested the camera. + +He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to do +some figuring. + +Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waited +expectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. "It's an out-of-town +call, for either one of you." + +"We'll take it up here, Mom," Rick called back. He and Scotty raced +for the landing. + +Scotty reached the phone first. "Hello?" He nodded at Rick. "It's +Cap'n Mike." + +Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with the +Seaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. + +Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we're +coming 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 it +was, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn't come down +this morning." + +"Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna." Rick grinned. "By the +way, 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 little +before he went and looked up the answer." + +Scotty had phoned at Rick's suggestion to find out from Jerry's +newspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence of +smuggling at Seaford. + +"He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either the +Coast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we had +something more than suspicion to go on." + +"A good idea," Rick agreed. "It wouldn't do to get the government all +steamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we'd be +laying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let's go see if +Mom 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 they +tied 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 old +captain 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 will +lose his license sure as shooting. And that's not all. He'll find +himself 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 out +his legs. "Let's hold a council of war. If we're going to do +anything, we'd better have a plan of action." He told Cap'n Mike of +their suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged in +smuggling and waited for the old man's reaction. + +Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. "Now! It could be that you +boys 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's +only worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tell +you many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escape +paying duty on them." + +"Suppose they _are_ smuggling," Rick pointed out. "How do we prove +it?" + +"Catch 'em red-handed," Scotty said. "Red-handed instead of +redheaded." + +Rick and Cap'n Mike groaned in unison. + +It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick had +given some thought to it before going to sleep. "There are a couple of +ways we might do that," he said. "First of all, we know they have to +get rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House until +it's moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in the +hotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night." + +"Not practical," Scotty objected. "Mom would object to our staying out +all night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer before +the 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 we +know when the _Albatross_ is going to visit the Kelsos?" + +"Cap'n Mike tells us. Cap'n, according to what you said when we were +here before, the _Albatross_ sometimes stays at Creek House until +almost midnight. That means that it takes them awhile to unload +whatever they're smuggling." + +Scotty had an objection. "If they were doing any unloading, wouldn't +you have seen them, Cap'n Mike?" + +The old seaman shook his head. "Nope. I didn't dare get close enough +to see what was going on. Besides, my eyes ain't what they were at +night. I just sat off the end of Salt Creek, letting the reeds hide +me, and saw what I could, which wasn't much. If I'd gone up the creek +any distance, they'd have spotted me against the sea." + +Rick finished, "So you see, if Cap'n Mike could keep an eye on the +creek, he'd know when the _Albatross_ arrived. If he phoned us right +away, we could be here within an hour, or even a half-hour, if we took +the fast boat." + +"Sounds sensible," Scotty admitted. "Any other plans?" + +"Just one, which isn't very practical. We could get someone to fly out +over the fleet during the most likely hours and wait for the +_Albatross_ to make contact with the supply ship. I wish we could fly +at night, but we can't. The contact has to be during the darkness, and +I think before dawn is the best time. If Brad Marbek made contact +after he got through fishing, some of the other trawlers might see +the ship coming. Then they might get curious and hang around to see +why Brad was hanging back. Maybe that's what Tom Tyler did." + +"But if he left and made contact before dawn, the others might think +nothing 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 the +same time. And Brad has been coming back as far as Salt Creek with the +rest. So I guess Rick guessed right." + +Cap'n Mike did some figuring. "Tell you what. I can sit on the beach +at the edge of town with a pair of night glasses. I'll borrow some. I +can 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 Drug +Store. We'll start tonight." + +Scotty got up and yawned. "That's settled. Now I'd like to look into +something. We can't overlook any possible lead. Rick, remember the +tower?" + +"Yes." Rick got to his feet, too. "And I remember something else. That +business about the shifting current and the light. Cap'n, have you +talked to Captain Killian?" + +"Not yet, but I surely will today. That may be worth something." He +walked with them toward the pier. "But what's this tower business?" + +Rick explained briefly. "We'll stop there on the way back to +Spindrift." + +"Phone us if Captain Killian has anything interesting to say," Scotty +requested. + +"I will. Now you boys be careful. Keep a weather eye out, and don't +forget those warnings." + +"We're not likely to," Rick assured him. + +As they sped past the Seaford water front toward Smugglers' Reef, Rick +plotted 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 they +would hurry from Spindrift by boat, since it would take too long to go +to Whiteside and try to get a car. The Cub was out; there was no place +to land at Seaford. + +The best way of finding a good hide-out from which to watch the Kelsos +would be to take a photograph from the air. He could do that this very +afternoon and develop it at home. An enlargement, which the photo lab +at 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 asked +Scotty. + +"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 until +later." + +"Guess that's right," Rick agreed. He swung the launch around the tip +of 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 the +trawler or on the reef. He put the launch close in shore at the sandy +strip near the Creek House fence, and Scotty jumped to the beach with +the anchor as before. + +Rick joined him on the sand. "Now for a look at the tower. Where did +you see the marks?" + +Scotty pointed to the rusted structure. There were four upright +girders slanting inward from the base to where the top platform had +been. Horizontal girders held the structure together one-third and +two-thirds of the way up. "The marks are on the first row of +cross-pieces," he said. "On this side." + +The steel climbing ladder was on the Seaford, or opposite side, of the +tower halfway between the uprights. Rick looked at it dubiously. "It's +pretty 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 the +lightest. I'd better do it." + +"You're not that much lighter," Scotty objected. "Tell you what, let's +flip 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 making +sure it wasn't tails on both sides, then handed it to Rick with a +grin. "Can you always call your shots like that?" + +"Only on Wednesdays." He gestured toward the high board fence that cut +them off from Creek House. "Look, just to be on the safe side, you +keep an eye open for the Kelsos. If you see them coming, give me a +yell. I don't think they'd dare try anything in broad daylight, but +you can never tell." + +"All right. I'll stick near the boat." + +As Scotty walked back to the launch, Rick went to the base of the +tower and looked up. The frame seemed secure enough in spite of the +rust. He jumped for the first rung of the ladder and hauled himself +up. In a moment he was on the horizontal girder. The scratches Scotty +had seen from the air were clearly visible. To reach them, he had to +work around the girders to the opposite side. He stood up and found +his balance, then walked easily to the corner girder, rounded it and +crossed 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. He +could look right into the windows of the second floor--except that the +windows were so dirty that he couldn't see much. Suddenly he froze. +One of the second-floor windows was being raised. He saw a vague +figure behind it, but it was dark in the room and he couldn't see +clearly. There was no reason to be disturbed about it, yet he felt a +quick wave of apprehension. He had better look over the scratches and +get out. + +Holding on to the corner girder, he crouched and leaned outward toward +the marks. There were two bright scratches about a foot apart. Between +them the entire rust surface had been disturbed. Something had rested +there, or, more likely, it had been clamped. He swung back a little to +look at the inner side of the girder and saw continuations of the +scratches that terminated in round spots. When he leaned forward to +look at the outer side, the marks were there, but so slight that they +wouldn't be noticeable unless one were looking for them. + +His brows creased. He couldn't think of anything that would make marks +just like those. He wished he had brought a camera. A photo would have +given them something to study later. + +Then, as he turned and started back, something whistled over his head +and slapped sharply into the upright girder. His first thought was +that 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 the +strength drained from his knees. A few inches over his head were +silvery splashes against the rusty surface, and they were the silvery +marks 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 the +inner edge and he rolled free on the opposite side. For an instant he +dangled in space, then he dropped, his knees flexing to take the shock +of landing. It wasn't much of a drop, a little over fourteen feet. And +as 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, both +of them were cut off from Creek House by the high board fence. But to +get clear they would have to come out of the fence shelter and into +the 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, "Stay +close to the reef and pick up speed. Get going." + +The launch was already in motion. Rick dropped into the seat next to +Scotty and his pal pushed the gas pedal all the way. The nose lifted +and the stern dug in. + +Rick turned to watch, and as the second floor of Creek House came +into view, he said, "Give it all you've got. Cut sharply across Salt +Creek and the rushes will cover us." + +"Hang on!" Scotty snapped. He threw the wheel hard over and the launch +rocked up like a banking plane, then he leveled off and the boat shot +across 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 to +dill 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 to +get my hands on that little playmate. Did he miss you by much?" + +"About six inches. Both shots hit the same place, within an inch of +each other." + +Scotty frowned thoughtfully. "Then my guess is that he wasn't trying +to hit you. If he's good enough to place two shots like that, he +wouldn'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, what +about reporting this to the police?" + +Scotty shook his head. "No proof. No witnesses. It would be your word +against his, because he could claim he was just target practicing and +that you weren't on the tower when he fired. He could even claim he +didn't fire the shots, because the slugs would be so spattered that +the 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 us +hightailing out of there like a couple of frightened jack rabbits." + +"It would have been stupid to stay and get shot at," Scotty pointed +out. "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're +going back and build a fire under Mister Carrots. Wait and see!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Night Watch + + +Less than a half-hour after arriving at Spindrift, Rick and Scotty +were back at Smugglers' Reef. But this time they were in the Cub. With +Scotty operating Rick's speed graphic camera, they took several photos +of Creek House, Salt Creek, and Brendan's Marsh from varying +altitudes. Then Rick swung in a wide circle, losing altitude, and +leveled off only a hundred feet over the marsh. He was headed straight +for Creek House. + +Scotty paused in putting the camera in its case and looked at him. + +Rick winked. "Going to see if the Kelsos are home." + +The Cub flashed across Salt Creek and Rick pulled the control wheel +back into his lap. The small plane shot upward in a zoom that just +cleared the hotel, then at the top of the zoom Rick did a fast wing +over and started back. + +"I know you can fly," Scotty said calmly, "but don't try to roll your +wheels on the roof." + +Rick shot across the hotel within five feet of the chimney and dropped +so low that his prop wash flattened the reeds in the marsh. Then, +climbing again, he swung wide and went over Seaford at a legal +altitude. He was, even the critical Gus admitted, a safe-and-sane +flier, but the temptation to get back at Carrots Kelso a little was +too much. High over the town, he turned to Scotty. "I didn't see +anyone. Now, if you were in the house and a crazy pilot buzzed you +twice, what would you do?" + +"Run out and look," Scotty said promptly. + +"Uhuh." Rick was enjoying himself. Whether his scheme worked or not, +he liked it. "And if the plane was out of sight, what would you do +then?" + +"I'd go far away from the house, so it wouldn't block my view, and +look for it." + +"The farthest you can get away from Creek House, without running into +the fence, is at the end of the pier." + +Scotty broke into laughter. "I hope I never have you for an enemy. +What'll you bet Carrots doesn't go to the end of the pier?" + +"No bets. But I'm hoping." + +Rick turned inland. When he was out of sight of the town, he lost +altitude in a tight spiral over Salt Creek. At five hundred feet, he +banked around and followed the creek, his throttle wide open. As the +Cub flashed over Salt Creek Bridge, he put the plane in a shallow +dive. Creek House loomed and he let out a yell of triumph. + +Carrots Kelso was standing on the end of the pier, looking at the sky! + +Rick pointed the nose of the Cub directly at him and held it there. He +saw Carrots turn at the noise of the plane, saw his mouth open to +yell and his eyes pop. Rick hauled the stick back into his lap and +kicked left rudder. As the Cub spun around he banged Scotty with his +free hand and chortled with glee. + +Carrots, afraid for his life, had gone headlong into the creek. + +"That pays him back for shooting at you," Scotty said with +satisfaction. "Bet he was more scared than you were. But we still owe +him for those fish." + + * * * * * + +Two of the photos proved excellent for their purposes. Scotty, who had +taken an interest in developing and printing, made a 10 by 14-inch +enlargement of each. They spent most of Thursday studying them, +talking over their various clues endlessly, and waiting for Cap'n +Mike's call. Shortly after supper on Thursday night he did call, but +only to say he had nothing to report and that he hadn't been able to +talk to Jim Killian. The fisherman was taking a few days off to visit +his mother in Pennsylvania. + +"A fine time for him to go vacationing," Rick said, "when he might be +able to supply some essential information. I've got an idea, Cap'n," +he added. "Can you find out what source the automatic light uses for +electricity? See if it has its own power plant or whether there's a +cable that runs along the reef. If there is, see if there's a junction +box or a switch or anything." + +Cap'n Mike promised to have the information next time he called. + +They were too restless to sit still and read. Rick had thought about +asking his father to help him check the infrared spotlight in the lab, +but Hartson Brant was preoccupied with a scientific analysis problem, +so Rick decided to check his new invention by actual use. + +Dismal was the subject. The boys took him for a walk to the backside +of the island where there was no light at all except for dim +moonlight. Scotty carried the power supply on a strap over his +shoulder while Rick carried the camera and its attachments. The thing +was uncanny, even when its operation was understood. To the naked eye, +Dismal was just a vague blur under the trees. But with the infrared +searchlight on him, Rick could see him through the telescope as though +it were white light. He shot a few feet of film, then took it to the +photo lab. He could develop short lengths by dipping them into bottles +of solution, although full lengths would have to go to a New York lab +for processing. + +Projecting the test length cleared up his questions. The camera worked +beautifully at distances up to three hundred yards. Beyond that, +although things still could be seen, the lighting was poor and +definition hazy. + +He spent more time in the darkroom winding the infrared film on +hundred-foot rolls and placing them in light-tight cans, then he +reloaded the camera with a full spool. That done, there was nothing to +do but wait and try to read. + +On Friday night, Scotty glanced up from the leather chair in Rick's +room. "What time is it?" + +Rick was lying on the bed, studying the ceiling and working on the +problem of the tower scratches and the shifting current. He looked at +his watch. "Ten of nine. Why?" + +"Almost time for the trawlers to be getting back to Seaford." + +"As though I didn't know it! Unless we get a call within the next +half-hour, we might as well forget it for tonight, too." + +Scotty went back to his book. Rick resumed staring at the ceiling. It +had occurred to him that there was an old wrecker's trick, well used +in the days of sailing ships. The trick was to extinguish a navigation +light so ships would run aground and be easy prey for the wreckers. +And sometimes the wreckers helped out by raising false lights. Now if +the automatic light at the tip of the reef could be cut off, and if a +false light were raised on the old tower . . . they just had to talk +with Captain Killian! Bill Lake thought a shift of current and a patch +of mist had been responsible for him losing the light and putting him +off course. But what if Smugglers' Light had been cut off and a false +light lighted on the old tower? + +Rick snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" + +Scotty looked up. "Got what?" + +Just then the phone rang. + +The boys almost fell over each other in their haste. Rick got to it +first and said a breathless hello. + +"Cap'n Mike speaking. Rick?" + +"Yes!" + +"Brad just turned up Salt Creek. I'll be in my shack waiting to hear +about it, boy. And say, the automatic light works by a cable. Cable +comes down the pole in front of the Creek House fence and goes into a +metal box. From there it goes underground to the light." + +"Thanks a million," Rick said exultantly. "We'll see you sometime +tonight, Cap'n." He hung up and turned to Scotty. "Let's go!" + +They ran down the stairs and almost barged into Mrs. Brant. "Got to +hurry, Mom." + +"Where to, Rick?" + +"Seaford," he said. "We'll take the boat. Don't worry, I don't think +we'll be out too late." + +Mrs. Brant's eyes were troubled. The boys had told the Brants +something about events at Seaford. "Be careful, you two," she said. + +"We will," Scotty assured her. + +They had every intention of being extremely careful. Hartson Brant, +who had been on expeditions with the boys, had every confidence in +their ability to look out for themselves. But Mrs. Brant, like all +mothers, had some reservations. + +As they ran down the stairs to the landing, Scotty asked, "What was it +you said you had just before the phone rang?" + +"Tell you when we get underway," Rick returned, and as they sped +through the water at over thirty miles an hour toward Seaford, he did +so. + +"I think I know how the _Sea Belle_ was wrecked. But if I'm right, the +Kelsos were taking a terrific chance." + +"They're the kind who take chances." Scotty peered through the +windshield at the dark sea. Behind them, their wake was white and +turbulent. + +"Well, here's how I figure. The Kelsos knew there was no sea traffic +off Smugglers' Reef except for the Seaford fleet, because the coastal +traffic moves pretty far offshore. They also knew that no one goes +down the old road past the hotels at night because there's nothing +there. And anyway, if a car came, they could see its lights." + +Rick paused. "There's a hole in this theory. In fact, there are a +couple of them. I'm guessing that Tom Tyler was the first skipper to +get into port a good percentage of the time. If he was, and if they +knew it, they could arrange with Brad Marbek to stick close behind him +and give them some sort of signal. If they had glasses on the ships, +they could see even a flashlight, couldn't they?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And if they were at the very top of Creek House, in the attic room, +they could see the lights of the ships coming in before the ships saw +Smugglers' Light!" + +"What are you driving at?" Scotty demanded. + +"Smugglers' Light is small. It's strictly for local navigation. Now +suppose one of them was in the attic with glasses, waiting for the +ships. Tom Tyler comes over the horizon first, Brad Marbek right +behind him. Brad makes a signal. Maybe he blinks his masthead light. +By that, they know the next ships are pretty far behind and Tom Tyler +is in front. The man in the attic signals. They turn off Smugglers' +Light from the junction box in front of the hotel and light up their +own light on the crossbeam of the old tower. When Captain Tyler comes +over the horizon far enough to see the light, what he sees is the +Kelsos' light. But he doesn't know that. He gives it leeway as usual; +he's used to passing it close because there's plenty of water. Then, +when he's within a short distance of it, the light goes off. He keeps +on course, thinking something has happened to the light, and piles on +the reef." + +"And as he piles up, the real light is put back on!" Scotty +exclaimed. + +"Yes," Rick said excitedly. "And the man with the light in the tower +just removes it, gets down, and runs for Creek House before the men on +the _Sea Belle_ have even picked themselves up!" + +"It makes sense," Scotty agreed. "And how! Of course Tom Tyler knows +he's been tricked the minute he hits, and he knows why. So does Brad +Marbek, but he's in on it. Bill Lake, who's pretty far behind, thinks +the shift in the light is due to a patch of mist and a strong current. +But how about Captain Killian? He was closer to the light." + +"That's why it's important to get his story," Rick said. His eyes had +been scanning the dark coast line ceaselessly. Now, picking up the +start of Brendan's Marsh, he turned the wheel and swung out to sea. + +Their study of the photographs had convinced them that the best way to +approach Creek House was from the rear. To do that, they had to pass +far enough out at sea so their engine noise would not be too +noticeable and attract the attention of the Kelsos. Rick took a quick +look around and saw no other boat lights. He leaned forward and +snapped off their own. + +In a few moments they saw the lights of Creek House and Smugglers' +Light. When they were well past it, Rick turned inshore, throttled +down to make as little noise as possible. There was a short dock in +front of the abandoned Sandy Shores Hotel. He gauged distance +carefully in the dim light and let his momentum carry him to it. +Scotty jumped out and made the bow fast while Rick cut the engine +completely and hurried to secure the stern. In a moment they were on +the dock together looking toward the Creek House. + +"Let's go," Rick whispered. + +They made their way as noiselessly as possible behind the old hotel, +then picked a careful path through accumulated junk past the rears of +the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, and the Shore Mansions. Twice they +had to climb rusted fences and Rick was grateful that they had put on +old clothes. Presently they were against the Creek House fence. + +He touched Scotty's arm and gestured. Then he led the way toward the +place where the fence stopped at the marsh. They had planned the +adventure up to the end of the fence. After that they would have to +take advantage of whatever offered. + +They hadn't seen in the photograph that the fence extended into the +marsh for a short distance. Rick's first inkling of the fact came when +one foot sank into muck above the shoe top. He let out a soft +exclamation, and when he pulled the foot free it made a sighing sound. + +The boys held a whispered consultation and decided there was nothing +for it but to continue. Rick stepped forward, searching with his foot +for firmer ground. Now and then he found a hummock, but there were +times when he sank to the knee in clinging goo. Fortunately, there +were only a few feet of swamp to navigate. + +He reached the end of the fence and stopped, peering around it. + +There were lights on the pier, and the _Albatross_ was tied up to it, +but the lights were too dim to illuminate anything over a few yards +away. He crouched and moved over a little, making room for Scotty. +Together they surveyed the terrain. + +"We can't see much from here," Scotty said, lips against Rick's ear. +"We'll have to get closer." + +Rick nodded. He motioned along the fence, indicating that they should +follow it, then he took the lead again. In a dozen muddy steps they +were out of the marshland and on dry ground again, but Rick had to +exercise utmost care because there was a litter of dry junk that +crackled underfoot. He picked his way carefully, hardly daring to +breathe loudly. + +Once he froze and felt Scotty tense behind him. Brad Marbek and Red +Kelso walked from the hotel to the pier and stood looking upstream. +Their backs were to the boys. Rick started moving again. There were no +lights in the hotel on the fence side. He wanted to reach the safe +darkness of that area before planning their next move. As he went, he +wondered where Carrots was, and what had happened to Brad's crew. + +They reached the dark space between the hotel and the fence without +incident and Rick straightened up with a little breath of relief. Now +what? He reviewed the photograph of the hotel grounds in his mind. + +Scotty tugged his sleeve and pointed. Rick looked up and saw that a +window was open on the first floor. The room behind it was dark. For a +second he was tempted, then he shook his head. Going into the hotel +was dangerous, even though they probably could make their way to an +upper floor and have an unobstructed view from a window. If they were +trapped inside ... he didn't like the thought. At least their retreat +was open while they were out of doors. The top of the fence was within +reach if they jumped. They could swing over it and run. Once outside +the fence, the Kelsos would have a hard time catching up with them. + +He remembered that the front of the hotel and part of the area on the +creek side contained shrubs, relics of its original landscaping. The +shrubs would give them cover. He touched Scotty and motioned. Then he +started around the front of the hotel, crossing the driveway, which +led into the grounds through a gate, closed now and looking like part +of the fence. + +The front of the hotel was dark. Swiftly he went past the porch, +moving through the shrubbery with extreme caution. He gained the +corner nearest the creek safely, Scotty behind him. When he peered +around, he had a good view of the dock. Red Kelso and Brad Marbek were +still talking. No one else was in sight. Somewhere inside, a door +banged. Rick stiffened. That must be Carrots, or one of the crew. + +He moved forward, spotting a hedge that had marked the edge of the +garden. If they crouched behind that, they would have an unobstructed +view. He dodged a shrub and reached the hedge; it was just waist-high. +He sank to his knees and parted the twigs, searching for a good view +through them. Beside him, Scotty knelt and did the same. + +He put his mouth close to Scotty's ear. "This is a good place," he +whispered. + +"It's a fine place," a loud voice said. "Get up, both of you!" + +Rick whirled, his heart stopping. He looked straight across the front +sight of a rifle into the grinning face of Carrots Kelso! + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Captured + + +"I figured it was time for another look around," Carrots said, "so I +came out the side door and went around the back and up the side by the +fence, then crossed over by the front. And just as I got to the +corner, who did I see but our two wise-guy pals!" He poked the rifle +in Rick's back by way of emphasis. + +Red Kelso and Brad Marbek looked at the two boys and then at each +other. Marbek looked up the creek nervously. "Better get 'em inside +under cover," he said in his high voice. "Jimmy, take 'em into the +cabin." + +Rick was seething inwardly, but he gave no sign. He was angry with +himself. He should have known that there would be a guard. + +He walked down the pier, Scotty at his side, the others following. At +Carrots' direction he climbed over the side of the trawler and went +into the small cabin aft of the wheelhouse. + +Red Kelso gestured toward a built-in bunk. "Sit down, both of you." He +went to the single window and slid the curtains shut. + +Carrots took up a position in the corner from which he could cover the +two boys. Brad Marbek pushed into the cabin and closed the door behind +him. For a dozen heartbeats there was silence. + +Red Kelso broke it. "What now?" he asked heavily. "We've got 'em. What +do we do with 'em?" + +Rick spoke up with much more boldness than he felt. "Nothing. Half a +dozen people know we came here." + +Marbek and Kelso exchanged glances. + +"We can't just let 'em go," Carrots said. His glance at Rick was +vindictive. "This is the smart joker that dove at me in his airplane. +I owe him somethin' for that." + +"Be quiet, Jimmy," Red Kelso said. "We've got to think about this." + +There was a hail from outside. Marbek started. "Red! Come outside. +Jimmy, watch these two." + +Carrots lifted the rifle a little. The two older men went out and +closed the door. Rick, listening carefully, thought he could hear +oars. + +Scotty spoke up. "You're a good shot with that thing, Rick says. You +put two shots right together over his head." + +"I should have picked him off," Carrots snarled. "I ought to put a +shot in his head right now for makin' me jump off the dock." + +"That evened us up," Rick said quietly. "You dumped the fish on us." + +Carrots grinned his satisfaction. "You're tootin' I did! And that +ain't all I'm goin' to do to you, either." + +"Don't be too sure," Scotty said. + +Carrots' thin lips tightened. "You got warned. Twice. What happens to +you is on your own head." + +The door banged open and Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came in again. For +some reason they seemed in better spirits. Marbek was grinning. + +Kelso stood before the two boys, his seaweed-green eyes surveying them +coldly. "All right. Talk. What did you want in here?" + +Rick and Scotty remained quiet. + +"Don't make me beat it out of you," Kelso warned. + +Rick thought quickly. He jerked his thumb at Carrots. "You can blame +him. First he dumped half a ton of menhaden on us and then he took a +shot at me while I was climbing the old tower." + +"Why were you climbin' the tower?" Marbek demanded quickly. + +Rick shrugged, nonchalantly, he hoped. "Why does anyone climb a tower? +Just for the fun of it." + +Carrots snorted. "Nuts! Then why didn't you go all the way to the +top?" + +Red Kelso's eyes swiveled from his son to the boys. "Let's cut the +comedy," he snapped. "Jimmy had nothin' to do with your comin' here. +Now give us a straight story or you'll suffer for it!" + +Rick's mind was working at top speed. He couldn't tell them +everything, but he might be able to stall. + +"You warned us," he said. "Twice. Anyway, we thought it was you, then +your son just admitted it." He grinned at Kelso. "We had to find out +why you were warning us, didn't we?" + +Red looked at Carrots and then at Brad. "I told you it was a mistake +to try to warn 'em off," he grated. "All right. Did you find out why +we warned you?" + +"We didn't have time," Scotty pointed out. "We had just arrived when +we got caught." + +Brad Marbek's high voice was cold. "Do you think my coming here is +funny?" + +Scotty's reply was equally cold. "You're not trying to kid anyone that +you tie up at this pier before unloading your fish just because you +want to be sociable, are you?" + +Marbek took a step forward. Red Kelso's hand on his shoulder +restrained him. Rick held his breath, wondering if Scotty had said too +much. + +"Okay, you snoopers," Red said. "You're goin' to take a nice long look +around, see? You're goin' to do exactly what we say, and you're goin' +to find out for yourselves just what's goin' on here. Now how do you +like that?" + +"Fine," Rick said feebly. There didn't seem to be anything else to +say. + +"Start at the house," Brad growled. "Get goin'." + +On deck, Rick took a quick look around. Nothing had changed, nor was +anyone in sight. With Carrots' rifle at their backs, he and Scotty +marched to the side door of the hotel. Inside Red Kelso pointed at +another door. "Open it and go downstairs. Step on it, we haven't all +night." + +Rick caught his breath. Why were they forcing them into the cellar? A +little fearfully, he went down the stairs as Red snapped on lights. + +At the bottom of the steps, the three faced them. "Start lookin'," +Brad commanded. "Go on. Stick your noses in every corner. Get busy!" +He gave Scotty a shove that sent him staggering in the direction of +the coal cellars. Then Red Kelso gave Rick a hard push that landed him +on his knees. + +The boy stood up again and looked around him uncertainly. "What do you +want us to do?" + +"Look," Red snapped. "That's what you came for. Look in every blasted +corner until you're satisfied there's nothin' more to look for. Now +get goin'!" + +And Rick and Scotty looked. Even though they knew now nothing would be +found in the old house, they had no choice. With the three hovering +over them they searched in corners, under stairs, in bins. They +sounded walls and rapped floors. As they passed through the kitchen, +four men were playing cards, evidently members of Brad's crew. They +inspected the butler's pantry and even the refrigerator, then they +were pushed on through the other first-floor rooms and up the stairs. + +Rick was tired of the whole affair, but every time he hesitated, Brad +or Red gave him a headlong shove that kept him moving, and always +Carrots was behind with the rifle. When there were no bulbs in the +rooms a flashlight Red produced provided illumination. Room by +tiresome room they worked their way to the attic. + +From the attic they were run down the stairs again and out into the +grounds and forced to cover every inch of land. Then they were taken +to the garage-boathouse and made to work their way through what had +been the servants' quarters. Downstairs, they inspected the only car, +and Rick automatically made a mental note of the make and the New York +license number. Then they looked under the seats and into the rope +locker of a motor whaleboat that was the only craft in the boathouse, +and they were forced to crawl under the boathouse where it rested on +piles. + +"Now," Brad Marbek said grimly, "let's take a look at the trawler." + +"Do we have to?" Scotty said wearily. "We know you wouldn't make us +look if there was anything to be seen." + +Brad's big hand landed in the middle of his back, smashing him toward +the dock. "March!" he commanded. + +The tiresome routine started again. Through wheelhouse and cabin and +galley and enginehouse and rope and gear lockers they hunted, picking +up accumulated layers of dirt and grease on the way, until finally +only the huge fish holds were left. + +Rick looked into the forward one and thought, "Oh, no!" He started to +protest, but Brad's open hand caught him on the side of the face. +"Dig!" the skipper commanded. "You asked for it. Dig!" + +And dig they did, through tons of stinking menhaden and cold ice until +they choked and their mouths felt full of scales. Once or twice they +protested, but there was always big Brad Marbek ready to strike out +and Carrots and Red Kelso backing him up. + +An eternity later they clawed their way up the pile of fish in the +last hold. + +Rick took a deep breath of clean air. "Anything else?" he asked. + +Carrots stepped forward. "You poor jokers got dirty," he said with +false concern. "You need a bath." He pointed to the end of the dock. +"Go on, jump in." His rifle lifted menacingly. + +That, at least, was no hardship. Rick walked to the end of the dock +and dropped into the water, savoring is cool cleanliness. Scotty was +right beside him. + +Overhead, the three waited, and Carrots' rifle was still on them. +"Back to the bank," he commanded. + +Rick and Scotty swam, clambered up on shore, and stood waiting. + +"Hike." + +They were herded like two sheep to the front gate. Red Kelso produced +a key and the gate swung open. + +"You had your look," he said. "You came to spy and we helped you out. +Now you know there's nothin' wrong here. We warned you because we +didn't like you, see? And that's all. Now get goin' and don't ever +come back, or we'll work you over so you'll never be the same again. +Now git!" + +They were shoved violently forward and landed sprawling on the hard +macadam road. Behind them the gate slammed shut, and as they got to +their feet and looked at each other ruefully, the sound of Carrots' +raucous laughter was like salt on raw flesh. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The Hearing + + +"You two have certainly got your nerve, going back to Seaford after +that," Jerry Webster said. + +"We'll stay away from the Kelsos and Brad Marbek. Don't worry about +that," Rick assured him. "But we're not giving up, are we, Scotty?" + +"Not on your life," Scotty replied flatly. + +Jerry's car bounced over Salt Creek Bridge and sped toward the Seaford +turnoff. The boys had phoned him early in the morning and found that +he had learned about Tom Tyler's hearing during his routine phone +calls to the Seaford authorities, and that he was going down to cover +it. + +They had met him at the Whiteside dock, and on the way down had +brought him up to date on their part of the case, including their +humiliating experience of the night before. + +"So your theory about smuggling must be wrong," Jerry said. +"Otherwise, you'd have found something." + +"I'm not convinced," Rick argued. "It's still the only answer that +fits." + +"Then where were the smuggled goods?" + +"We could have gotten there too late," Scotty reminded. "If it was a +small shipment, it could have been unloaded and disposed of before we +showed up." + +"Disposed of? How?" Jerry wanted to know. + +Rick recalled that he had heard the sound of oars while in the cabin. +Red and Brad had rushed out right away, too, after hearing a hail. +"They might have taken the stuff up the creek," he mused. "They might +even have had a truck waiting at the bridge. There's not much traffic, +so it wouldn't be too great a risk. And even if a car came, they could +pretend the truck was changing a tire or something until it passed." + +"That's reasonable," Jerry admitted. "Did you talk it over with Cap'n +Mike?" + +Rick grinned ruefully at the memory of the two soaked, bedraggled, +filthy specimens who had knocked on Cap'n Mike's door last night. "We +were in no mood even to think about it," he said. "But we did find out +one thing. Cap'n Mike said it would be easy for anyone to disconnect +Smugglers' Light and then reconnect it. All he would need would be an +insulated screw driver." + +"And that's not all," Scotty added. "He said Tom Tyler was first one +back from the fishing grounds eight times out of ten because the _Sea +Belle_ was the fastest boat in the fleet and the best handled." + +The more Rick thought about it, the more he was convinced that his +theory of the wrecking of the trawler would hold water. Cap'n Mike had +plugged up another hole, too. Rick had wondered about the backside of +the light. He had noticed that there was a red sector on the +townside, a common method of construction on lights of that sort. On +Cap'n Mike's chart, shaded areas showed how the light worked. It was +visible from the seaside in an arc of 180 degrees. It was dark in the +quadrant toward the marsh and red in the quadrant toward the town. But +warehouses and pier sheds blocked off the light from almost all of the +town except Million Dollar Row, and since the red portion would be out +for only a short time, it was long odds against anyone noticing it or +investigating if they did. + +"It's pretty sound," Rick said. "Only I wonder if we'll ever prove +it?" + +"Not in time for this morning's hearing, that's for sure," Scotty +commented. "Maybe Captain Killian will have something to say. If he +ever gets back." + +Cap'n Mike had tried unsuccessfully last night to see Jim Killian. He +was still visiting his mother. + +Jerry's car rolled down the main street of Seaford toward the town +hall. Rick could see that an unusual number of cars was lined up along +the curbs. The hearing was attracting a great deal of interest, as +could have been expected. He wondered if the Kelsos would be there. + +Jerry pulled into a convenient parking space. As they got out, he +asked Rick, "Got your camera?" + +Rick held it up. "We've got our press cards, too. That makes us legal +spectators for a change." + +"For a change is right," Scotty said. "Lead the way, Jerry." + +The hearing room was on the second floor. Jerry pushed his way through +the crowd in the corridor with Rick and Scotty following, and found +the entrance. A police officer stopped them at the door, then +permitted them to enter when they showed their press cards. Rick +wondered if the hearing would be closed to the public, but when he got +inside he saw that every seat was taken. He recognized a face here and +there, including that of Bill Lake. The others he recognized were +fishermen he had seen during their trip to the pier with Cap'n Mike. +Evidently some of them were taking the day off because of the hearing. + +The room was actually a small courtroom. Like most courtrooms, it had +a low fence dividing the spectators from the participants. At a table +inside the fence, Tom Tyler was seated with four other men. Rick +guessed from their appearance that they must be the members of his +crew. One had an arm in a sling and he remembered Cap'n Mike had said +the wreck had caused one broken arm. + +Jerry spoke to a man who seemed to be someone of authority, and they +were directed to seats in the front row. Across the aisle Rick saw +Mrs. Tyler and the little girl who had been with her on that first +night. The captain's wife looked pale, but she seemed composed. Then +he switched his glance to the captain himself. + +Tom Tyler seemed thinner in the few days since the wreck of his ship. +He stared at the table before him, seemingly oblivious to the murmur +of voices in the room. Rick felt compassion for him. If the theory +proved correct, Tom Tyler was the victim of unscrupulous men who had +wrecked his ship deliberately, just to remove danger from their path. + +He speculated about what might have caused the actual decision to +wreck the _Sea Belle_. There was only one sensible conclusion. +Captain Tyler must have used the trawler to spy on Brad Marbek. +Wrecking the ship would serve a double purpose: it would remove the +possibility of further spying on Brad and it would warn Tyler that the +smugglers meant business. After that, simply telling him that his +family would suffer if he kept on would strike home. Until the wreck, +he probably had been inclined to treat Kelso's warning lightly. + +A door to the left of the judge's rostrum opened and three men came +out. One was a Coast Guard commander. The other two were civilians. A +whisper from Jerry informed Rick that they were officers of the United +States Maritime Commission. + +Rick turned to see if the Kelsos or Brad Marbek were in the room. He +was curious about Cap'n Mike, too. While he was searching the rows of +faces, the procedure started. A clerk got up and announced something +about the hearing being held before the duly authorized board of +inquiry in the case of the wrecking on Smugglers' Reef of the motor +vessel _Sea Belle_, of so many tons, and such and such a registry +number, Thomas Lee Tyler, master, holding licenses numbers so and so. +Jerry nudged Rick and pointed to the camera. Rick nodded and inserted +a flash bulb. He caught the clerk's eye and held up the camera. The +clerk frowned, then motioned him to come inside the rail. Rick did so +and snapped a picture of the tribunal. Then he turned and got a photo +of Tom Tyler and the men at his table, with the audience in the +background. He looked at Jerry. The young reporter nodded, indicating +that two pictures would be enough. + +Rick resumed his seat. + +The middle man on the platform leaned over and asked, "Who is +representing Captain Tyler?" + +Tom Tyler stood up. "No one, sir." + +A murmur ran through the courtroom. + +"Captain," the man asked, "do you mean you have come into this hearing +without counsel?" + +"Sir, I'm pleading guilty to whatever the charge is. I don't need a +lawyer for that." Tyler sat down again. + +There was whispered consultation among the three on the bench. Then +the spokesman leaned forward again. + +"Captain, as I understand the facts presented by the officers who +investigated, if you plead guilty you will, in effect, state that you +deliberately wrecked your ship. If you so state, your insurance +company will have no recourse but to ask your arrest on a charge of +barratry. Do you understand that?" + +Tyler's shoulders straightened. "If that's the way it is, sir, I guess +that's the way it is. I'm pleading guilty." + +The murmur in the court rose. + +Rick leaned over to Jerry. "He's scared stiff. He must be, to take +this lying down." + +But if the Kelsos had threatened Mrs. Tyler and their little girl, +there wasn't much else he could do. Wrecking the trawler had shown him +they were capable of carrying out any threat. Rick was glad he had had +presence of mind the night before to say that other people knew he and +Scotty were going to Creek House. He was sure that had the Kelsos and +Brad thought that no one else knew, their fate would have been much +different. + +A hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up into the face of the officer +who had been at the door. + +"You Rick Brant?" + +He nodded. + +"Cap'n Mike is outside. Says it's urgent. He wants you and Don Scott." + +"We'll come right away," Rick said. He leaned over and explained to +Jerry. "We'll meet you outside. Come on, Scotty." + +As quietly as possible he and Scotty left the room just as the +spokesman for the board declared that the hearing would proceed. + +Cap'n Mike was on the steps in front of the town hall. His weathered +face lit up at the sight of the boys and he greeted them with a note +of worry in his voice. "Come on down to the sidewalk out of earshot of +these folks," he said in a low tone. + +They followed him to a place where the crowd thinned out, then Rick +asked, "What's the matter, Cap'n? Anything important come up?" + +"Important? I'll say it's important!" Cap'n Mike leaned forward. "Jim +Killian has disappeared!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The Missing Fisherman + + +Captain Jim Killian, the fisherman who had been closest to Brad Marbek +and Tom Tyler, and who might have been able to say finally whether +Rick's theory was true or not, was missing! + +"Cap'n, are you sure?" Rick asked. + +Cap'n Mike nodded soberly. "Sure as I can be. That's why I had to talk +to you boys." + +"When did you discover he had disappeared?" Scotty queried. "You said +he had been visiting his mother." + +"That's just it. Took me all this time to remember." Cap'n Mike shook +his white head. "Reckon I'm getting old. His mate said he'd gone to +visit his mother, so I thought no more about it. Until this morning. +Then I remembered. Jim Killian never knew his mother. He was brought +up by an uncle and aunt, both of them dead ten years now. Struck me +all of a sudden. It had sort of been nagging at the back of my head +that something was fishy about that mate's story anyway, so this +morning I went to his house and I collared him." + +"Did you get anything out of him?" Rick asked eagerly. + +"Not much. Jim Killian showed up at his trawler the morning after Tom +Tyler wrecked the _Sea Belle_. He just told the mate to shove off +without him, and said if anyone asked, he was visiting his mother, who +was sick. And I'm sure that's all the mate knows, except that he knew +Jim Killian didn't have a mother." + +Rick pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He showed up himself? Then he must +have left of his own free will. At least he wasn't kidnapped. But why +would he run away?" + +His eyes met Scotty's and he knew his pal was thinking the same thing. + +"He was threatened," Scotty said. + +"Looks like it. Suppose he had let a word drop that night about +something being a little off the beam about Smugglers' Light?" It +sounded reasonable to Rick. "The Kelsos would have paid him a visit +for sure." + +Cap'n Mike wagged his head sadly. "I sure pinned a lot of hope on Jim +Killian. After you explained what might have happened to Tom, I was +sure Jim might have something real useful to add. But it looks mighty +bad now." + +"Mighty bad," Rick agreed. Their effort to catch the Kelsos red-handed +had boomeranged on them and now what might be proof of their theory +had vanished. + +"We'd better find him," Scotty said. + +"How?" Cap'n Mike asked hopelessly. "We can't go to the police, 'cause +Jim went off of his own will, which he has a perfect right to do." + +For a moment Rick was about to suggest that they could have the +police hunt him as a material witness, then he rejected the idea. +Witness to what? Tom Tyler had admitted running the _Sea Belle_ on the +reef purposely, or next thing to it. No, the only solution was to find +Captain Killian. But where to begin? + +"Put yourself in his place," he suggested to Cap'n Mike. "You've known +him a long time. If you were hiding out, where would you go?" + +"I've thought about it," the old seaman said. "Don't do no good. This +is the first time Jim Killian has left town in twenty years, except to +go into Newark or New York for a day's shopping." + +"Where did he live?" Scotty asked. + +"Little Cape Cod cottage over near Tom Tyler. Lived by himself." + +"We might start there," Rick said. + +"Good a place as any," Cap'n Mike agreed. "Let's get going." + +Rick shook his head. "We have to wait for Jerry. Let's sit in the car. +I don't think the hearing will last very long. Tom Tyler is pleading +guilty." + +They walked to Jerry's car and settled down to wait. Through the +windshield Rick watched the townfolk clustered around the courthouse +steps and noted that they weren't talking much. He guessed everyone in +town knew there was something extraordinary about the wreck of the +_Sea Belle_ and he wondered if anyone suspected smuggling activities +at Creek House. + +He said aloud, "If the Kelsos and Brad Marbek took the stuff up to +Salt Creek Bridge before we got there, what boat did they use? The +boat we saw in the boathouse was dry, and the boats on the _Albatross_ +were hanging on the davits. Maybe we're all wet on that, too." + +"Maybe," Scotty agreed glumly. "I've never seen a deal with so many +dead ends." + +Cap'n Mike sounded alarmed. "You're not giving up, are you, boys?" + +"Not a chance. We'll get to the bottom of this sooner or later." +Scotty spoke for both of them. + +Cap'n Mike pointed. "The crowd's coming out." + +Evidently the hearing was over, because those who had waited inside +the building and those lucky enough to get seats were coming out. +Presently Jerry Webster came out, too, tucking his notes into his +jacket pocket. He joined them in the car and greeted Cap'n Mike. + +"You look like three mourners," he told them. "What's the matter?" + +Rick explained briefly, then asked, "Got any bright ideas?" + +"Afraid not," Jerry replied. "Finding someone is a tough job even for +the police with all their facilities. I don't know how you'd even +start." + +"We thought of looking his house over," Rick said. + +"I wouldn't do that," Jerry replied quickly. + +"Why not?" + +"You said he left of his own accord, didn't you? You can bet he locked +his house up tight. If you try to get in, you'll be guilty of breaking +and entering. And even if he left a door open, you've no right to go +in. You can bet the neighbors will be on the phone to the constable's +office if they see anyone fooling around the house." + +"You're right," Rick agreed gloomily. + +"There goes his mate now," Cap'n Mike said. "Must have been at the +hearing." He pointed to a slender man in a cap and lumberjack's shirt +who was crossing the street in front of town hall. + +"Think he told you all he knows?" Rick asked. + +Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Don't know. Maybe he did, +and again maybe not. Chick's a quiet one. Never says much and there's +no way of telling what goes on inside his head." + +"Let's follow him," Scotty suggested. + +Jerry looked at him. "What for?" + +"For lack of anything else to do," Scotty said. "Can't tell. We've +nothing to lose, anyway." + +Rick watched the mate reach the opposite sidewalk, then stand +uncertainly for a moment, looking back across the street. Then, +evidently satisfied, he started off at a brisk walk. It was almost as +though he had looked to see if anyone were coming after him, Rick +thought. + +"Scotty's right," he said quickly. "Let's go after him." + +Jerry started the car and pulled away from the curb. He grinned at +Rick. "Good thing it's Saturday. No paper until Monday morning, so +I've plenty of time. But tell me what to do. I'm green at this +business." + +"Go slow," Rick said. "Watch him." + +The mate reached a corner, looked behind him, then turned down the +side street. + +"Go after him," Rick directed. "Go right on by him and don't anyone +look at him. Cap'n, better crouch down. He knows you, but he doesn't +know the rest of us." + +Jerry swung into the side street and picked up speed. From the corner +of his eye Rick saw the mate walking rapidly. He told Jerry to turn +right at the next corner and to slow down. The blocks were short; the +mate would pass the corner in a moment. + +"Do you know where he lives?" Rick asked the captain. + +"Not on this side of town. He lives out in the district toward the +main road." + +"Any guesses about where he might be heading?" + +"Maybe Jake's Grill. It's this way and I've seen him there." + +Rick directed Jerry to go on to the next corner and wait. Then he +turned and watched the corner they had just passed. If the mate kept +straight on the side street, they would go around the block. If he +turned down the street they had taken, they would simply round the +corner again. + +The mate turned and came after them. + +"Around the corner," Rick directed. "Cap'n, where is this Jake's +Grill?" + +"If you'd turned left instead of right just then," Cap'n Mike replied +as Jerry finished the turn, "you'd have been about at it. It's halfway +down the block." + +Rick made a quick decision. "Okay, here's where we split up. I'll get +out and go to Jake's. The rest of you keep trailing him. If he goes +into Jake's, turn around and park at the next corner where you can see +the entrance. If he doesn't, follow him and pick me up later." + +As they nodded assent, he got out of the car and waved Jerry on, then +he walked swiftly in the opposite direction. He crossed the street +from which they had just turned, and caught a glimpse of the mate from +the corner of his eye. The man was still walking rapidly. Rick paid +no attention to him. He walked at a moderate pace down the street, +pausing once to look in a shop-window. A side glance showed him the +mate, still coming. Rick resumed walking and came to Jake's Grill, a +shabby sort of place with only a half dozen customers. He walked in +without hesitation and took a seat at the counter. + +The counterman came up and wiped the counter clean in front of him +with a rag that might have been white once upon a time. "What'll it +be?" + +"Coffee," Rick said. He was in a good position, because the back of +the counter was lined with a flyspecked mirror through which he could +see the whole restaurant. + +The mate pushed the door open and paused at the entrance. He reached +in his pocket and brought out a crumpled handful of bills and some +change. He counted the change, then searched the pocket for more. +There was none. He started for the counter. + +He must need more change. For what? Rick's quick survey of the place +showed him a phone booth in one corner. Quickly, as the mate +approached, he fished out a dollar and thrust it at the counterman. +"Got any change? I have to make a phone call." + +The counterman took the bill and walked to the cash register. The mate +cast a quick glance at Rick, then called, "Sam, I need some change, +too. Give me some nickles and dimes for this half-buck." He tossed a +fifty-cent piece on the counter. + +Rick relaxed. Perhaps some of the townfolk had seen his and Scotty's +pictures in the paper, but evidently the mate wasn't one of them. +There had been no recognition in the man's eyes. + +The counterman handed Rick a dollar in change and gave the mate some +smaller change. He winked. "Gotta call yer girl, Chick?" + +"Sure have," the mate answered. He had an odd voice, as though his +nasal passages were completely blocked with a bad cold. He looked at +Rick. "Go ahead, kid, make your call." + +"After you, sir," Rick said politely. "I'm in no hurry." + +"Thanks." The mate walked to the booth and shut himself in. + +Rick got up and wandered casually in that direction, his ears cocked +for the mate's words. Unfortunately, the booth was tight. He could +hear only a faint murmur. He went back to the counter and started +sipping his coffee, keeping his eyes on the booth. He heard the dim +tone of bells and his pulse quickened. Those were coins dropping into +the slots. The mate was making an out-of-town call! If only he could +hear! + +The hot coffee was almost scalding, but he scarcely noticed. His mind +was racing, searching for some way to overhear that conversation. +There just wasn't any way. If he walked over and put his ear to the +booth, the men sitting at the tables and farther up the counter would +see. No, he was sunk this time. + +Within four minutes the mate was out of the booth. He came over and +took a seat at the counter a few stools up and nodded at Rick. +"Thanks, boy." + +"That's all right," Rick said. He had to make a pretense of phoning +now. Well, he could call Spindrift and tell his mother they would be +home for lunch. He hadn't been sure how long the hearing would take +when they left. + +He went into the booth and closed the door. The phone had no dial. +Evidently Seaford, like Whiteside, had no dial system. He started to +pick up the receiver and inspiration struck him. If he could imitate +the mate . . . + +He tried to imitate Chick's nasal tone and thought he did pretty well. +He tried again, and it sounded a little better. Anyway, he thought, +there was nothing to lose by trying. If Seaford had more than one +operator on the town switchboard, which was unlikely because of the +size of the town, it wouldn't work, anyway. Or, if there were two and +he got the wrong one it wouldn't work. + +His hand shook slightly as he lifted the receiver and dropped in his +nickel. + +"Number, please?" the operator said sweetly. + +Rick struggled to imitate the mate's voice. "Say, I have to talk to +that number again. Something I forgot to say." + +"What number was that, sir?" the operator asked. + +Rick took a chance, based on the number of bells he had heard. + +"That New York number," he said. "Forget now what it is. Ain't you got +it written down there?" + +"I'll have to have the number, sir," the operator said with firm +sweetness. + +Rick grew desperate. "Shucks, lady," he whined nasally. "You ain't +goin' t'make me go through that business with that information gal +again, are you?" + +There was a subdued tinkle of laughter. "All right. I'll find it." +There was a brief pause. "That number is Cornish 9-3834. Better write +it down this time." + +"I sure will," Rick said. He almost forgot and lapsed back into his +own voice. But he didn't have to write it down. He wasn't forgetting +it. + +"What is your number, please?" + +He gave it, then waited anxiously. In a moment a voice said, "Garden +View Hotel." + +The operator spoke. "One moment, please. Please deposit thirty cents." + +Rick did so, and the bells clanged in his ear. When the ringing +stopped, he said briskly, "Mr. James Killian, please." + +"Just a minute." Then, "No one registered here by that name." + +"Isn't this the Garden Arms Apartments?" Rick asked. + +"No. This is the Garden View Hotel. You have the wrong number." + +"Oops, sorry," Rick said jubilantly, and hung up. + +He walked to the counter and gulped his coffee, put a dime on the +counter and then hurried to the door. The mate was eating a piece of +pie. + +On the street, Rick looked for Jerry's car and spotted it at a corner +two blocks away. He walked rapidly toward it, waving as he did so. The +car pulled away from the curb and sped toward him, and he motioned to +Jerry to turn the next corner. He hurried and got there just as the +car did. + +"Any luck?" Scotty asked. + +"Luck? Touch me, somebody. Listen to this: Captain Killian is at the +Garden View Hotel in New York, registered under a phony name!" He told +them quickly what had happened in the grill and finished, "I'll bet +the mate had orders to phone right after the hearing and let Killian +know what had happened to Tyler." + +"He was handed over to the constable after the insurance company +issued a complaint," Jerry said. "Forgot to tell you that. Well, we +know where this missing captain is. Now what?" + +"Now what! What do you think?" Rick asked indignantly. "Let's go to +New York!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +The Tracker + + +"We can drop your pictures off at the office, then I'll drive you in +to New York, if that's okay," Jerry remarked, as the car sped up the +road to Whiteside. + +"That will be fine," Rick said. "I'll phone Spindrift, too, and let +Mom know we won't be home for lunch. We can pick up a hamburger at a +roadstand on the way in." + +Jerry slowed down to a more moderate pace and Rick looked at him, +surprised. "Thought we were in a hurry." + +"Trying something," Jerry said. His eyes were on the rearview mirror. +After a moment he spoke. "The car behind us slowed down, too. I think +he's following us." + +Cap'n Mike started to look back, but Scotty said warningly, "Don't! If +they're really following, we don't want to let them know they've been +spotted." + +"There's a curve up ahead, Jerry," Rick said. "Keep your eyes on that +car as we round the curve and let me know when they're out of sight." + +"Okay." + +The curve loomed. Jerry took it smoothly, then glanced up at the +mirror. "Now," he said. + +Rick reached up and readjusted the mirror so he could see, then +settled back. In a few seconds the other car was in sight, too far +back for him to see the figures on the license plate, but not so far +that he couldn't see clearly that the plate was from New York, or that +the car was the same make and model as the one they had seen in +Kelso's garage. Reflection of light on the windshield made the +occupant hazy, but Rick had a good idea who it was. + +"Looks like Kelso's car," he told the others. "Listen, Jerry, don't go +to the paper. Drop us in front of Dean's Department Store, then go +around the block. Go slowly to give us time to find out who this bird +is. No, I've got a better idea. Park the car. He'll have to park his +if he intends to follow us." + +Jerry nodded agreement. "There's a parking lot next to the store. I'll +swing in there." + +Cap'n Mike was grinning from ear to ear. "I'll be dadblamed if this +ain't just like something I read once," he said. "I knew if I got you +two interested we'd have some excitement!" + +Jerry chuckled. "What do you think I want to take them into New York +for? I usually go swimming on Saturday afternoon." + +They were at the outskirts of Whiteside now. Jerry slowed speed again, +and three minutes later he swung into the parking lot next to Dean's, +in the busiest part of the town. Through the rearview mirror Rick saw +the other car go by, heading for a vacant space at the curb, probably. +He had noticed one a half block down. + +The four got out of the car and Jerry took the parking check from the +attendant. "Now what?" he asked. + +"We walk down the street," Rick directed, "and if we haven't spotted +him by the time we get to Mark's Supermarket, turn into the store. It +has two entrances." + +"If we split up, he'd get confused and we'd lose him easy," Jerry +suggested. "Then we could meet somewhere." + +"Amateur," Scotty scoffed. "We don't want to lose him. We want to find +out who he is." + +Rick and Scotty led the way, Cap'n Mike and Jerry following. As they +passed the parked car, Rick saw the license plate clearly. It was the +one he had noticed at Kelso's. Probably Carrots or Red, he thought. +Maybe both. Without seeming to look around, he noted every possible +hiding place where the tracker might wait for them, and decided on the +doorway of an office building. There were a half dozen pillars the +tracker could use for cover. He waited until they were a half block +down from the building, then he turned suddenly as though to speak to +the two behind him. Scotty, whose mind worked much the some way, +turned at about the same time. + +Rick got a quick glimpse of a stocky youth with carrot hair dodging +into a doorway. He stopped and said, "Don't look back. I've got him +spotted. Let's go into Mark's and we'll figure out how to get rid of +him." + +"Carrots," Scotty said gleefully. "We'll have to think of something +really cute for that little friend." + +"Fiend," Rick corrected. + +They turned into the supermarket and mingled with the shoppers. Rick +led the way behind a counter stacked high with cereals where they +couldn't be seen. "The meeting is open to suggestions," he said. "We +can shake him with no trouble, but that's too good for him. Any +ideas?" + +"Lead him on a wild-goose chase," Jerry offered. + +Scotty had a grin on his face that boded ill for Carrots Kelso. "I've +got one. I saw it pulled once. Jerry, do you suppose Mildred is at the +office?" + +Mildred Clark, the older sister of one of Barby Brant's closest +friends, was the newspaper's bookkeeper. She had been a visitor at +Spindrift several times, accompanying Jerry to picnics or swimming +parties. + +Jerry looked at his watch. "It's Saturday afternoon, and she usually +doesn't work, but we're getting out our monthly statements, so she's +probably there." + +"Swell. Now how well do you know the cop on this beat?" + +"We're good friends. I gave him a plug in the paper once. He deserved +it, but he thinks I did it out of the goodness of my heart." + +Scotty's grin widened. He lowered his voice and rapidly sketched the +part each was to play. As he talked, Rick, too, began to grin. + +When Scotty had finished, Rick and Cap'n Mike sauntered to the front +of the store. Rick glanced through the big plate-glass windows, but he +saw no sign of Carrots. That meant nothing, because Carrots would be a +complete cabbagehead to let himself be seen. Rick was sure he was +watching. He and Cap'n Mike stood talking for a moment, then Scotty +appeared beside them, and said, "Well, here goes--Jerry's on the phone +now," and faded into the crowd again. + +Rick let five minutes elapse while he and the Captain stood in plain +sight, then he glanced at his watch and motioned to the old seaman. +The two of them went out the front of the store. Long before this, +Scotty and Jerry had gone through the side entrance that opened on +another street. + +Rick waited in front of the store, glancing in now and then, and +trying to act impatient. Then he and the Captain started up Main +Street at a slow walk. If everything was working out, Carrots would +have chosen to follow them rather than to wait at the store for Scotty +and Jerry. That was what Rick would have done in his place. He had a +hunch Carrots had picked them up in Seaford and had followed them +largely because of Cap'n Mike's presence. It was entirely possible +that the Kelsos were equally anxious to know of Captain Killian's +whereabouts. Or perhaps they were just interested in seeing if Cap'n +Mike knew where he was. + +As they passed Dean's Department Store, Rick glanced into the doorway +and saw Mildred Clark. He breathed a little easier. The others had +made it on time. And coming down the street toward him was the +policeman who always patrolled this beat. Although he knew Rick well, +he made no sign. + +They neared the entrance of the parking lot and Jerry motioned from +behind a car. He was peering down the street behind them. "Watch +this!" he said gleefully, and stepped into plain view. + +Rick whirled just as Carrots Kelso came abreast of Dean's doorway. +Mildred stepped out ahead of him. She was a slender, attractive girl, +and a good actress, as it proved. She was pulling on gloves, and as is +usually the case while so doing, she had her purse tucked under her +arm. + +She and Carrots were only a yard apart when Scotty appeared from the +doorway. He took a long step past Carrots, snatched Mildred's purse +from under her arm, whirled, and handed it to the astonished redhead. +Carrots' reaction was perfect. He took the purse stupidly and stood +there with his mouth open. + +Scotty vanished back into the doorway. Mildred screamed. + +Carrots saw immediately that he was being framed. He turned to run, +but forgot to let go of the purse. Mildred screamed again and Carrots +sprinted headlong into Duke Barrows. Duke held him for the moment it +took for the policeman to arrive. + +It was too good to miss. Rick, Jerry, and the Captain walked back down +the street toward the confusion, trying hard to conceal their mirth. + +Mildred pointed at the purse Carrots still clutched. "That," she +proclaimed dramatically, "is my purse!" + +"I didn't take it," Carrots yelled. "Someone handed it to me!" + +The officer scowled. "A likely story! Unless you had a confederate. +Where is he?" + +Quite a crowd was gathering now. Mildred turned convincingly faint and +Duke had to prop her up. Rick's face was scarlet from choking back +laughter, because he was sure Carrots would burst from sheer anger at +any moment. + +Then Carrots saw him. "You!" he screamed and jerked the policeman's +arm. "There he is! That's one of them. His friend took my--I mean it +was his friend who--" + +The officer interrupted. "Do you know this boy?" he asked Rick. + +Rick shook his head, his face solemn. "Never saw him before in my +life," he said calmly. + +Jerry spoke in a stage whisper that could have been heard a block. "A +perfect criminal type if I ever saw one." + +Cap'n Mike choked and had to turn away. + +Rick nudged Jerry and they turned and walked rapidly back to the +parking lot. It was time to get going. + +Scotty was standing by the car, grinning broadly. Cap'n Mike was weak +from laughing. "Y'know," he chortled, "I've heard the word 'ham' used +for actors, but I never got the full meaning until now. Never saw such +bad acting in my life, except for the girl. She was almost +convincing." + +"On our way," Rick said, and laughter bubbled up as they got into the +car. As they pulled out into the traffic, they saw Carrots being +marched up the street toward the police station, Duke and Mildred +walking behind him and the policeman. + +"Duke phoned the chief from the paper," Jerry said. "They'll go +through all the motions of booking Carrots and taking his picture, +then they'll throw him in a cell for a while. When he quiets down, the +chief will go in and talk to him like a father and point out that +crime doesn't pay, then he'll let him go with a warning." + +Scotty sobered. "It worked like a charm," he said. "But Rick, old egg, +from now on you and I had better stay away from the front end of +Carrots' little air gun!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Captain Killian + + +Jerry turned down the cross street and looked around him doubtfully. +"I don't know what a fancy hotel would be doing in this neighborhood, +Rick." + +"We don't know how fancy it is," Rick returned. "It just has a fancy +name. But keep going. We should get to it soon. See any numbers?" + +They had stopped and found the address in a telephone book as soon as +they crossed the river into New York through the Holland Tunnel. As +Jerry pointed out, it wasn't a likely neighborhood in which to find a +hotel. It seemed to be mostly manufacturing plants engaged in making +gloves and ladies clothes. + +"Wonder how he happened to choose this location?" Scotty asked. + +"Probably just came into the city and walked down this way and went +into the first hotel he saw," Cap'n Mike speculated. "Man gets used to +a fishing trawler, he's not going to ask for anything fancy by way of +a hotel." + +Jerry and Rick had been scanning the numbers along the street. "It's +on your side," Rick said. "Watch for it." + +Jerry applied the brakes and the car slowed. "That must be it," he +said, pointing across the street. + +It wasn't what Rick had expected. A tiny metal sign announced that +this was the Garden View Hotel. It was set above a dingy doorway +through which a flight of stairs could be seen. + +"Where's the garden it's supposed to have a view of?" Scotty wanted to +know. + +Rick motioned in the general direction of uptown. "Probably Madison +Square Garden. You could see it from here easily if there weren't +about two thousand buildings in the way including the Empire State." +He was wondering if they had the right place. "This calls for a small +change in plans," he said. + +On the way to New York they had decided it would be easiest to give a +bellhop a generous tip and have him locate Captain Killian for them. +Bellhops usually knew about every guest in a small hotel, and they +suspected the Garden View would be small simply because none of them +had ever heard of it. + +"You're right," Scotty agreed. "A place like that wouldn't have a +bellhop." + +Rick searched for an idea. "You wouldn't know his signature on the +register, would you. Cap'n?" + +"Never seen him sign his name." + +"Why couldn't one of us be a relative looking for him?" Jerry offered. + +"Say, that's an idea!" Scotty exclaimed. "We could pretend he's a +little cracked and describe him. The clerk would know who we meant, +and he'd probably be glad to tell us, because hotels don't like +having people who might be a little bit off." + +"Cap'n Mike could do it," Rick said. "Cap'n, couldn't you pretend to +be his brother?" + +"Sure I could. Well, what are we waiting for? Do I go alone?" + +"I'll go with you," Rick offered. + +"Jerry and I had better wait, then," Scotty said. "It might look funny +if four of us came trooping in like a chowder-and-marching club." + +Jerry spoke up. "That's okay, except don't forget I'm to talk with him +if he has anything to say. Have to get an interview for the paper." + +"We'll bring him down," Rick promised confidently. "Let's go, Cap'n." + +The stairs leading up into the hotel were creaky with age, and the +accumulation of dust and dirt showed months without a broom. At the +top of the stairs was what had once been quite a nice lobby. But now +the rug was worn to strings and the wallpaper had acquired a glaze of +dirt that made it look like ancient newspapers. Behind the scarred +ruin of an oak counter stood a clerk so fat Rick wondered how the +floor could support him. He was reading a comic book, and he didn't +even look up as they came in. + +Cap'n Mike addressed him politely. "Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you +can help me?" + +Tired eyes looked up from the comic book. "What can I do for you?" The +words and tone were surprisingly courteous. + +"I'm looking for my brother," Cap'n Mike said. "He's a man about my +height, five years younger, still a lot of black in his hair. Red +complexion, pretty well lined. Smokes a corncob pipe. His real name is +Killian, but I don't think you'd know him by that." He touched his +head significantly. "Mind is going. He thinks he's being persecuted." + +"What makes you think he might be here?" + +Cap'n Mike's expressive face assumed a look of infinite sadness. +"Once, many years ago, he spent his honeymoon here. Lost his wife +shortly after in an auto crash, but since his mind went he won't +believe she's dead. Even though it was nigh onto twenty years ago. +Poor soul. Keeps looking for her. We try to keep him home, so he +sneaks off and takes an assumed name. Found him here once before." + +"When?" the tone was suspicious. "I've been here five years myself, +and I don't remember anything like that." + +"Oh, it was longer ago than that," Cap'n Mike added hastily. "Must be +over eight." He coughed apologetically. "We've had him in an old +seaman's home for a few years, but he wasn't happy there." + +Rick looked at Cap'n Mike with admiration. When it came to spinning a +convincing yarn right off the cuff, so to speak, Cap'n Mike was a +master. Rick hid a smile. What had the old man said about ham actors a +little while back? + +The clerk was nodding slowly. "Old seaman, is he? Well, that fits one +of our guests." He looked at Cap'n Mike sharply. "Sure it's all right? +Who is this boy?" + +Cap'n Mike put his hand on Rick's shoulder. "This? Ah, sir, it's this +boy's poor mother old Jim came here to find." + +Rick bowed his head and looked as sad as possible. He had to bow it +anyway, to conceal the grin that was forcing its way to the surface. + +"What room is he in?" Cap'n Mike asked tenderly. "Poor old soul." + +"I'll call him." The clerk went to the switchboard and plugged in a +line, then pulled the toggle switch a couple of times. He picked up +the phones and put them on. "Mr. Jameson? Your brother and son are +down here to see you." + +Rick held his breath. + +The clerk unplugged the line and put the phone down. "He'll be +downstairs in a minute." He went back to his comic book. + +Rick and Cap'n Mike went over to a sofa and sat down. As they did so, +a little cloud of dust rose. + +The minutes ticked away. Rick fidgeted. + +He leaned over close to Cap'n Mike. "What do you suppose is keeping +him?" + +"Don't know," Cap'n Mike whispered back. "We'd better see." He rose and +walked to the desk again. "He's slow in coming, sir. I'm just wondering. +Remember I said he thought we were persecuting him? He may ... well, +sir, I wonder if we could go up?" + +There was a trace of alarm in the clerk's face. "Maybe you better," he +agreed. "Room 410. Three flights. Two floors up." + +Rick and the Captain hurried for the stairs, went up them two at a +time. To Rick's surprise the old man kept pace with him. On the fourth +landing they paused and looked up and down the shabby corridor. One +door was open. Rick ran to it and looked at the number. It was 410. He +rushed into the room, a tiny box with only a bed, a washstand and a +closet. It was empty. He flung the closet door open and saw a +suitcase. + +"He's gone," he called, and rushed back into the hall again. Cap'n +Mike already was trying other doors. All of them were locked except +the bath, and that was empty. + +Rick ran the other way, to the end of the hall where a window stood +open. Fire escape! He leaned far out the window and looked down into a +maze of back alleys. Then his searching eyes saw a figure scurrying +through them, heading east. + +"Cap'n," he called. "Hurry downstairs! Tell Jerry to cut around the +block. He's heading east, the same way the car is. I'll go after him!" +He swung a leg through the window and jumped to the steel fire escape +as Cap'n Mike rushed for the stairs. + +Rick went down the open steel stairs as though he had wings. As he +passed the second floor, he saw the clerk's mouth open to call. Rick +didn't wait to see what he had to say. Perhaps he was trying to tell +him Captain Killian had gone down, too. The clerk would have seen him. +Rick shook his head. The captain must have waited on the fire escape +until they started up the stairs in order to avoid being seen through +the window. + +The last flight was counterbalanced. He stepped on the stairs and they +swung down with a faint groan. Then he was on the ground. He turned +east and ran, leaping over fallen trash and barrels. He had a picture +of the alleys in his mind, so he took all the right turns but one. +That one brought him into a dead end. He backtracked quickly and found +the right way out, and in a moment he came out on the avenue. He +stopped on the curb and looked both ways, spying Jerry's car on the +uptown side, cruising along slowly. He started to call, then realized +Jerry wouldn't hear him. Better to wait. If the car hadn't reached the +avenue before Captain Killian, it was a good bet that they had lost +him. He scuffed his shoe on the curb disgustedly. + +Jerry swung into the next cross street, apparently with the intention +of going completely around the block. And Rick saw a figure step out +of a doorway the moment the coast was clear! The man fitted the +description Cap'n Mike had given. Rick turned his back hurriedly and +walked leisurely in the opposite direction. Then he turned into an +alley between two buildings and peered out. Captain Killian was +walking briskly uptown. Rick saw him turn right at the next corner, in +the direction opposite from that Jerry had taken. + +Once Killian was out of sight, Rick turned and ran uptown, crossing +the avenue. At the corner the seaman had turned, he slowed and looked +around cautiously. It was a long block. The captain was about halfway +down it. Rick debated. Jerry, if he had gone around the block, would +appear on the avenue in a moment, probably one block farther up, since +he wouldn't retrace the street in front of the hotel. + +Rick decided to take the chance. This part of town was almost +deserted, because it was late in the afternoon, and few offices were +open on Saturdays, anyway. They could spot Killian easily enough now +that he knew which direction he had taken. He ran to the next corner +and had to wait only a few seconds before Jerry's car appeared across +the street. He put fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. +Jerry tooted the horn and shot across the avenue to him as the light +turned green. + +"Straight ahead," Rick said. "With luck, we'll meet him at the corner, +unless he turned downtown." + +The car roared through the narrow street to the next corner and +stopped. Rick and Cap'n Mike piled out, and the Captain went to meet +the man who had stopped short at their sudden appearance. + +"Howdy, Jim," he said. + +Captain Killian snorted. "So it's you. Thought I recognized you +through the window. What d'you want? And how did you know where to +find me?" + +Cap'n Mike smiled. "As to the second, I got some excellent spies +working for me now, Jim. As to the first, you know right well what I +want." + +"You ain't gonna get it, Mike O'Shannon. I didn't leave town for my +health. I left for a good reason, and I'm going to stay lost. So get +back in the car with them kids and get out of here. Otherwise, I +reckon I'll have to yell for a cop." + +"You won't do that," Cap'n Mike said shrewdly. "If you'd wanted a cop, +you could have got one in Seaford. Come on, Jim, and stop acting like +you were the only one knew anything. We know what you saw the night +Tom was wrecked. And we know who did it." + +That stopped Captain Killian. He gave Cap'n Mike a penetrating look, +then said abruptly, "Where can we talk?" + +"In the car." + +Cap'n Mike introduced the boys to Killian. "Rick and Scotty," he +explained, "figured out what must have happened to Tom Tyler. Tell +him, Rick." + +Rick outlined the theory quickly. + +Captain Killian sat staring out of the window. "That's about it," he +said finally. "It must be. Maybe Bill Lake thought he'd lost the light +and current set him over, but I was closer. Not close enough to see +anything but the light, you understand. But I saw it blink out, and I +looked down at the binnacle and held the same compass heading until it +came on again, and it was in a different place. + +"If you'd said that at the hearing this morning, Tom Tyler might have +been free right now," Cap'n Mike accused. + +Captain Killian's back stiffened. "I don't know what you're thinking, +Mike, but if it weren't for Tom, I wouldn't be here." + +"We'd like to hear about that," Cap'n Mike said. + +"May as well tell you. Soon as I saw what happened to the _Sea Belle_, +I hurried to find Tom. While I was looking for him, I ran into Brad +Marbek and I asked him about the light. I knew he'd been right behind +Tom. Brad acted mighty queer, and when I did see Tom, he got all +excited. He begged me to leave town, for my own sake and his. I told +him he'd have a hard time without my testimony and Brad's, and he +broke down and told me Brad was mixed up in some kind of deal with +them Kelsos, and he said he wasn't worried about himself, but about +Celia--that's his wife--and their little girl. He said he didn't dare +try and clear himself, though he knew right well what had happened." + +Captain Killian shrugged. "What could I do? Stay and put Celia and +their little girl in danger? Not likely I'd do that! And I couldn't +pretend not to know anything because I'd already talked to Brad." + +The four nodded their understanding. + +"So I packed up and got out. First I told Chick what to say, and told +him to tell folks I'd been to the trawler next morning so they +wouldn't connect my going with Tom's wreck." + +"Was just the shifting of the light all you saw?" Rick asked. + +"That's all. I will say that I knew the second light was the real one. +I hadn't known the first one wasn't real, but when Smugglers' Light +came on I could see there was a difference. I'd figured the light was +sort of dull because of ground haze. There was some, you know." + +"There's our evidence," Scotty said. + +"Yep." Cap'n Mike leaned back in the seat. "Only trouble is, we can't +use it without getting both Jim and Tom's family in danger. So I guess +we're back where we started." + +"But we can prove to the police the light was changed," Jerry began. +"If Captain Killian tells his story ..." He stopped. "No good. Because +we have no proof the Kelsos were mixed up in it, and they'd still be +able to carry out their threats." + +"That's exactly right," Captain Killian said. "Now how about telling +me how you found me? Did Chick give me away?" + +"Not on purpose," Cap'n Mike assured him. "Rick was trailing him when +he telephoned you this morning, and he found out the number Chick had +called. The rest was easy." + +"I see. And what am I supposed to do now?" + +"I don't see how you can stay in that hotel," Cap'n Mike said, a +little distastefully. + +Captain Killian smiled. "Pretty bad, all right. You know, last time I +spent a night in New York I stayed there. It was right nice. There was +a real pretty garden out in back." + +"How long ago was that?" Rick queried. + +The fisherman hesitated. "Oh, must be all of twenty-five years ago. I +was some upset when I saw the place, but I'd already told Chick to +call me there, so nothing for it but to stay. Wish I could stay +somewhere else, but it wouldn't be safe to go back to Seaford." + +"Whiteside would be all right," Rick said. "You could stay there." + +"I'd rather. But are you sure it'd be safe?" + +Jerry spoke up. "Captain, I'm on the Whiteside _Morning Record_. I'll +make a deal with you. Give us your story exclusively, when the right +time comes, and the paper will guarantee your safety." + +"It sounds good," Captain Killian admitted. "But when is the right +time going to come? Maybe never." + +"Sooner than you think," Rick said quietly. "Look, gang. There's only +one way to crack this case. We know now we can't get Captain Tyler +cleared unless the whole outfit is rounded up. So we'll just have to +get busy and find the evidence we need. We'll start over again, and +this time we won't go wrong because we know what to look for, and +where to look." + +"Fighting talk," Cap'n Mike chuckled happily. + +Scotty laughed. "Do we dare put our heads inside the Seaford city +limits again after what we did to Carrots? He'll be waiting for us +with a squad of thugs and that little popgun of his." + +"The popgun maybe, but no thugs," Rick corrected. "What will you bet +he never even tells his father what happened to him?" + +"No bet there," Jerry said, grinning. "I'll bet the same thing." He +put the car in gear. "We may as well head back to Whiteside. First, +though, we'll have to collect Captain Killian's baggage." + +The captain spoke his agreement. "I'll take your offer, son." He shook +his head. "You know, I'm real surprised at Brad Marbek. I knew he +wasn't above turning a dishonest dollar, but I thought he had more +sense than to go into smuggling. No matter how foolproof you think +your setup is, if you start smuggling you're bound to get caught. +Sooner or later." + +"In this case," Rick added hopefully, "we'll try to make it sooner." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Plimsoll Marks + + +Duke Barrows, editor of the Whiteside _Morning Record_, sipped slowly +at his cup of coffee, nodding encouragement at Rick every once in a +while. The editor, after a few words with Jerry, had taken Captain +Killian to his own house for safekeeping. The captain could stay +there, Duke said, until it was time for him to make a public +appearance. + +But the price Duke asked was to be told the complete story. At first +Rick hesitated. With no proof of anything except for Captain Killian's +testimony, which actually convicted no one, he was a little doubtful +about making accusations. But when it came to keeping a tight lip, the +editor was probably more experienced than any of them. Besides, Rick +hoped that he might have a suggestion, so, finally, they put Cap'n +Mike on the Seaford bus and the three boys and Duke retired to a +secluded booth in the rear of a restaurant to talk it over. + +Barrows traced circles on the plastic table top for long moments after +Rick had finished. "You've been pretty thorough," he said finally. +"What do you plan to try now?" + +Rick shook his head. "I wish I knew. We could try to get to Creek +House earlier next time the _Albatross_ puts in there, but we know now +they guard the place." + +"How about spotting the _Albatross_ from the air while she actually +loads at sea?" Duke asked. + +"Rick mentioned that," Scotty replied. "But how? We can't fly at night +in the Cub because we don't have landing lights. And even if we did, +we could only go out in moonlight because we don't have any night +flying instruments." + +Jerry looked at the editor. "Duke, you know the Coast Guard commanding +officer in this area. How about getting him to send out one of his +planes?" + +"We could," Duke said slowly, "but I'd rather not. This is Rick and +Scotty's case." He grinned. "Besides, I'm selfish. If the Coast Guard +gets it, every news agency and paper in the country gets it from +official sources. I'd rather have an exclusive we can copyright, then +every paper in the country will have to quote us." + +"It would put Whiteside on the map," Rick grinned in response. +"Seriously, Duke, I'm afraid that's not very practical. Besides, how +would we know when the _Albatross_ was going to make contact with a +supply ship? We know when he's going to Creek House, because Cap'n +Mike can see him. But Brad has already made contact when that +happens." + +"Let's take one thing at a time." The editor drew pencil and paper +from his pocket. "What would you need to fly at night?" + +Rick ticked them off on his fingers. "Wing landing lights, navigation +lights, cockpit instrument light. And if we were supposed to fly in +anything but clear weather, we'd need a bank and turn indicator and an +artificial horizon. But even then I'd be doubtful. I've never had +instrument training. I wouldn't dare take the Cub out unless it was a +clear, moonlit night, so I'd have a good horizon." + +Scotty approved. "That makes sense. And if we stuck to clear +moonlight, the only things we'd need would be landing lights and +navigation lights." + +Duke made notes. "All right. I don't think you need to worry much +about having moonlight, because the weather is pretty consistent at +this time of year. Barring a ground haze or a local thunderstorm, +you'll have clear weather, and the moon will be full by the early part +of next week. Now suppose we get Gus to install landing lights and +navigation lights on a rental basis? The paper would pay for that in +exchange for an exclusive story." + +"All we'd need would be good weather," Rick said. He had never flown +the Cub at night. In fact, he had flown only once at night, and then +it was in a much better plane and with an experienced instructor. But +with good moonlight and a clear sky, it shouldn't be much different +from day flying. + +Duke continued. "Now the next point. How can we know when the +_Albatross_ is going to make contact?" + +"I think we can find out if Cap'n Mike will help," Scotty answered. +"We know it takes time to transfer the smuggled goods, whatever they +are. That means Brad Marbek has to leave port earlier in the morning +than usual, unless he wants to call attention to what he's doing. As I +see it, he probably leaves pretty early, makes contact with his +supply ship and gets his load, then he hurries to the fishing grounds +and gets his nets over the side and is fishing when daylight comes and +the others see him. If Cap'n Mike kept watch, he would let us know +when Brad left real early." + +"That's good figuring," Rick complimented his pal. "The _Albatross_ +would have to leave between half past two and three in the morning. +Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to load before daybreak." + +"It wouldn't take long," Scotty pointed out. "They have to do their +unloading by hand at Creek House, but the ship would have cargo booms. +Two cargo nets swung to his deck would do it. It wouldn't take any +time at all." + +Jerry consulted his watch. "We could go to Seaford tonight and make +arrangements." + +Rick shook his head. "It's Saturday. The fleet doesn't go out on +Sunday. Monday will be soon enough." + +"I have another idea," Duke Barrows said. "Suppose we take the State +Police into our confidence?" + +"But we haven't any evidence to give them," Jerry objected. + +"No need. Captain Ed Douglas is a good friend of mine. I can put it to +him as a friend, and not officially." + +Rick rather liked the idea of having the State Police on their side. +He had a great deal of respect for the young officers, and he knew +that they operated with military efficiency, plus FBI criminology +training. What's more, Captain Douglas was a good friend of Hartson +Brant's, and Rick knew he would treat their story with confidence. + +"I'm for it," he said finally. "Besides, if the State Police sort of +co-operated unofficially, they could have their highway patrols watch +out for the truck that is getting the stuff from Creek House. The +patrol car wouldn't even have to go into Seaford. They could just keep +an eye on Salt Creek Bridge, because that must be the loading point. +Cap'n Mike hasn't seen any trucks on Million Dollar Row." + +"Fine." Duke Barrows rose. "It's still early. We'll get busy right +away. First stop Whiteside Airport to talk with Gus about putting +lights on your plane. Then we'll drop in on Captain Douglas." + +Rick felt better. The pattern was clear now, even though there were a +lot of "ifs." If Cap'n Mike notified them, he and Scotty could fly +over the _Albatross_. If they saw it make contact with some offshore +ship and load contraband, they could return to Spindrift and notify +Captain Douglas. Then the State Police could be on hand at Creek House +to catch the Kelsos and Marbek in the act of unloading. And that would +settle the smugglers' hash once and for all! The prospect of flying at +night made him a little nervous, but he was sure it would be all +right. The only thing was, although he could take off from Spindrift +at night he couldn't land there, because the tiny strip gave no room +for errors in judgment. He would have to land at Whiteside. + +"This is on the _Morning Record_," Duke said as he paid the check. +"And while we're working on this, I think I'll try to dig into Kelso's +record a little, too. Never know what might turn up." + + * * * * * + +Sunday was quiet at Spindrift. Rick and Scotty swam in the light surf +below Pirate's Field, sun-bathed for a while, and then walked back to +the house. Hartson Brant was loafing for the day, too, and Rick had an +opportunity to talk with him for the first time in several days. + +Hartson Brant listened to Rick's story and plans, and agreed that any +night flying must be done in absolutely clear, bright weather. Rick +knew the fact that Captain Douglas was co-operating had swung his +father's decision, and he knew that although his mother would be +inclined to object, she would accept his father's judgment. + +It gave Rick a comfortable feeling to know that the State Police +captain was interested. Captain Douglas had agreed to go along with +their plans during a long conference the night before. And Gus had +promised to get the necessary lights for the Cub from Newark early +Monday morning, and to have them installed by Monday evening. + + * * * * * + +Rick and Scotty helped with the installation on Monday afternoon. The +hardest part was feeding the wires through the wings and fuselage. The +wires had to be passed from one inspection port to the next, which +required a great deal of fishing. But by five in the afternoon, the +job was done. The Cub now carried a pair of landing lights, like auto +headlights, one under each wing, and red and green navigation lights +on the wings. There was a tiny white light on the tail, too, which +would blink in unison with the colored wing lights. + +As they landed at Spindrift, Rick grinned at Scotty. "Your head set +firmly on your neck? It might get jarred off first time I try a night +landing." + +"I should have stayed in the Marine Corps and lived a quiet, safe +life," Scotty grumbled. "When do we try these things out?" + +"Want to go down and shine the lights on Creek House?" Rick joked. + +"Nope. Wouldn't be safe. Didn't that phone call warn you not to fly +over Seaford?" + +The phrase hit home. Rick yelled, "That's it! Scotty, I knew there was +something funny. It was in the back of my head and I couldn't dig it +out. But that's it! Listen, why would the Kelsos object to our flying +over Seaford during the day? All their dirty work goes on under cover +of darkness. They must have some reason for warning us!" + +"Gosh, yes!" Scotty started at a run through the orchard. "Let's go +take another look at those photographs!" + +They ran through the house and up the stairs to Rick's room, and +spread out on a table the enlargements Scotty had made. "Let's see," +Rick said. "There must be something they don't want us to see. But +where? We know there's nothing on the grounds, and we couldn't see +anything in the house or garage from the air." + +"The marsh," Scotty suggested. "Try the marsh, especially up the creek +from the hotel." + +Their heads bent over the best photo of the area and two pairs of eyes +scanned the marsh grass. Rick pointed to an area on the Creek House +side of the marsh, a short distance below the bridge. "There's +something there, but I can't make it out." + +Scotty straightened up. "Got a magnifying glass?" + +"There's one in the library." Rick ran to get it, stopped to explain +to his father that they might have an important clue, and ran back +upstairs again. It was a powerful glass. He held it over the +questionable area and details leaped to meet him. Wordlessly he handed +the glass to Scotty. + +The boy bent and studied the photo, then he turned to Rick with a wide +grin on his face. "So that's it! Rick, this is their cache. They must +park the stuff there until the truck comes!" + +The marsh grass had been bent cunningly over the area in an effort at +camouflage, but the magnifying glass clearly showed some sort of barge +piled with wooden boxes! + +"Let's go take a look," Scotty said enthusiastically. "Maybe it's +still there." + +Rick started to agree, then a thought struck him. "We'd better not. +They'd see us, and they might notice the lights on the plane. We don't +want to tip our hand." Then he brightened. "But they don't know Gus's +plane!" He hurried out into the hall and called Whiteside Airport. Gus +answered. + +"This is Rick," he told the airport manager. "Gus, how's your plane?" + +"Running like a watch. Just like my car. Why?" + +"How's to borrow it for a quick trip south?" + +"Now he wants to imitate birds," Gus groaned. "Don't you know it's too +early to fly south?" + +"Don't want to go that far south," Rick said. + +"Come and get it." + +Rick had no hesitation in asking the obliging Gus for the loan of +equipment because he was always ready to oblige in turn. Several +times, when Gus's plane was out of commission or not available, +either because of engine overhaul or because some flier had rented it, +Rick had taken the Cub to Whiteside for Gus to use in instructing his +pupils. Furthermore, the island boats were always at Gus's disposal +and he frequently borrowed one to go on a Sunday fishing excursion. + +The short hop to Whiteside took only a few minutes. Rick taxied to the +hangar and he and Scotty climbed out. Gus's plane, a light private job +of a different make than Rick's and painted red, was standing on the +apron. It had the name of the airport painted on the side in large +letters. + +Gus came out of the office and walked to meet them. He was a short, +stocky young man only a few years older than Rick, and his slightly +sour look hid a keen sense of humor. "I called my lawyer," he +announced. "He'll be right here." + +"Lawyer?" Rick sometimes had a hard time knowing when Gus was pulling +his leg. "What for?" + +Gus shrugged. "You're borrowing my plane when your own is in perfect +flying condition. It must be for something illegal. You want my plane +to be seen instead of yours. You want people to think I did it. So I +asked my lawyer to come. I'll have a witness to prove I wasn't in the +plane when the dastardly deed was done." + +"What deed?" Scotty asked seriously. + +Gus looked wise. "You don't trap me like that," he said. "If I +admitted what I know, that would make me an accessory before the fact. +Nope, I'm keeping quiet about this." He leered. "But I know!" + +"Accessory!" Rick hooted. "You know what that means? Something extra +and usually unnecessary." + +Gus looked hurt. "I'll remember that next time you come in for an +engine check and I'll put emery in your crankcase. Go on. Get in and +I'll whirl the fan for you." + +Rick and Scotty climbed into Gus's plane, grinning. Rick checked the +controls rapidly, then called, "Ignition off." + +"Off," Gus repeated, and pulled the propeller through to prime the +engine. + +"Contact," Rick called, and Gus pulled the prop. The engine caught at +once. Rick warmed it, watching his gauges, then waved to Gus and +taxied to the end of the runway. As they were airborne, Scotty took +the speed graphic he had brought and checked to see that a film pack +was in place. Rick banked around and headed for Seaford. + +There was no buzzing of Creek House this time. Rick flew in a straight +line, just far enough seaward so that Scotty could get a good picture. +As they passed the cache area, Scotty leaned far out and snapped the +shutter. Then he turned to Rick, grinning. "Still there. About ten +cases. It looks as if we've got the goods on them." + +Rick flew straight ahead until he was out of sight of Seaford, then he +swung a few miles inland and returned to Whiteside. Fifteen minutes +later they were landing the Cub at Spindrift, just in time for dinner. +But first Rick made a phone call to the _Morning Record_, reported +their findings to Duke and arranged with Jerry to pick them up at the +Whiteside dock later for a trip to Seaford. They had to see Cap'n Mike +to make arrangements and Rick wanted another look at the _Albatross_. +He had to memorize every detail of its silhouette, otherwise he might +find himself following the wrong ship when the time came if another +fisherman decided to get an early start. + +It was dusk when Jerry met them. "Got a message from Duke," he said as +they climbed into the car. "He phoned Captain Douglas to tell him +about the wooden cases you saw. The captain is going to keep an eye on +the stuff, but he says it isn't enough evidence. The Kelsos could +always claim they knew nothing about it and we couldn't prove they +did. The stuff isn't on their land." + +"Proof," Scotty said sourly. "Golly, do we have to get pictures of +them peddling the stuff to customers?" + +"Just about," Rick commented. + + * * * * * + +Cap'n Mike wasn't at home when the boys arrived. They parked in front +of his shack and talked and listened to the car radio for over an hour +before he finally appeared, then he greeted them tartly. + +"Why weren't you at Spindrift when I phoned?" + +"What for?" Rick asked. "What happened?" + +"Brad Marbek's at Creek House again. That's what happened. I called to +tell you, and your mother said you had left. What's the matter? Not +letting what happened the other night scare you off, are you?" + +"We sure are," Scotty replied. + +Rick laughed at the old seaman's astonished expression. "Don't let him +fool you, Cap'n. We've got another plan." + +Quickly he outlined Duke's proposal and explained how they had +outfitted the Cub. + +Cap'n Mike smacked his thigh. "Now we're getting down to cases. You +just bet I'll keep watch on the pier so I can phone when Brad leaves." + +"There's one more thing, Cap'n Mike," Rick said. "I have to get +another look at the _Albatross_ tonight. Is there any place from which +we can see her without being seen?" + +Cap'n Mike thought it over. "Yep," he said at last. "There is. There's +a dredger tied up at the pier just south of the fish wharf, and Brad +always berths in the same place, south side. I know the skipper of the +dredger. We can sort of drop in on him and take a look from there. +That suit?" + +"That will be fine," Rick replied. "But we may have a long wait if +Brad's at Creek House." + +"Wouldn't be surprised," Cap'n Mike nodded. "Likely two hours. What +say you come into my shack? Might be able to scare up a sandwich or +two to pass away the time." + +Rick looked at Jerry doubtfully. "There's a paper tomorrow morning. +Don't you have to get back and help get it out?" + +"Not tonight." Jerry grinned his pleasure. "Duke said to stick with +you two and forget everything else. First time I've had an assignment +like this. I have to admit I sort of like it." + +"Good," Cap'n Mike grunted. "Then let's go see what we can find to +eat. I got so interested in watching for Brad Marbek that I plumb +forgot about food." + + * * * * * + +It was after eleven when the four left the shack and climbed into +Jerry's car for the short ride to the pier. At Scotty's suggestion, +they parked the car on the edge of town and walked to the dock where +the dredger was tied up. They stayed in the shadows, hopeful that they +would not be seen, and Rick thought they reached the dredge without +attracting attention. + +The dredge was deserted, but Cap'n Mike made himself at home. He led +the boys into the wheelhouse, a small shack on the aft end, and they +took places at the windows. They had arrived too early, as it +developed. It was a full half-hour before the _Albatross_ rounded the +fish pier and steamed into her berth. The pier workers were gathered +at the berth, obviously waiting impatiently. They had finished +unloading the last of the other trawlers a full fifteen minutes +before. + +Rick studied the rigging of the ship as it approached and memorized +the position of her running lights. The _Albatross_ had only one +distinctive feature; her crow's-nest, from which a lookout was kept +for schools of fish, was basket-shaped instead of being perfectly +round. The other trawlers, he had noted, had crow's-nests that looked +like barrels. He knew he wouldn't forget the way the nest narrowed +toward the bottom. + +The _Albatross_ was low in the water. As she slid into position and +threw out her lines, he saw clearly the Plimsoll mark on her bow. The +Plimsoll mark was a series of measurements in feet, running from the +maximum depth at which the ship should lie in the water down toward +the keel. By looking at it, the skipper could tell at once how much +load he had aboard. Now, the top figure was barely showing. + +Rick studied it, and his forehead creased. "That's funny," he said. +He pointed it out to the others. "She's full up. You'd think she would +be lighter after dropping off a load at Creek House." + +"You would for a fact," Cap'n Mike muttered. "What do you suppose +they're smuggling? Must be feathers. 'Cause if you added a few more +pounds to the load she's carrying now, she'd be awash." + +Rick felt a pang of doubt. Were they away off the beam on their +guesses about the Kelsos and the _Albatross_? The ship certainly would +be higher in the water had they unloaded cargo. + +"Maybe they didn't unload tonight," Scotty ventured. "It would be +smart of Marbek to just visit Creek House for nothing once in a while, +to throw off any watchers. That way, he could make his story about +visiting his relatives seem a little more plausible." + +Cap'n Mike had told them that was the story Brad was handing out to +those who dared question him about his visits to Creek House. + +Rick's face cleared. "That must be it," he agreed. "But look, if he +visited the Kelsos tonight, it doesn't look as though he would make +contact with his supply ship for a couple of days." + +"Suits me," Scotty stated. "I'm not overly anxious to go tooting off +into the wild black yonder in the Cub, if you come right down to it. +I'd rather Brad took his time, to let me get used to the idea." + +He had stated so neatly what Rick was feeling that he had to grin. He +had been wishing he had more confidence in his ability to land safely +at night. + +"Amen," he said fervently. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Night Flight + + +It seemed to Rick that his head scarcely had touched the pillow when +the ringing of the phone penetrated his slumber. The luminous dial of +his watch showed quarter past three. For an instant he shivered. The +ringing could mean only one thing. + +He heard the creaking of his bedspring and the soft pat of Scotty's +bare feet as his pal swung to the floor. Scotty had the faculty of +waking instantly and moving into action. By the time Rick reached the +hall, he was already lifting the phone from its cradle. + +"Yes?" he said softly. "Okay, Cap'n Mike. How long do you think it +will take him to get out past the fishing grounds? All right. Give us +a call about breakfast time and we'll let you know how we made out." + +The boys hurried to Rick's room. Rick snapped on the light and stood +blinking in its sudden glare. "What did he say?" + +"Brad just left. He was phoning from Jake's Grill. I guess that's the +only place in Seaford that's open all night." + +"My guess that he wouldn't go out tonight was certainly bum," Rick +said. "The smuggling business must be good. How long did he figure it +would take Brad to reach the other side of the fishing grounds?" + +"About an hour." + +Rick looked at his watch again. "That doesn't give him much time +before daybreak. It starts to get light at about half past four at +this time of year. Well, let's get dressed." + +Rick slipped into slacks and a heavy woolen shirt, because it would be +cold before dawn. Then he put on woolen socks and moccasins. He was +getting his motion-picture camera from the closet when Scotty came in, +fully dressed. Rick tucked an extra reel of infrared film into his +shirt pocket and grinned at his pal. + +"How's your nerve?" + +"Mine doesn't matter," Scotty returned cheerfully. "How's yours? +That's what counts." + +"We'll soon know." Rick paused as his mother called softly. "Yes, +Mom?" + +He walked to the door of his parents' bedroom. + +"Be very careful," Rick's mother cautioned. And Hartson Brant added, +"Don't forget distances look different at night, son, even with +landing lights." + +"I'll be careful," he promised. "We'll be back in a little while." + +He motioned to Scotty and then snapped out the lights and went down +the stairs. He left the camera on the porch and they walked to the +boat landing, hiking briskly because it was chilly. Their plan was to +take both boats to the Whiteside landing and leave one of them there, +to provide a means for getting back to the island after they had +landed at the airport. Probably it would have been more sensible to +have left the plane at the airport, too, but that meant a walk from +the boat landing and Rick hadn't been sure how much time they would +have. + +In a short while they were back at Spindrift. They picked up the +camera and walked past the orchard to where the Cub was parked, +looking a little unfamiliar with the landing lights shining in the +moonlight. + +Rick stopped for another look at the sky. He had studied it +periodically from the moment they left the house. There was a little +fair weather cumulus cloud scattered here and there, but nothing that +would interfere with visibility. There was a good moon, between a half +and three-quarters full. Rick would have preferred the brightest of +full moons, but he philosophized that he shouldn't expect maximum +conditions. + +A glance at his watch showed that slightly less than a half-hour had +elapsed since the phone call. It would be another half-hour before +Brad reached the probable contact point beyond the fishing grounds, +and it would take the Cub only about twelve minutes to reach it. There +was no use in starting just yet. He sat down on the grass under the +wing of the Cub and hurriedly stood up again. The dew already had +fallen and the grass was wet. + +Scotty chuckled. "Something bite you?" + +"Thought we could sit it out for a little while," Rick explained. "But +it's too wet." He knew he couldn't sit still, anyway. He wanted to get +into the air, to get the feel of things. "Crank 'er up," he requested. + +He slid into the pilot's seat and placed the camera beside him. +Scotty walked around to the front of the plane and started the engine. +Then, as Rick warmed it, he untied the tie ropes, removed the wheel +chocks, and got in. "Relax," he advised. + +"I'm trying to," Rick returned. "Buckle in. Here we go." He fastened +his seat belt and Scotty did likewise. + +The grass landing strip stretched ahead for a distance that seemed +much shorter in the moonlight. Rick glued his eyes to the point where +it ended and pushed forward on the throttle. He wouldn't need lights +for the takeoff. The plane shuddered and he released the brakes. The +tail came up and the Cub rolled, picking up speed rapidly, then lifted +smoothly from the grass. Airborne! + +The horizon was clearly defined and Rick breathed a sigh of relief. No +trouble in flying level now. Their only bad moment would come in +landing. He climbed to almost a thousand feet, then set a course for +Whiteside. He wanted to get a look at the airport approaches by night. +In a short space he saw the field beacon and then the red boundary +lights. He throttled back and let the nose drop, crossing the field at +less than two hundred feet. It looked easy. The tension left him and +he flew easily, automatically. He had been flying the Cub for so long +that it behaved like part of him, without conscious effort. He climbed +steadily in a shallow turn until his altimeter read two thousand feet +and he was heading out to sea. Far below, Spindrift Island was a dark +extension of the land, almost completely framed by silvery, moonlit +water. + +"Pretty," Scotty said. + +Rick nodded. He knew his mother and father were listening to the +plane's drone down there. They wouldn't sleep much until he was back. + +They had spent ten minutes making the long sweep over Whiteside. Rick +glanced at his watch, then banked around on the predetermined course. +He put the Cub in a slow climb. + +"We'll arrive a little north of the grounds," he said. "Watch for ship +lights. We may see the supply ship before we see Brad Marbek." + +"Maybe they've already met," Scotty remarked. + +Rick shook his head. "They can't have met yet. Brad would have to go +pretty far out. Otherwise, the trawlers going to fish would be able to +see him and his supply ship on the horizon." + +Scotty shivered. "It's getting cold." + +They were climbing steadily. The altimeter read slightly less than +four thousand feet. At that height, the men on the ships below +wouldn't know what kind of plane was overhead. They flew in silence +for several minutes, then Rick warned, "We're getting there." + +"I'm watching." Scotty had taken the binoculars from behind the seat +where they had been left. Suddenly he grabbed Rick's arm. "There. Dead +ahead." + +Rick banked the plane a little so he could see from the side window. +Far ahead and below, red lights and white lights twinkled against the +sheen of the sea. Some distance separated the lights and he knew he +was seeing both vessels. They had not yet met. His pulse began to +pound a little. He pulled back slightly on the control wheel and let +the Cub climb. + +"We'll continue straight on," he told Scotty. "Then we'll turn and +come back at a lower altitude." + +"Okay." Scotty leaned out into the slip stream and put the binoculars +on the lights. When the ships were behind, he pulled his head in again +and rubbed his cold face. "That other ship is a freighter, but not +very big. I'd say less than four thousand tons. It's probably a +coaster." + +Rick wondered, if it was a coastal vessel, why he hadn't found +anything in the New York paper at the _Morning Record_. It was +probable, he decided, that the ship was heading for some other port, +maybe Boston. + +"Funny," Scotty said. "The other ship is heading south." + +"South? No wonder we didn't find anything in the shipping news. +Listen, Scotty, what if that's just an American coaster? You know what +that would mean? That ship would have to rendezvous with some +ocean-going freighter, or maybe several of them." His voice hushed. +"What if we've run into something that's only a small part of a really +big smuggling ring?" + +His ready imagination pictured the coastal vessel sailing regularly +between Baltimore and Portland, Maine, meeting ocean-going smugglers +and in turn supplying small contraband runners like Brad Marbek and +the Kelsos all the way up and down the coast. + +"I expected some big ocean freighter," Scotty remarked. + +They had been flying steadily out to sea. Now Rick banked around so +Scotty could look through the glasses once more. + +"I can see them on the horizon," Scotty said, glasses to his eyes. +"They've met. The lights are almost together. Hey! The lights just +went out!" + +"Probably turned out so as not to attract the attention of any passing +ships," Rick guessed. "They can't see, as we can, that they're the +only ships around. We'll stall for a while before going back. Give +them time to get rigged for passing cargo." + +He lifted the camera to his lap, then trimmed the Cub so it would fly +by itself. Scotty took the power pack on his own lap and checked again +to see that the dynamo-driven spring was wound tight. + +Rick had connected the infrared attachment so that a switch was handy +under his thumb when his left hand held the camera in position. The +camera itself, run by its own spring, was operated by his right hand. +He pressed the infrared switch and heard the dynamo whine softly. +Scotty immediately wound it another half turn to bring the spring up +to full tension again. + +"Wish I had enough hours to do the flying," he said regretfully. "Then +you could photograph without worrying about the plane." + +Scotty had his license, but he had not yet accumulated the experience +that would fit him for an adventure like tonight's. Or rather this +morning's. + +Rick twisted the lens barrel, making sure it was full open, then he +twisted the focusing ring until it stopped. Now the camera was focused +on infinity. All he needed to do was aim and shoot. He looked at +Scotty. His friend's face was a white blur in the dimness inside the +plane. "Think we've given them enough time?" + +"I think so. They wouldn't need much. The supply ship would have cargo +booms all rigged and the first load in the cargo net. Better turn +back." + +Rick banked, letting the Cub slip as he did so. They lost altitude +rapidly and he watched the silvery sheen of the ocean resolve itself +into waves. There was not enough wind to make foam or whitecaps. The +two ships would have no trouble coming alongside and moving cargo. He +leveled off at five hundred feet on a course that would take them +directly over the vessels. + +Both boys strained to see ahead, and both saw the blurred outline on +the horizon at the same time. Gradually the outline became clearer +until finally they flashed directly over the two ships. + +"Here we go," Rick said, and the calmness of his voice surprised him. +He rocked the Cub up in a tight bank that would take them in a narrow +circle with the ships at the center. His hands made delicate +adjustments in the plane's balance so that it would practically fly +itself. His feet were light on the rudder pedals. He lifted his hand +from the wheel and the Cub held course without a waver. + +"Now," he said. He took the camera and pressed it to his cheek, +gripping it firmly. His eye found the telescope and he pressed the +infrared switch. + +Scotty's hand was poised, ready to grab the control wheel if the plane +started to slip. The power pack was held tightly between his knees, +and his right hand was on the winding handle. + +The scene lighted up for Rick. He saw four men on the trawler's deck, +looking up at him. He saw the cargo net suspended almost over their +heads, and he saw men on the deck of the freighter. His right index +finger pressed and the camera started to roll. + +The Cub held its tight circle and Rick kept his finger down. Then he +felt the camera stop and knew it had to be wound. Swiftly he shifted +balance and turned the winding handle until the spring was at full +tension again. But his shifting of weight had disturbed the plane's +delicate balance. He had to put the camera down and work the tab +controls that trimmed the plane with his left hand while his right +kept it steady. + +It took a few moments. Meanwhile, Scotty had wound the dynamo tight +once more. When Rick looked out, the cargo net was no longer in sight. +The men on the freighter's deck were bent over another cargo net, +working at cases that evidently were heavy. Rick kept the camera on +them, shooting steadily, rewinding when necessary. Then he shifted his +view to the trawler. The men were standing over a gaping fish hatch. +Evidently they were stowing the first load while the men on the +freighter prepared the second. + +"I have enough," Rick said finally. There was nothing more to be seen, +unless they wanted to wait for the second load to change ships. + +"How much footage did you get?" Scotty asked. + +"About fifty feet, maybe a little less." + +"That ought to be enough. Let's go home." + +Rick swung the Cub in a circle until they were facing the direction of +the mainland according to compass reading, then he leveled off. "I +wonder what they thought about the plane overhead," he said. + +"It probably scared them stiff," Scotty replied. "Chances are Brad +Marbek had a good idea who it was." + +The one thing they had overlooked in their plan was Brad's possible +reaction to seeing the plane, Rick realized suddenly. Great grinning +goldfish! What if he really got scared? They might have defeated +their own purpose by making him jettison his contraband! + +Then he reasoned that Brad wouldn't dump his cargo if he could help +it. Anything worth smuggling was too valuable to be dumped just +because two kids saw it transferred. But still . . . + +"If I were Brad," he said, "I'd get up a full head of steam for Creek +House and unload that stuff. How about you?" + +"Because you'd be afraid those two wild men in the airplane would +report it to the police? Maybe you're right, Rick. We'd better get +Captain Douglas and his men on the job right away!" + +The street lights of Whiteside were in sight now. Rick took a bearing +from them and swung slightly northward to pick up the airport. Then he +saw the beacon. He had not bothered to climb after leaving the ships, +so he passed over Spindrift at an altitude of five hundred feet. He +knew his parents would hear the Cub and know he had returned this far +safely. His palms were moist with perspiration and he had to swallow +to clear his throat. Now that the moment of landing was here, his +nervousness was returning. He leaned forward, watching for the airport +marker lights and saw them directly ahead. The airport wasn't big or +important enough to rate runway lights or a lighted wind sock, but +those wouldn't have helped much anyway. He knew from watching the sea +that the wind was negligible. And anywhere he landed on the field +would be all right. + +He throttled down and the nose automatically dropped to the correct +glide position. Then, as he saw the red marker lights rushing to meet +him, he threw on the landing lights. White swaths of light picked out +trees and the boundary fence. The Cub flashed across into the open, +dropping steadily. The ground seemed to come up appallingly fast, but +Rick kept his nerve. It was only an illusion, he knew. The Cub was at +the correct approach angle. But the illusion made it hard to tell when +to level off. He waited a second too long, and his wheels touched and +the Cub bounced. He threw power into the engine and the little plane +lifted into the air once more. + +"Tricky," he muttered when Scotty looked at him. + +Scotty sat up a little straighter. "You're telling me?" + +Rick went around the airport again and banked around tightly into the +approach. His jaw was set firmly and he watched the field so closely +that his eyes watered. He'd make it this time! He cut the gun and the +nose dropped. He waited as the runway came up, trying to gauge his +height by the grass that showed clearly in the landing lights. Slowly +he eased the control wheel back and the plane leveled off. Slowly and +more slowly. They were eating up runway rapidly. Scotty shot him an +anxious look. Then, with feather lightness, the wheels touched. The +tail settled gracefully and they were on the ground. Rick applied the +brakes and the Cub slowed to a stop. He wiped his forehead. + +Scotty leaned over and solemnly shook hands. + +Rick gave the plane the gun again and taxied rapidly to the hangar, +switching out his lights as he went. + +Made it, he thought jubilantly. First night flight, safely over. And +that's not all. We got what we went after! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Enter the Police + + +Duke Barrows was waiting at the hangar when Rick and Scotty got out of +the Cub. "I can see the headlines now," he greeted them with a grin. +"Young Birdmen Fly by Night. Subhead: Get Up Early to Catch Worms Who +Break Law." + +"Speaking of getting up early," Rick retorted. He pointed to where +growing paleness in the east announced the coming of daylight. "How +did you know we'd be landing?" + +"My house is near here," Duke reminded them. "I heard you buzz the +field a while ago and I knew you must have gotten the call. So I +dressed and came over. I hadn't gone to sleep after getting home, +anyway. Editors of morning papers are night owls, remember. Well, how +did it go?" + +Rick reached into the Cub and drew out his camera. He held it up +triumphantly. "The evidence is in here," he said happily. "We caught +'em in the act, Duke." Then he sobered. "But we're worried." He told +the editor about their misgivings. + +"Hmmmm." Barrows gazed at the night sky reflectively. "I agree that +Marbek probably wouldn't throw the stuff overboard, but he might +streak for port. I think we'd better give Captain Douglas a call. We +want state troopers waiting at Creek House when the _Albatross_ +arrives." + +Scotty groaned. "If they go now, that means we won't get any sleep." + +"You hadn't better plan on going with the troopers," Duke said. "They +probably prefer to handle things their own way. Besides, it might mean +waiting all day. I'd say it was more important for you to get that +film developed. I don't suppose you saw the name of the ship Marbek +was getting his stuff from?" + +"I didn't even think about it," Rick confessed. "I planned to, then +when the time came it slipped my mind completely. I was too busy +flying the plane and taking pictures." + +Duke looked at the camera curiously. Rick had described it to him. +"It's hard to believe that you actually got pictures at night. I'm +anxious to see them." + +"Me, too," Scotty agreed. + +"Let's get organized," Barrows said. "First of all, how do you plan to +get the film developed?" + +"There's a lab in New York that gives 24-hour service. They can +develop infrared, too. I hate to think how much they will charge me." + +"Can individual frames of the film be blown up and made into decent +pictures?" + +Rick nodded. "The result looks a little grainy, but it can be done." + +"All right. Give me exclusive rights to use the pictures and the +paper will pay for them. Let me have the film and the address of the +lab. I'll send Jerry to New York with them first thing this morning. +Then we can have them back tomorrow. Is that okay with you?" + +"Swell." + +"Good. Now let's hop into my car and take a run over to the State +Police Barracks. We'll get Captain Douglas out of bed and you can tell +him your story. He'll know how to carry the ball from there." + +Scotty got the binoculars from the Cub. He and Rick staked the plane +down, then hurried to the editor's car. + +The police barracks were just outside of town on the Newark turnpike. +Captain Douglas was in bed, but he got up quickly enough when the +sergeant on duty gave him the names of the three visitors. Rick +described their night's work while the officer finished dressing. When +he had finished, Captain Douglas, a strapping man who had been a +Marine officer before retiring and joining the state force, nodded +briskly. + +"Good work, Rick. I want to see that film the minute you know whether +your camera worked well enough for evidence. Now, m'lads, I've got to +get to work. Instead of barging into Creek House with sirens wailing, +I just think I'll put a pair of my boys in civilian clothes on the +job, one on the water front and the other at the bridge. I have a pair +of squad cars without insignia or state license plates that will be +useful, and both of them are radio-equipped. The minute this trawler +shows up, we'll know about it and we'll move in on them. I'll ask for +a search warrant soon as I can get someone on the phone at the main +office. How does that strike you?" + +"It sounds all right," Rick said. "But where do we come in?" + +"You don't," Captain Douglas retorted. "You go home and go to bed. The +only thing you could do would be to hang around here all day waiting, +because we couldn't let you go to Seaford and perhaps tip off the gang +by accident. They must know it was your plane, and they're crazy if +they don't assume you'll call the police. If no police show up and you +don't either, it may lull their suspicions somewhat. Tell you what. +I'll phone Duke, or have the desk man do it, the minute we hear +anything and he can phone you." + +And with that, the two boys had to be content. Rick ran the rest of +the film through his camera, unloaded it, and handed the can of film +to Duke Barrows. The editor drove them to the boat landing. "With any +luck," he said as they got from the car, "we may let folks read all +about it within a couple of days. See you later, fellows." + +Although it was scarcely daylight, Mr. and Mrs. Brant were already up +and having an early breakfast. Rick knew it was just that they had +worried about Scotty and him, and he felt a little thrill of pride in +them. Even though they had worried, they had confidence in him and so +they had let him go. He was glad that he and Scotty always had played +square with them, sharing their adventures and discussing their +problems. + +Over breakfast, the boys related the story of their night flight while +the Brants listened with interest. "It wasn't bad at all," Rick +finished. "I did have one tough moment when we landed the first time, +because I was a little too tense. But the second time was smooth as +anything." + +"I'm glad you went right to Ed Douglas," Hartson Brant said +approvingly. "These kinds of jobs belong to the law, Rick. An amateur +can go only so far, and then if he's wise, he calls the police." + +They had barely finished breakfast when the phone rang. It was Cap'n +Mike. He said that he had been standing on first one leg then the +other ever since he first phoned, and would they please tell him what +had happened. + +Scotty obliged with a dramatic report and Cap'n Mike exclaimed his +delight so loudly that Rick could hear him half the room away. Scotty +hung up and grinned. "He's going to sort of wander over to that part +of town himself, just to keep track of what's going on." + +"Hope he doesn't attract any attention," Rick said. + +"He's too smart for that. Well, what now? To bed to catch up on that +sleep we missed?" + +Rick couldn't have slept a wink, and he said as much. He was too wound +up. "Let's go back to Whiteside," he suggested. "It's full daylight +now and one of us might as well bring the Cub back." + +"I'll do it," Scotty offered. "You've been getting all the practice, +and you're the one who doesn't need it." + +On the way over by boat, Rick reviewed again the events of the night. +"Funny that the freighter was heading south," he said. In the cold +light of day, his speculation that there might be a whole smuggling +ring up and down the coast didn't look too sensible. "Of course she +may have reached there before Brad showed up and circled while she was +waiting. We didn't hang around to see if she headed north again after +they finished unloading." + +"That could be it," Scotty nodded. "Probably is. Listen, what happens +to the freighter if the police catch Brad with the goods?" + +"Can't say. Ordinarily, I'd think the police would call for the Coast +Guard to go intercept them. But we're not sure of the identity of the +ship." + +"We missed there," Scotty said. "Has it occurred to you that we're +going to be the star witnesses if this comes to trial?" + +Rick shook his head. "Not necessarily. If the State Police catch Brad +and the Kelsos with the goods, they won't need us for anything. But if +they identify the ship that supplied them, they may need us there." + +"Unless it's a foreign ship." + +"What do you mean?" + +"They were outside the twelve-mile limit," Scotty pointed out. "That's +the high seas. I'm not up on my international law, but I doubt if the +United States could do much about something done by a foreign ship on +the high seas." + +"Never thought of that," Rick admitted. + +He dropped Scotty at the landing, then turned the launch back to +Spindrift. Once in his own room, however, he was too restless to do +anything, even to sleep. He walked out to the lab building and sat +down on the steps, looking out to sea. It was a beautiful morning. +Soon as Scotty got back he would suggest a swim. + +In a short time he looked up to see Scotty approaching from Whiteside. +He watched critically as Scotty swung wide and banked into the +approach over the lab building, then settled smoothly to the grass. He +nodded approval. Scotty was a natural flier. He excelled at anything +requiring a high degree of co-ordination between body and mind. + +Rick walked to meet him. "What kept you?" + +Scotty climbed out and they staked the plane down. "Jerry picked me up +on the way to the airport. We talked for a while. He had the film and +was taking it into New York." + +Both of them walked with less spring in their steps than usual. +Knowing that nothing was in sight but waiting was a letdown after the +activity of the predawn hours. But Captain Douglas had spoken and that +was that. + +"Wonder if we'll ever be able to prove that the Kelsos wrecked the +_Sea Belle_?" Rick mused. "Even if the police catch them cold on a +smuggling charge that won't necessarily tie them up with Captain +Tyler." + +"That's right." Scotty bent and plucked a sprig of mint from the patch +next to the house and chewed it absently. "But we'll be able to show +motive and method once they're in jail and Tyler can talk. And with +Captain Killian's evidence, that will clear Tyler anyway. Why should +we worry whether the Kelsos get caught for that as long as he's +cleared? We'll have them on the smuggling charge." + +"I guess so." Rick felt tired. "How about a quick swim? Then we can +crawl into bed and take a nap." + +"Good idea. What are we waiting for?" + +The water was too good to abandon after a few quick dips, however, and +they alternately swam and lazed in the sun until lunchtime. Only after +a good lunch of several sandwiches and almost a quart of milk apiece +did they feel like taking a nap. Then Rick said, "No word. I guess +that does it. Either Brad is ignoring our flying over him or he has +dumped his cargo. I'd like to know which. Otherwise, he would have put +into Creek House long ago." + +"Looks that way. But I'm too drowsy to care. Go on to bed and let me +do likewise. We'll know soon enough what happened." + +Rick undressed, drew his shades and crawled in, luxuriating in the +comfort of cool sheets. But it wasn't easy to drop off to sleep. His +active mind persisted in going over and over the events at Seaford +like a record stuck in a groove, but after a while he slept. + +He didn't even hear the phone when it rang. Scotty had to wake him. +Then, drowsily, he and Scotty went down the hall. + +"It's Mr. Barrows," Mrs. Brant called from below. + +"I'll take it," Rick said. He picked up the phone. "This is Rick, +Duke." + +"Bad news," the editor said. "It's all over, and nothing came out of +it." + +Rick woke up sharply. "What? But, Duke, we saw them load!" + +"Tough luck. Brad came in at the usual time and Douglas was waiting +for him. They went over that ship from stem to stern and didn't turn +up a single thing." + +Rick realized that it was dark outside. Mother had let them sleep +right through dinner. + +"But the crates in the marsh," he exclaimed. "How about those?" + +"Gone," Duke said. "There wasn't a thing but flattened reeds and muddy +water." + +Scotty had been holding his ear close to the phone. "Brad must have +jettisoned his cargo," he said. "We didn't think he would." + +Duke heard him. "Was that Scotty? Well, Rick, if the pictures prove +out, we'll know he must have thrown the stuff overboard. Captain +Douglas has faith in you. He says not to be discouraged." + +"Thanks," Rick said hollowly. + +"Oh, one other item of news. I talked with the agent who rented the +Creek House to the Kelsos. They've given him notice that they're +moving out next Saturday. What do you think about that?" + +Rick's shoulders slumped. "Unless they try to pull something between +now and then, we're sunk. Duke, do you realize this may have been +their last load? We might have scared them off with flying over Brad +and then having the police raid them." + +"I'm afraid so, too. But Captain Douglas says they seemed pretty smug. +They may try it again. By the way, Jerry says the film will be ready +at five tomorrow night. I'll send him into New York early tomorrow and +he can do a few errands for me, then pick up the film on his way +home." + +"Thanks, Duke," Rick said. He replaced the receiver and looked at +Scotty. "Did you get all that?" + +Scotty nodded silently. + +Mrs. Brant called from downstairs. "I saved dinner for you, boys. Want +to come get it now?" + +"Right away," Rick called. "Thanks, Mom." + +He and Scotty slipped robes over their pajamas and walked slowly down +the stairs. Neither of them felt much like eating after the phone +call. They had, with undue optimism, written the case off as +practically closed. But now everything seemed as far from a solution +as ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Brendan's Marsh + + +Rick stared out the window at the gathering dusk. "I'd like to know +what's taking Jerry so long with those pictures," he grumbled. "He +should have been here an hour ago." + +Scotty had been trying to read a book. He gave it up as a bad job and +joined Rick at the window. "Maybe he stopped for dinner," he said. + +"I'll put ground glass in his cake next time he comes to dinner if he +has," Rick threatened. + +Jerry had phoned before leaving for New York earlier in the day. After +consultation with Duke, they had agreed that Jerry would bring the +pictures directly to the island, and that Rick and Scotty would leave +the boat at the landing for him to use. + +The editor was as anxious as any of them to see the pictures, but, as +he pointed out, there was no longer any special haste, and he +preferred not to have both himself and Jerry away from the paper at +the same time, especially in the very early or very late evening when +the wire service newscasts were coming in. + +Rick had agreed. He planned to project the film, choose the single +frames that would be the most useful, rephotograph them, and make +enlargements for Duke and Captain Douglas. The rephotographing was +done with a special, inexpensive device that could be purchased at any +photo supply store. + +Scotty opened the window wider and stuck his head out. "Thought I +heard something." + +Rick looked at his watch. It was shortly after eight. "Let's take the +glasses and walk out to the north side," he said. "It won't be +completely dark until around nine, and we'll be able to see him +coming." + +"Wait a minute." Scotty held up his hand. "There. I thought I heard +something. He's coming now. I recognize the launch motor." + +Rick started for the door, then he hesitated. "You go meet him. I'll +get the projector set up in the library." + +He ran down the stairs and called, "Mother. Dad. Jerry's coming with +the pictures." Then he hurried into the library, took his folding +screen from the closet and set it up. He got the projector from its +case, plugged it in, using his father's desk as a table, and put on +the take-up reel. He finished focusing just as Scotty and Jerry burst +into the room. Mr. and Mrs. Brant were right behind them. + +"Got a clogged gas line," Jerry explained breathlessly. "I finally got +a man to push me to the nearest gas station. We took the gas line off +at the carburetor and blew it out with compressed air. I didn't dare +take time to find out what had clogged it, because I knew you'd lynch +me." + +"You're forgiven," Rick said. He had already taken the film from +Jerry and was threading it through the projector gate. He inserted the +loose end in the take-up reel and motioned to Scotty. "Here we go." + +Scotty snapped out the light and Rick started the projector. White +leader ran through the gate, then suddenly, clear as day, there were +two ships below, their center sections brightly illuminated and the +rest fading out slightly toward what had been the edges of the +infrared beam. + +"Excellent, Rick," Hartson Brant said. "Good work, son! That's much +better than I had hoped." + +"Same here, Dad," Rick said, eyes on the screen. The ships appeared to +be whirling slowly, the result of his having taken the picture while +circling in a tight bank. He could see the men on the decks clearly, +and even thought he recognized Brad Marbek. Then, as the angle +changed, he saw Marbek clearly, waving his arm. + +"What flag is that?" Scotty asked suddenly. "There, on the stern of +the freighter." + +The flag was limp because there had been no breeze to speak of, but +part of the design was clear. "I have it," Hartson Brant exclaimed. +"That ship is of Caribbean registry." He named the country, then said, +"Look for the name of the ship." + +But the angle was wrong for that. The name was not within the camera's +view, on either stern or bow. + +The film was running out rapidly now. Rick watched the cargo net swing +over, full of wooden cases, and drop on the deck of the freighter. For +a moment it didn't register, then he yelled. "Hey! Ohmigolly! Did you +see that?" He threw the reverse switch and the film ran backward. The +net lifted from the deck of the freighter and swung toward the +_Albatross_. Then he ran it forward again and watched the load settle +to the freighter's deck. + +Scotty yelled, too. "What a pair of chuckleheads! Rick, no wonder we +didn't find anything on the _Albatross_ and neither did Captain +Douglas! They're smuggling stuff _out!_ Not in!" + +The Plimsoll mark! The _Albatross_ had been heavily loaded because +Brad Marbek had _taken on the load at Creek House he would deliver +later to the freighter_. + +That was why no ships had been listed in the New York paper as being +in the right area at the right time. They had looked for arrival +times, not sailing times. + +That was why the cache of cases was no longer in the marsh behind +Creek House. These pictures were of those cases being loaded on the +freighter! + +The picture ran through and white light flashed on the screen. Scotty +snapped the lights on. + +"We've got to get these pictures to Captain Douglas," Rick exclaimed. +"I'll hurry and rephotograph them right away. It will only take a +moment." + +He hastily rewound the film while Scotty ran ahead to the photo lab. +Hartson Brant said, "Ed will be glad to get those, Rick. But don't get +your hopes too high. The pictures don't show any contraband in those +cases, and that's what you'll need." + +"I know, Dad," Rick replied. "But at least we know now why we've +always been wrong. We were backwards!" + +He hurriedly excused himself, then he and Jerry hurried after Scotty. + +Scotty already had loaded the rephotographing camera with film and +screwed a photo flood bulb into a convenient receptacle. It took Rick +only ten minutes to select the frames he wanted to rephotograph and +finish the operation. Then he gave the rephotographing camera to +Scotty who wound the film all the way through and took it out. + +"Let's develop it," he said, and reached for the shelf to take down a +small developing tank. + +"Wait!" An idea struck Rick. "How do we know Brad isn't going to load +again tonight? Remember the Kelsos have only a few more days at Creek +House." + +Jerry snapped his fingers. "That's right! And I'll bet they're +gloating over hoodwinking the State Police, too. They wouldn't be +afraid to ship _out_ another load, particularly since they know +they're suspected of smuggling stuff _in_ and it might be their last +chance." + +"We can't risk it," Rick said decisively. "We'll take this film to +Whiteside and have the photographer at the paper develop it. How about +that, Jerry?" The reporter nodded agreement and he continued, "While +it's being developed, we can go through the New York papers again and +find out if a ship of Caribbean registry is sailing. About midnight +would be right for a sailing time." + +Scotty reached for the light. "We'd better hurry." He snapped it out +and led the way through the door. He and Jerry went directly to the +boat landing while Rick ran upstairs and picked up his infrared +camera, just in case. If the police raided Creek House tonight, he +intended to be on hand. + +Scotty had chosen the fast speedboat and already had the engine +turning over. Rick jumped aboard and they roared toward Whiteside. At +the dock they transferred to Jerry's car and sped through the streets +to the newspaper office. Duke Barrows had just finished with the early +newscast and, taking advantage of the lull, had gone home for dinner; +he would return in about an hour, the photographer said. He was the +only man in the office. Jerry gave him the roll of film on which Rick +had rephotographed the critical scenes from the movie and asked for +two enlargements of each. + +"It's urgent," he said. "Duke will want to see these when he gets +back." + +"He'll have 'em." The photographer headed for the darkroom. + +Rick and Scotty didn't wait any longer. They took the file of New York +papers from the rack and hurriedly leafed through them to the proper +dates. + +"Here's one!" Rick found a pencil and jotted down the name of the ship +and its owner. The next date disclosed a ship of the same registry and +owner, but with a different name. They worked rapidly and it took only +a few minutes now that they knew what to look for, and presently they +had the job completed. Jerry, who had been phoning Duke, joined them +and looked over Rick's shoulder as he read aloud. + +"All the same company and registry. It's the Compania Maritima Caribe +y Atlantica." He stumbled a little over the Spanish name. This was +good evidence. He looked at his friends, eyes shining. "Now for +today's paper. Got it Jerry?" + +The reporter found it on Duke's desk and they spread it out on a +table. Three heads bent over it. There was no ship of that company and +registry listed as sailing tonight. Then Scotty spotted a separate +listing of ships now loading. + +"Got one! But it's scheduled to sail night after tomorrow. And look! +It's the same ship that was here two weeks ago!" + +Rick sat down at Jerry's desk. He still couldn't escape the feeling of +urgency. He had played his hunches before and he did so now. He leaned +over and picked up a copy of the New York phone directory. With the +others watching curiously, he leafed through it, found the right page +and ran his finger down it until he had the number, then he picked up +Jerry's phone and called it. + +While the operator made the connection, he held his hand over the +mouthpiece. "A hunch. The shipping offices are closed now, but the +Port Director at New York will know." + +A female voice said, "Port of New York Authority." + +"Information on ship sailings, please," Rick requested. + +The operator rang an extension and a male voice answered. + +"I know you don't usually bother with information of this kind," Rick +said, "but this is the Whiteside _Morning Record_ and we need it for +tomorrow's edition. I'd like to know if there is any correction on the +sailing date of this ship." He read off the name and company and the +pier number. + +"Just a minute, Whiteside. I'll be glad to look it up." + +Rick waited tensely. + +"Here it is. That ship was supposed to sail Friday night, but the +sailing has been moved up. She leaves tonight at midnight." + +"Thanks," Rick said. "Thanks!" He hung up and turned to his friends. +"Tonight's the night! I had a hunch something was up. Of course Brad +and the Kelsos would have the sailing moved up, because they're +frightened. I'll bet tonight will be their last load, then the Kelsos +will clear out and Brad will go back to just fishing." + +"Tonight or never," Scotty echoed. "What do we do now?" + +"Call Captain Douglas." Rick picked up the phone again and asked for +State Police headquarters. There was a little delay while the officer +was called to the phone, then Rick quickly outlined their findings +from the movie film and the New York paper. "If we get down there, we +can catch them in the act of loading," he said. "How about it, +Captain?" + +Captain Douglas hesitated. "I hate to stick my neck out again after +last night, but this looks like a sure thing. We'll need a search +warrant, Rick, and it will take a little time to rout out a judge. And +I'll have to see the pictures first. We have to show cause when we get +a warrant, you know, and the judge will be a little reluctant after +last night." + +"The pictures are being printed now," Rick told him. "You can have +them in a little while." + +"Right. I'll round up the men I need and bring them with me. And I'll +get the judge on the phone and ask him to make out the warrant and +promise to show him the evidence when I pick it up." + +"How long will it take?" Rick asked. + +"We'll be on our way in an hour. I'll get going right now." + +The captain hung up. Rick looked at his watch and then at the rapidly +fading light outside. "They won't be in time," he said desperately. +"If they rush the loading, they can have the _Albatross_ out of there. +Then what happens? They'll have to get another warrant to search the +trawler at the pier, and there won't be any evidence to tie the cargo +up with the Kelsos!" + +Scotty held up the infrared camera. "Unless we get it," he said. + +Rick's eyes widened. Go back to Creek House? But even as he shuddered +at the thought of what would happen to them if they were caught again, +he knew there was no other way. + +"Jerry," he said crisply, "we're going on ahead. Run us down to the +dock and we'll get started. Then you come back here and wait for +Captain Douglas and Duke. Give them the pictures and this dope from +the shipping news, and for the love of Rick and Scotty, tell them to +step on it when they start for Seaford!" + +Jerry protested halfheartedly as they sped to the dock, but they +convinced him it would be better for him to wait and impress on the +others the need for speed. He dropped them at the speedboat with a +plea to be careful, then headed back to the office. + +Scotty got behind the wheel while Rick cast off and they roared out to +sea with the throttle wide open. The speedboat climbed to the step and +planed along like a racer, leaving a foaming wake. Then, as they +passed Spindrift Island and met rougher water, it began to bounce +from one wave crest to the next. Spray swirled over the windshield and +into the boat. Scotty started the wipers. Rick crouched down under the +dashboard and rechecked his camera, trying out the infrared dynamo and +the camera motor. Just to be on the safe side, he had brought the +camera case, which contained the extra film and a tripod. Now he got +the tripod ready but waited to see what would happen before he placed +the camera on it. + +He sat back in the seat, satisfied that everything was in readiness, +and looked around him. Suddenly he stiffened. There were ship running +lights on the horizon. The trawler fleet was returning to Seaford, and +Brad Marbek would be among them! He leaned over and switched out their +own running lights. + +Scotty glanced around, saw the masthead lights, and nodded his +understanding. + +"Better make a plan," he suggested. "What do we do when we get there?" + +"Stick our heads into the lion's mouth," Rick replied unhappily. "I +hate to try getting into the Creek House grounds again after last +time!" + +"Do we have to? How about watching from the boat?" + +"We couldn't get near enough without being seen. Wait! We could at +that!" Rick struggled to remember details of the photo they had taken +showing the marsh opposite Creek House. "We could go into the marsh. +Remember that inlet nearest the creek? That branched off in the right +direction. There are emergency oars in this and we could use them as +poles and shove our way in. We might get close enough." + +"And if we don't, we can wade the rest of the way." Scotty leaned over +and wiped mist from the windshield. "Good idea." He laughed, without +mirth. "Brad and the two redheads would have a fine time chasing us +through the swamp. Here's one pigeon they'd never catch." + +"Make it two pigeons," Rick corrected. + +They were making good time, even though the slapping of the speedboat +over the rough water was giving them a bad jouncing. They roared past +the last group of summer cottages before Brendan's Marsh, leaving a +wake that set the boats anchored near the shore to rocking. + +At Rick's suggestion, Scotty throttled down as they swept along the +edge of the marsh. The noise of the wide-open engine might be heard at +Creek House and arouse suspicion. Then, as Smugglers' Light neared and +they knew they were getting close, Scotty throttled down still more. +Rick unlashed the pair of oars from their position along the gunwale +and got them ready. It was fully dark now and difficult to see, +although the moon was rising. + +Scotty leaned over and cut the ignition. "Don't dare to use the engine +any nearer than this," he said, his voice low. + +Rick saw that they were perilously near the creek mouth. He turned to +look at the incoming trawlers and saw the nearest one almost abeam of +them a quarter mile out. "Watch for that inlet," he whispered. "And +let's get into the next seat back. The windshield will interfere if we +try to paddle from here." He hadn't rigged the oarlocks, knowing they +would be unable to row in the narrow inlet. They would have to use +the oars as paddles. + +They climbed over the seat back and each took an oar, kneeling like +canoeists. Rick was on the inland side, and he saw the inlet mouth +first. "Here," he whispered, and backed water with his oar. The bow of +the boat swung around. + +Rushes and marsh grass scraped past them. The lights of Creek House +were still invisible. Rick strained his eyes to see; it was almost +inky black in the tall rushes. Then Scotty reached out and felt with +his oar. + +"Left turn," he whispered. He had found the inlet branch that led +toward the hotel. Now he backed water, trying not to splash, while +Rick poled ahead. The boat swung into the narrow channel, reeds +touching it on both sides and making a hissing noise as they +progressed. + +"Only a few feet of water," Rick said softly. "And mud at the bottom." +Each time he lifted his oar he felt the weight of a ball of muck on +the end. + +The boat slid gently to a stop. Both boys put their weight on the +oars, but it moved only two feet ahead then stopped once more. They +put their heads together and discussed it in a low whisper because +they were near the creek. + +"We're aground," Scotty said. + +"Guess we get out and walk," Rick returned. "Better take our shoes and +socks off. It will be muddy." + +"We'll be lucky if we don't sink in up to our necks." + +Scotty took his arm suddenly. Rick started to ask what was the matter, +then he heard it, too. The cough of a Diesel engine exhaust and the +clanking of gear told him that a ship was nearing. A shiver ran +through him. Brad Marbek, coming in to load! + +"Let's step on it, he whispered. He sat down and removed his shoes and +socks, then climbed up on the gunwale and walked forward, brushing +against the rushes but trying not to make too much noise. He took his +oar and shoved straight down from the bow. There was about a foot of +water, then another eighteen inches of mud before the bottom firmed. +It would be hard going. He started back, but Scotty came to meet him, +carrying the camera and power pack. + +"The tripod," Rick requested in a low whisper. "If the ground is so +soft I can't get a firm stance, I'll need it." + +Scotty handed him the equipment, then went back and got the tripod. +Rick screwed the camera into place with a few turns of the tripod nut. +Scotty disconnected the power cord that led from the power pack to the +camera and coiled it up. They could reconnect it when they needed it. +Meanwhile, it would interfere with their progress. He slung the power +pack over his shoulder. + +Rick put the camera and tripod on the deck, then turned his back to +the creek and lowered himself. The water was cold and the muck seemed +to reach up for him. He felt firmer ground under his toes and let +himself go, then held his hands within reach of the boat as he +continued to sink. He was up to his thighs when the ground finally +held. He reached up and took the camera, holding it high in the air, +and started forward. + +Each step was an effort. He had to lift his leg high before each step, +and the mud clung. Behind him, he heard the sucking, splashing, of +Scotty's progress. + +Then the ground began to get firmer until at last there was only a +thin film of water and about a foot of mud. The lights of Creek House +could be seen through the rushes now. He held up his hand as a warning +to Scotty. They were close to the bank. In a moment he parted the +reeds and looked through. Scotty moved to his side. The _Albatross_ +was tying up at Creek House pier, and Brad Marbek was just leaping to +the dock where the Kelsos waited. But the boys were too far down +toward the creek mouth. They would have to move along the bank. Rick +gave Scotty a little push in that direction and Scotty understood. He +went back into the marsh a few feet, then led the way. + +It was easier going, but still far from pleasant. The muck gave every +step a slurping sound, and it clung in gobs. Then the vantage point +Scotty selected was reached, directly opposite the pier. They parted +the rushes slightly and looked out. + +The crew of the _Albatross_ was climbing down under the pier. As the +boys watched, they poled out a shallow-draft, broad-beamed rowboat +about fifteen feet long. It was the barge on which the contraband had +waited in the swamp. + +Rick put his lips to Scotty's ear. "Wonder why Captain Douglas didn't +see that?" + +"He probably did. It wouldn't mean anything with the cargo gone." + +Sensible, Rick thought. There would have been no occasion for the +captain to mention it. He searched for a bit of firmer ground on which +to rest the camera and found it. He began to worry about the hum of +the dynamo. Would it be heard when they turned it on? And the +filament of the infrared searchlight would be visible, too, against +the dark background of the marsh. Did they dare try it? + +The crew of the _Albatross_ was in the flatboat--it scarcely could be +called a rowboat--already heading upstream. The Kelsos and Marbek +walked toward the house. + +Good! That would give them a chance to try the camera. Rick waited +impatiently until the boat rounded the turn leading to Salt Creek +Bridge, then he sighted in on the _Albatross_, checked his settings, +and started both the camera and infrared light. The dynamo and camera +motor hummed quietly. He breathed a sigh of relief. Surely that much +sound would blend imperceptibly with the normal night noises. Peepers +in the fresher water upstream made more noise than that. He walked +ahead of the camera and peered into the infrared searchlight. If +anyone looked real closely, they might see it. He hoped the men on the +opposite shore would be too busy to glance his way. + +He switched off the mechanism and settled down to wait. His trousers +were wet and heavy with mud, and his legs and feet were chilled. +Mosquitoes whined around his head and little gnats settled down for a +meal on his exposed neck and head. He began to wonder if it was worth +it. + +Carrots Kelso came out of the house, and he had his rifle. The boys +watched as he disappeared behind the hotel, taking up his position as +guard. + +Each minute had lead in its shoes. Why didn't the boat return? And +then, suddenly, it was rounding the bend! Rick moved behind the camera +and loosened the pan-head. He swung the lens upstream. Scotty parted +the rushes for him and he began to shoot. Infrared illuminated the +boat clearly. He saw the faces of the crew, saw the cases stacked from +stem to stem and even read their labels. Hummer sewing machines. He +didn't believe for a moment that there were really sewing machines in +them, but he couldn't guess their actual content. + +He stopped shooting and rewound the camera while Scotty cranked the +dynamo spring, then he took another brief sequence, stopped, and +waited. No more now until they actually reached the dock and started +to transfer the stuff. + +Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came out of the hotel and he started +shooting again, then he switched to a telephoto lens and took a +close-up of their faces as they watched the boat draw near. + +Carrots appeared around the front of the hotel and Rick got him, too, +before he vanished again, patrolling the grounds. + +The boat touched the dock. A crewman leaped to the place where Kelso +and Marbek stood. There was conversation with much gesturing and +pointing into the boat. Then the crewman jumped down again and +motioned to one of his fellows. Rick started shooting. Clearly, as +though it were day, he saw the two bend over something in the bow. +They heaved upright and a chill shot through him. A man, bound and +gagged! Then they turned the man over to hand him up to the dock and +Rick's teeth clamped on his lip so hard that he groaned. + +It was Jerry Webster! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +The Fight at Creek House + + +Rick and Scotty watched helplessly as Jerry was carried into the +hotel, then they looked at each other wordlessly. In a moment the +seamen who had carried him returned, but Brad and Red didn't. + +The one who had first reported to Brad, probably the mate or bosun, +stood on the dock and called to the men in the boat. The boys could +hear him clearly. "Let's get busy. We've got to load this stuff fast." + +One of the men in the boat asked, "What they going to do with the +kid?" + +"Find out what he knows, then knock him on the head and shove him +under the fish until we're out where we can dump him." + +Rick and Scotty grabbed for each other at the same time. They knew +without speaking what they had to do. Rick snatched up the camera, +hauling it out of the muck recklessly. He pulled the power plug and +Scotty reeled it in. They plowed through the swamp as fast as they +could without making too much of a disturbance. Scotty led the way, +cutting straight through the marsh to the boat, his highly developed +direction sense showing him the way. + +It seemed forever to Rick, but it was actually only a few minutes +before they were climbing into the boat. "What do we do?" he asked +desperately as he stowed the camera. "If we start the boat, they'll +hear it, and it would take too long to pole out." + +"Swim," Scotty said tersely. "It's faster. Get out of your clothes, +but tie the laces of your shoes together and hang the shoes around +your neck. We'll need 'em." + +Quickly they stripped to their shorts, then draped shoes around their +necks and slipped into the mud again. The water deepened rapidly and +they began to swim with a noiseless side stroke. Rick followed Scotty, +knowing that his friend was at his best in a situation like this. + +They reached the edge of the marsh and angled along its edge, swimming +strongly. Rick was in an agony of fear for Jerry. How had he gotten +caught? And where? Scotty slowed, then stopped. The sudden feel of +sluggish current warned Rick they were at the creek mouth. + +"Watch the splashes," Scotty whispered. "We'll cross to the outside of +the fence." + +For the next few moments they would be vulnerable if Carrots Kelso +happened to walk to the bank and look across. It had to be chanced. +Scotty started out and Rick drew abreast of him. They swam cautiously, +making no noise or splash, reached the opposite bank safely and +crawled up the beach until they were sure the fence hid them from any +watchers at Creek House. + +"Got to draw Carrots to the back side of the hotel," Scotty +whispered. "Then we can get in through the creek side of the fence. +But how?" + +Rick thought quickly. If they could make some sort of noise on the +other side ... but it would take too long to go over there and then +come back again and it wouldn't be safe to enter near where they made +the noise, anyway. He started to put on his shoes, and as his fingers +touched the strings, an idea blossomed. "Hunt for a piece of rope or +wire," he said swiftly, and began running down the reef, eyes +searching the dark ground. Scotty went to the other side and began to +search, too. Rick knew they would find what he wanted on the wreck of +the trawler but hoped he wouldn't have to go that far. He was in luck. +He stumbled over a loop of rusty wire, grabbed it, and heaved. It came +free. Swiftly his fingers explored it. About eight feet. That was +good. Probably it had been buried when the part of the reef nearest +the hotel had been filled in with trash to make a parking area. He had +noticed odds and ends of junk around. He ran over to Scotty and told +him what else was needed and they both hunted until they found a +jagged piece of metal that would suit. It weighed about two pounds, +and it had holes along one edge, probably originally drilled for +rivets. They unkinked the wire carefully, then Rick passed one end +through a hole in the steel and made it fast while Scotty bent a loop +in the other end and wound the wire around itself to make a handhold. + +"You do it," Rick whispered. + +Scotty put a hand through the loop he had made and gripped it tight, +then he went as close to the hotel fence as he could without raising +the trajectory too high and began to whirl the contraption around his +head. Faster and faster he whirled it until it began to whine, then +with all the momentum of his body he released it. + +The missile soared away in a long, low arc, past the hotel and on. The +boys waited, not breathing, and heard it crunch through the reeds on +the far side of the hotel. They ran to the creek end of the fence and +looked around. The men at the pier were looking toward the marsh +behind the garage. Red Kelso was walking that way and Carrots was +running, rifle lifted. + +Scotty and Rick rounded the corner and ran silently to the front of +the hotel. Now to find Jerry! Rick stepped to the front porch and +tried the door. It was unlocked. Taking his nerve in both hands, he +pushed the door open and stepped inside. + +It was quiet in the hotel. He knew the layout; they had explored every +inch of it. He led the way toward the kitchen, then flattened against +the wall of the hallway as he saw the light streaming through. He felt +Scotty brush against him. Rick leaned forward, keeping his face in the +shadow, just as Brad Marbek, his curiosity getting the better of him, +walked to the side door and stepped out. + +Rick took a long step into the kitchen. No one in it. Then he saw a +lighted doorway across the room. It was a good bet. With his eyes on +the door through which Brad had gone, he trotted swiftly across the +floor. Scotty was right behind him. + +Rick smothered an exclamation as he saw Jerry. The reporter was seated +in a chair, tied fast to it. The gag, a bundle of rags, had been +stuffed into his mouth. There was a bad bruise over his left eye and +another on his left temple. Rick was at his side in three long steps. +He jerked the gag from Jerry's mouth, cautioned him to silence, and +started to untie him. Scotty went to the window, which fortunately +faced the Seaford side of the house, and leaned out. + +Rick heard Brad call, "Find anyone?" Then a faint answering call. "No +one here." + +"Hurry," Scotty whispered. He went to the door and stood to one side +of it, looking into the kitchen. + +Rick tugged at a recalcitrant knot, then got it loose. Jerry stood up, +hands still tied behind him. Rick fought with the knot and wished for +a knife. + +There were footsteps in the kitchen. Rick's fingers got a hold and he +heaved. The footsteps came closer. Scotty crouched. Brad Marbek +entered the room and stepped into a terrific roundhouse swing with all +of Scotty's frantic weight behind it. Brad stumbled backward and fell, +and he roared. + +"They're in the house! Cover the doors!" + +He got to his feet and his powerful legs drove him forward. Scotty +stepped directly into his way. + +The rope loosened in Rick's hand. He unwound Jerry, working as fast as +he could. He turned just in time to see Brad's arms reach for Scotty. +The fisherman's face was distorted in a snarl and blood trickled from +his cut lip. + +Scotty back-pedaled swiftly. He took Brad's out-stretched hands, then +fell backward, feet lifting, catching Brad in the stomach. Scotty +heaved. The heave and the smuggler's momentum shot him headlong. He +smashed into the wall. + +Scotty leaped to his feet. "Run!" he yelled. + +Rick propelled Jerry into the kitchen, and as they started across the +room he saw Red Kelso at the door. "The front," he called. "Hurry, +Jerry." + +The reporter was fast getting the use of his limbs back. Scotty led +the way to the front hall and Jerry stumbled after him. As Rick passed +through the doorway from the kitchen into the wide hallway he spotted +a cabinet. He grabbed it and tugged. It came away from the wall and he +stepped from under it, letting it crash at an angle across the +passageway. That would hold Red for a few seconds. They sprinted for +the open front door and met Carrots head on just inside the entrance. + +Scotty dove at him. His shoulder caught the redhead in the chest and +slammed him backward. Carrots' arms flew up and the rifle he was +carrying sailed from his grasp and slid across the porch to the +sidewalk. The boys started to pile out over him, then they stopped +short. Two of the crew were pounding up the sidewalk, leaping to the +steps, and they carried clubs! + +They were trapped! "Up the stairs," Rick said hoarsely. + +Scotty bent over the fallen Carrots and jerked him to his feet. +"You're coming with us," he grated. + +Rick was already halfway to the stairs. Red Kelso was climbing over +the blockade in the hallway, Brad Marbek behind him. Rick stopped. +"Hurry, Scotty!" + +"Hostage," Scotty grunted. He took Carrots' arm in a Japanese +wristlock and rushed him across the room. Carrots struggled, then let +out a yelp. It was either go peacefully or break his own arm. "Run," +Scotty commanded, and Carrots ran, up the stairs. Jerry followed and +Rick brought up the rear. Their pursuers were gaining! + +Rick's mind raced as he climbed two stairs at a time, reconstructing +the plan of the house. He rejected the idea of barricading themselves +in a room on the second or third floor; the halls would give their +enemies too much room for a battering rush against the door. "The +attic," he called ahead to Scotty, "and step on it! They're gaining!" + +They crossed the second-floor landing and went up the stairs to the +third. At the top of the third landing was a rusty bucket, full of +sand. Rick knew, because he had been forced to dig through the sand. +It was evidently a relic of Coast Guard occupancy, placed there to +extinguish incendiaries. He pressed hard against Jerry's heels, +hearing the thud of footsteps on the stairs behind him and the cries +of "Get 'em" from Red Kelso. + +Scotty, Carrots, and Jerry sprinted for the attic stairs. Rick paused +long enough to scoop up the bucket of sand. He hurled it after him, +straight into the faces of the smugglers and found time for a grin at +their yells and curses. + +The attic stairs led straight up, with no landing at the top. The door +was ajar. Rick's trick had gained a little time. They went through it +with seconds to spare, and Rick slammed it shut. "Find a light," he +gasped. "There's one up here." He remembered a tiny bulb, high in the +ceiling. + +"Key," Scotty snapped. "In the door. Outside. It was there last time." + +Rick opened the door and had a quick glimpse of dark figures rushing +up the stairs. He fumbled for the key, jerked it loose, and slammed +the door. With his shoulder against it he inserted the key on their +side and twisted it just as bodies thumped against the other side. + +Jerry found the light switch and turned it on. Carrots, lips drawn +tight, was bent over in the judo hold Scotty had on him. Rick found a +few old pieces of overstuffed furniture, too disreputable to have been +moved or sold, and he and Jerry pushed them against the door. + +"If we can hold out," Jerry said between swollen lips, "Captain +Douglas will get here." + +"If!" Rick echoed. + +Red Kelso called through the door. "Okay, you kids. Open up and we'll +make things easy on you. But if we have to break the door down, it'll +be rugged." + +The boys looked at each other. Carrots grinned. Rick didn't like the +grin. He yelled back, "Try to come through that door and we throw your +son out the window!" + +Carrots turned white. + +"Stop talking like a fool and open up," Kelso demanded. + +"We warned you," Rick yelled. + +There was a solid thump as shoulders hit the door. Rick cast a +desperate look at Scotty. The door wouldn't hold long. Scotty winked +at Rick and jerked his chin at Carrots' back. + +"Out the window with him," Rick growled. He lunged forward and took +the boy's legs. Jerry, who had caught the wink too, took his shoulders +while Scotty kept a wristlock clamped tight. They rushed Carrots to +the window and Rick let go long enough to throw up the sash. Then they +lifted Carrots to the sill. + +"Pop!" he screamed. "They're throwing me out!" + +The thumping at the door ceased. The elder Kelso called, "Keep your +head, Jimmy. They don't dare. They know we're comin' in, anyway, and +if they throw you out they haven't got a chance." + +Kelso had spoken the exact truth, and the boys knew it. They let +Carrots slump to the floor. "Get close," Scotty said. He spoke into +Carrots' ear. "One peep out of you and I'll break your arm. Listen. +We've got to have help and quick. Who's the fastest runner?" + +"Jerry," Rick said promptly. The reporter had been a sprinting +champion in school. "Are you okay now?" + +"Fine. What's your plan?" + +A door panel splintered as shoulders crashed against it. Good thing +there was little space to stand out there. The smugglers couldn't get +much leverage. Scotty talked fast. "We'll unblock the door and open it +suddenly, then, Rick, you dive into the mob. They'll be off balance +because the stairs are steep. Jerry, you'll have to leap for it, over +their heads, and try to get away." He was behind Carrots and his wink +was concealed. "Carrots will help us." + +"I won't," Carrots stated. + +"You will," Scotty corrected, "and you'll say 'Pop, hold it a minute. +They want to talk it over.' Just like that." He twisted his hand +slightly and Carrots yelped. + +Scotty marched him to the door. Rick and Jerry slid the furniture +away. The door was close to giving in now, the hinges starting to pull +loose. Rick put one hand on the key and the other on the knob, hoping +he had interpreted Scotty's wink correctly. Jerry crouched to one +side of the door. Scotty held Carrots directly in front of it and +commanded: "Speak your piece." + +Carrots did, willingly, under the pressure of Scotty's hand. + +The thumping stopped. + +"What do they want to talk over?" Kelso demanded. + +Scotty nodded. Rick spun the key and jerked the door open. Carrots, +all of Scotty's driving weight behind him, catapulted headlong and +smashed into the men on the stairs like a battering ram. They tumbled +down under the impact like a row of dominoes, and Jerry went out the +door as though shot from a crossbow. His flying feet struck backs, +legs, and spurned faces. He gained the landing in a mad dive, +scrambled to his feet, and was gone. + +The smugglers clambered to their feet, or tried to. "After him," +Marbek bellowed. + +Red Kelso had fallen backward, and his legs were almost at the door. +Scotty and Rick grabbed simultaneously and heaved, sending the upper +men sprawling again. Then the boys withdrew and slammed and locked the +door. Jerry had had the advantage of complete surprise, and his +momentum had gotten him past the men on the lower stairs. Rick and +Scotty couldn't have made it after the initial shock. + +They pushed the furniture against the door again and drew back. Unless +help was near, they were done for. There was nothing more they could +do except wait, and fight once the door gave. Rick wrenched the leg +from an ancient and broken chair and silently handed it to Scotty. +Then he found one for himself. + +The banging had renewed almost instantly. Scotty went to the window +and looked out. Rick joined him just in time to see Jerry round the +corner of the fence. + +"He made it," Rick said with satisfaction. Two of the seamen crossed +below, but Rick knew they would never catch his friend. He turned to +face the door. + +"Closer," Scotty said. + +They moved closer and took places, one on each side of the door, and +waited. + +Smash. And again, and again. Wood dust flew as hinge screws gave with +a loud screech. The door was just hanging now. One more smash! It flew +inward and Red and Brad charged, two seamen close behind them. + +Rick met Brad Marbek with a lightning thrust of his chair leg, and the +smuggler doubled up. But his great body could absorb more punishment +than Rick could give. He drove forward, brushed aside a swing of the +chair leg, and his arms locked around the boy. Rick groaned as the +steely hug drove the air from him; he felt a hand loosen, and kicked +frantically for Brad's legs, then Brad's free hand caught him behind +the ear, stunning him. Rick slumped to the floor fighting for breath +and consciousness. Across the room, the seamen had Scotty, grabbing +for his flailing arms while Red Kelso stood back and shot punches at +him. Then the seamen got a firm grip and held him fast. Kelso's open +hand slapped, back and forth, until Scotty's head sagged. + +Carrots crawled into the room, his face contorted, one hand on his +ribs. He got to his feet and walked unsteadily over to Scotty. He +swung a roundhouse right. Scotty's head moved an inch. Carrots +missed, and the force of his swing spun him around and he almost +fell. + +Rick laughed gaspingly. + +Carrots' face turned scarlet. He walked over to where Rick was +struggling for wind and drew his foot back. "I'm goin' to kick your +teeth right down your throat," he grated. + +Cap'n Mike's voice came from the doorway. "I'd call that mighty +impolite!" + +Rick turned on his side and stared unbelievingly. The old sea captain +stood rock steady in the door, and at his shoulder was Carrots' rifle. + +He spoke calmly. "Only got one shot in here. You could get me before I +had time to pump it up again. Found it on the porch and took me a few +minutes to figure it out. Almost put a slug through my foot doing it. +But I got it in hand now. Got one shot. Who wants it?" + +Marbek took a half step forward and the muzzle swung to cover him. +Cap'n Mike's finger tightened. "You, Brad?" + +Marbek stepped back. + +"Come toward me, both of you," Cap'n Mike said. "Rick and Scotty." + +Rick crawled forward, under the line of fire. Scotty, suddenly +released, dropped to the floor and did the same. + +The smugglers stayed where they were, frozen by the calm threat of the +old man's voice. "Been eel fishing," he said. "Saw that young reporter +skate around the corner with two men after him. Then I noticed Scotty +and Rick looking out, and I thought I better take a hand. Didn't know +just what to do until I spotted this BB gun in front of the porch." + +His voice hardened as Red Kelso shifted position. "But now I know what +to do." + +Far down Million Dollar Row, Jerry met the State Police cars. And as +Rick grinned up at the Captain, he heard the welcome sound of sirens. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Read All About It! + + +Jerry Webster came out of the pressroom with a bundle of papers under +his arm, the roar of the presses providing a background for his chant. +"Extra! Read All About It! Spindrifters Smear Smugglers! Seaman Shows +Shootin' Savvy! Simple Sap Scampers, Saves Skin! Read All About It!" + +Rick snatched one of the papers. "Thanks, I will. Hey, gang, listen to +this!" He read the headline aloud. "'Seaford Gunrunners Caught.'" + +Scotty took a paper, too, and read the subhead. "'New Night Movie +Camera Supplies Evidence for Surprise Raid.'" He grinned at Jerry and +Duke Barrows. "Very restrained. Not a purple adjective in the lot." + +Captain Douglas let out a bellow. "Hey! You don't mention the State +Police until the second line of the story. Call a cop someone, I want +these guys pinched." + +"Charge 'em with serving poison coffee," Cap'n Mike suggested. "Never +drank such a brew in my life." + +Duke grinned. "That isn't coffee, skipper. It's printer's ink with +cream and sugar. Go on, Rick, or someone. Read the rest of it." + +"Byline," Rick said, "by Jerry Webster, and under that it says +copyrighted by the _Morning Record_. How did you copyright it so +quickly, Duke?" + +"Sent a copy air mail to the copyright office and enclosed a dollar. +The letter will go out tonight. It's standard procedure. Go on, read. +I edited Jerry's story so fast I didn't have a chance to enjoy it." + +Rick read on. "'A Seaford trawler captain, four members of his crew, +and two New Yorkers were arrested tonight on gunrunning charges after +a surprise raid by State Police officers culminated a series of events +that included the wrecking of the trawler _Sea Belle_, the use of a +new invention by the two youngest members of the Spindrift Island +Foundation to photograph the transfer of arms under cover of darkness +on the high seas, the kidnapping and maltreatment of a _Morning +Record_ reporter, and a fight in the attic of the Creek House hotel +that was ended by the timely intervention of a retired sea captain.'" +Rick got the last words out with his last bit of breath. + +Scotty looked at Jerry with admiration. "He's not only a distance +runner, he's a distance writer. That was a hundred-yard sentence." + +"I cannot tell a lie," Jerry said modestly. "I did it with my little +dictionary. Written by an ancestor who was also famous. Noah Webster." + +"'One of the most surprising disclosures,'" Rick read on, "'was the +reason for the stubborn silence of Captain Thomas Tyler, master of the +trawler _Sea Belle_, which was wrecked on Smugglers' Reef a week ago. +As reported in previous editions, Captain Tyler maintained an +obstinate silence as to the real reason for the wreck of the trawler +in the face of pleas from friends and officials. He had maintained +that he was solely responsible and that his error in judgment had been +caused by liquor. After the arrest of the smugglers, Captain Tyler +willingly told this reporter that he had discovered the smuggling +activities of Captain Bradford Marbek and Roger and James Kelso two +weeks before.'" + +"That was a good guess we made," Cap'n Mike said soberly. "Poor Tom. +He was in some spot. He knew about the smuggling, but he was like we +were. Couldn't prove a thing. He could have told the police and asked +for protection, but they wouldn't have had grounds for holding Brad +and the Kelsos. They would have been free to carry out their threats +against his family inside of twenty-four hours." + +"That's right," Scotty said. "But he didn't know any more than we did +what they were smuggling." + +The axes of police officers had disclosed rifles, submachine guns, and +ammunition in the cases innocently labeled as sewing machines, and no +one had been more surprised than the boys. + +"Thousands of guns and ammunition must have gone out before we caught +on," Rick said. "What happens to the people that received them?" + +"That's not our affair," Captain Douglas told him. "Since they went to +ships and nationals of a foreign country, it's up to the Department of +State to take action, if there's going to be any." + +"We filed the story with Universal Press Service," Jerry explained. +"It's all over the country by this time. Copyright by the Whiteside +_Morning Record_." He grinned. "We're modest, Duke and I." + +"You are, anyway," Rick scoffed. "'Kidnapping and maltreatment of a +_Morning Record_ reporter.' Why didn't you give the reporter's name?" + +Jerry turned a little red, but he said loftily, "We heroes prefer to +remain anonymous." + +"Heroes is right," Duke said dryly. "You came within an inch of having +a bronze plaque erected to your memory as one who fell in line of +duty." + +"What? Only bronze?" Jerry looked hurt. + +Rick gave him a comradely wink. Jerry's act had brought him close to +the ranks of heroes at that, if quick thinking and nerve combined with +bad luck were any qualification. He glanced through the story quickly, +and found what the young reporter had said about his own part. + +"'While attempting to gather evidence, the _Morning Record_ reporter +who figured in the case was caught by the truckmen who delivered the +arms to Creek House. After being beaten, bound, and gagged, he was +taken to the hotel. His questioning was interrupted by the arrival of +Brant and Scott.'" + +And that really was modesty. Jerry had been returning from the boat +landing when he passed a big trailer truck that carried the name of a +large manufacturer of industrial castings. He thought quickly, +surprised at seeing such a vehicle in Whiteside. Such trucks always +used the shorter main route. To his positive knowledge, there was not +a single manufacturing plant on the entire shore road on which +Whiteside and Seaford were located. There was a definite chance, he +decided, that the truck might be carrying a load for Creek House. He +knew the smugglers had made fast changes in their plans, as witness +the moving up of the ship sailing. There was a strong possibility they +had been forced to ask for immediate shipment of contraband, too. + +Jerry passed the truck and stopped at the newspaper long enough to +scrawl a note to Duke, explaining what had happened, then he passed +the truck again and drove furiously toward Seaford. He went by Salt +Creek Bridge and parked his car in a pasture, then ran back to the +bridge, made his way into the marsh and waited. + +The trailer truck arrived, stopped, and put out flares, and three men +got out. They jacked up the rear wheels of the trailer, then started +to unload. By so doing, they had a perfect reason for being there. If +a police car came along, they had only to explain that they had broken +an axle and were replacing it, and that they had taken out part of +their cargo to lighten the load until repairs were completed. + +The stage was no sooner set than up the river came the flatboat from +Creek House. It pushed its way into the marsh, toward Jerry. Not until +the actual loading started did he discover his bad luck. He had taken +a fairly well-defined path into the marsh. The path was artificial, +made by the Kelsos. They had carried rocks to make both the path and +the stone jetty to which the flatboat had come. The deception had +worked, because the path and jetty surfaces, strong enough to carry +the weight of men with heavy cases, were under an inch of mud and +water! + +Jerry had described the end simply. "They fell over me. I tried to get +away, but there were too many of them." + +But he had gotten in one good blow. His hand closed over one of the +rocks of the path and he swung it effectively. The State Police, +hearing his story, made a routine check of doctors and hospitals along +the route the truck probably had taken; they assumed it would not turn +around on the narrow shore road. The trucker Jerry had felled was in a +small clinic two towns below Seaford, and an interstate alarm had gone +out for the others, giving license numbers and descriptions supplied +by the reporter. They wouldn't get far. + +Jerry's luck had been bad, but Captain Douglas' luck had been good. +The accumulated evidence probably would have been enough, but one of +Brad's seamen had talked, hoping for a lighter sentence. + +Rick was most pleased to find that his theory about Smugglers' Light +had been close to the truth. The marks on the old tower had been made +by a powerful light supplied by Brad Marbek. The light, once used for +night purse seine fishing, was powered by a carbon arc. A cable, +connected into the same junction box that supplied Smugglers' Reef +Light, had furnished the power. The police officers had found signs of +tampering in the junction box, but they had called the authorities +responsible for the light to make a definite check. The light itself +had been stowed in Brad Marbek's home. One quarter of the cylinder had +been blacked out with paint. Red cellophane was pasted on to another +quarter. + +There were still no answers to who had phoned the warning to Rick, or +why Carrots had trailed them into Whiteside, but those things weren't +important, anyway. Probably their original guesses had been right. + +The others had fallen silent, engrossed in reading Jerry's story. Rick +went through it again, more carefully. The young reporter had done +well. It was an exciting yarn. Then he looked at the "side pieces," +other stories dealing with the case, written by both Duke and Jerry in +the feverish rush to make the morning paper. There was a simple +statement by Captain Killian, who long since was asleep in his own bed +at Seaford. There was a photo of Rick and Scotty with the infrared +camera and a story by Duke of its use in the collecting of evidence. +The staff photographer had taken that one after they all returned to +Whiteside, accompanying the police and the prisoners to jail. The +entire back page was devoted to pictures, some reproductions from +Rick's movie and some taken at the jail by the staff photographer. +There was one of Cap'n Mike holding Carrots' rifle, and the caption +explained how he had rescued the boys. + +"How much per column inch did you say?" Rick asked Duke slyly. + +"Too much. This will bankrupt me." + +Scotty folded his paper. "We'd better get back to Spindrift, Rick." + +"That's right." Rick knew his folks would be waiting to see the paper, +too. He had phoned them as soon as they reached the jail. + +"I'll take you to the landing," Jerry offered, "then I'll run Cap'n +Mike down to Seaford." + +"Never mind," Captain Douglas said. "I have a patrol car going down +that way in fifteen minutes. It can drop him off." + +Cap'n Mike shook hands with both of the boys. "I'll see you tomorrow, +I reckon." + +"In the afternoon," Rick said. "We'll sleep in the morning." After the +fight at Creek House, Cap'n Mike had rowed them to the Spindrift +speedboat in his dory. They had gotten their clothes, but left the +boat at the hotel. It would be safe; police officers would keep an eye +on it while guarding the load of arms. + +Captain Douglas shook hands, too. "I should make a speech," he told +them with a smile. "You know, about your both being good citizens, +aiding the police at risk of life and limb and so on...." + +Rick grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid we weren't thinking about the +citizen part of it, Captain. We just...." + +"I was about to add that." Captain Douglas laughed. "But thanks, +anyway." + +Duke Barrows said, "I don't suppose you would accept the coffee we +served you as part payment?" + +Scotty snorted. "Aren't you the one said it wasn't coffee?" + +"All right." Duke's shoulders slumped. "Drive me into debt paying you +off. Go ahead." + +"We will," Rick retorted, "and don't take the price of these papers +you gave us off the amount, either." + +The editor laughed. "Okay. Take them home, Jerry. They'll have to wait +until the first of the month for their money, just like the rest of +our creditors. So long, kids, and thanks a million for a swell story." + +As they drove to the landing, Rick glanced quizzically at Jerry. +"Well, you asked for it. Remember?" + +Jerry was puzzled. + +"The night we went to get a story on the wreck," Scotty explained. +"Didn't you say you wished you would get in on an adventure with us?" + +"I certainly did. I didn't know what I was asking for, believe me." +Jerry's grin widened. He touched his head tenderly, patting the +bruises he had collected. Then he laughed. "I was scared silly, but +you know, I kind of enjoyed it!" + +Rick and Scotty broke into laughter, too. + + * * * * * + +Rick was figuring out some changes in the infrared camera attachment +on the following Monday when Scotty came into the room. + +"Just got back from Whiteside with the paper and the mail," he +announced. "And look at this!" He indicated an item on the front page. + +It was a Universal News Service dispatch. Authorities of a republic in +the Caribbean had arrested the country's former dictator on a charge +of planning a revolution, pointing to a large cache of arms and +ammunition found on his estate as evidence. Arrested for complicity +was the president of the Compania Maritima Caribe y Atlantica. +Warrants were being issued for a number of others. + +"That settles that," Rick said. "Looks like we stopped a revolution!" + +"We're the kids what did it," Scotty boasted. He dropped a letter in +front of Rick. "Got this, too. Look who it's from." + +The postmark was Bombay. It was from Chahda, the first letter since +the Hindu boy had left them in New Caledonia to return to India. + +"He's fine," Scotty said. "I read it at the post office. His brothers +and sisters didn't believe some of his stories, but he's convincing +them. Also, he's going to work. He can't tell us yet what his job will +be, because it's a sort of secret." + +"Then he won't come back to America for a while," Rick said, +disappointed. "We won't see him." He grinned, remembering the first +time they had met Chahda. "He's probably at Crawford Market right now, +bargaining at the top of his lungs for something." He picked up the +letter and started to read, picturing Chahda, in his native dress once +more, at home in Bombay. + + * * * * * + +Rick's mental image was far from the truth. As he read the letter, +Chahda was writing to Rick and Scotty again, but this time he was +composing an urgent cable, laboriously working over the cipher that +would conceal its content from his strange enemy. + +The Hindu boy was in the hiding place he had chosen deep in the Indian +quarter of Singapore, but he knew it was only a temporary refuge. Once +he emerged, the shadow would find him again. But if he could succeed +in getting to the cable office first, Rick and Scotty would get his +message, and they would come. Once the three of them were united +again, let the shadow do as it would! + +Chahda finished his composition, folded it and tucked it securely into +his turban, then he slipped through a door into the darkness of the +Singapore night. In his ciphered message was the key to an adventure +that would plunge his American friends into both darkness and danger +in the fabled, terrifying Caves of Korse Lenken, a story to be related +in the next volume, + +THE CAVERNS OF FEAR. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE RICK BRANT + +Science-Adventure Stories + +BY JOHN BLAINE + + +Rick Brant and his pal, Scotty, have the kind of adventures all boys +would like to have. They live on an island called Spindrift where +Rick's father heads a group of scientists working in the field of +electronics. Here and abroad, the boys encounter many thrilling +adventures and solve many baffling mysteries. + +THE ROCKET'S SHADOW + +THE LOST CITY + +SEA GOLD + +100 FATHOMS UNDER + +THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY + +THE PHANTOM SHARK + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +THE CAVES OF FEAR + + +Grosset & Dunlap _Publishers_ + +NEW YORK 10, N.Y. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE KEN HOLT MYSTERY STORIES + +By Bruce Campbell + + +Ken Holt, son of a world-famous foreign correspondent, and Sandy +Allen, of the redheaded Allen clan, join forces at a time when Ken is +very much in need of help. They fall into the thick of a mystery as +readily as a duck takes to water, and no sooner are they on the scent +than the suspense begins to mount and every reader knows he is in for +a thrilling time. + + +THE SECRET OF SKELETON ISLAND + +Ken and Sandy solve the mystery of the strange goings-on at the +exclusive resort on Skeleton Island. + + +THE RIDDLE OF THE STONE ELEPHANT + +In Colorado gathering data for Ken's dad about an old lawsuit between +two ranchmen over water rights, Ken and Sandy find every move +thwarted, every action watched. + + +THE BLACK THUMB MYSTERY + +Ken and Sandy prove the innocence of a banker who has been found +guilty of conspiracy in a robbery. The boys track down many clues +before they discover the motive behind the sinister plot. + +THE CLUE OF THE MARKED CLAW + +Vacationing in a fishing village on Long Island, Ken and Sandy play an +unexpected part in the capture of a dangerous ring of smugglers. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +Publishers of WORDS: _The New Dictionary_ + +NEW YORK 10, N. Y. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE HARDY BOYS + +_Mystery Stories_ + +By FRANKLIN N. DIXON + + +All boys from 11 to 15 who like lively adventure stories, packed with +mystery and action, will want to read every one of the exciting Hardy +Boys stories listed below. Sons of a famous American detective, the +Hardy boys help solve many thrilling mysteries after school hours and +during vacations, as they follow up the clues they unearth in their +quest to bring criminals to justice. + + +_Now Available:_ + +1. THE TOWER TREASURE + +2. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF + +3. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL + +4. THE MISSING CHUMS + +5. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD + +6. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY + +7. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES + +8. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND + +9. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY + +10. WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT + +11. WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED + +12. FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW + +13. THE MARK ON THE DOOR + +14. THE HIDDEN HARBOR MYSTERY + +15. THE SINISTER SIGN POST + +16. A FIGURE IN HIDING + +17. THE SECRET WARNING + +18. THE TWISTED CLAW + +19. THE DISAPPEARING FLOOR + +20. THE MYSTERY OF THE FLYING EXPRESS + +21. THE CLUE OF THE BROKEN BLADE + +22. THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY + +23. THE MELTED COINS + +24. THE SHORT-WAVE MYSTERY + +25. THE SECRET PANEL + +26. THE PHANTOM FREIGHTER + +27. THE SECRET OF SKULL MOUNTAIN + +28. SIGN OF THE CROOKED ARROW + +29. THE SECRET OF THE LOST TUNNEL + +30. THE WAILING SIREN MYSTERY + +G R O S S E T & D U N L A P _Publishers_ N E W Y O R K + + * * * * * + + +_The_ RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE _Stories_ + +BY JOHN BLAINE + +THE ROCKET'S SHADOW + +THE LOST CITY + +SEA GOLD + +100 FATHOMS UNDER + +THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY + +THE PHANTOM SHARK + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +THE CAVES OF FEAR + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Smugglers' Reef, by John Blaine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + +***** This file should be named 28849-8.txt or 28849-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/8/4/28849/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Smugglers' Reef + +Author: John Blaine + +Release Date: May 16, 2009 [EBook #28849] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_02.jpg" width="600" height="411" alt="Cover" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_01.jpg" width="500" height="708" alt="Cover page" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_03.jpg" width="600" height="424" alt="End paper" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. </p></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_04.jpg" width="600" height="387" alt="MAP OF SMUGGLERS' REEF AND VICINITY" /> +<span class="caption">MAP OF SMUGGLERS' REEF AND VICINITY</span> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h4>A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY</h4> +<p> </p> +<h1>SMUGGLERS'<br /> +REEF</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2>BY JOHN BLAINE</h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/seal.jpg" width="125" height="117" alt="Seal" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS</h3> +<h3>NEW YORK, N. Y.</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h5>COPYRIGHT, 1950, BY</h5> +<h5>GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.</h5> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="tocch f1">CHAPTER</td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tocpg f1">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">I</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Night Assignment</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">II</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Cap'n Mike</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">III</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Redheaded Kelsos</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">IV</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">A Warning</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">V</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Mysterious Phone Call</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VI</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The</a></span> <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><i>Albatross</i></a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Search for a Clue</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">VIII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Old Tower</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">IX</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Night Watch</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">X</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Captured</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XI</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The Hearing</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Missing Fisherman</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Tracker</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIV</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Captain Killian</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XV</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Plimsoll Marks</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVI</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Night Flight</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Enter the Police</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XVIII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">Brendan's Marsh</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XIX</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">The Fight at Creek House</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">XX</td> + <td> </td> + <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">Read All About It!</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>SMUGGLERS' REEF</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h2>Night Assignment</h2> + + +<p>"Adventure," Rick Brant said, "is kind of hard to define, because what +may be adventure to one person may be commonplace to another." He took +a bite of cake and stretched his long legs comfortably. "Now, you take +flying with Scotty. That's the most adventurous thing I do."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Brant and Jerry Webster looked at Don Scott, the object +of Rick's jibe, and waited for his reply. Verbal warfare between the +two boys was a usual feature of the evening discussions on the big +front porch of the Brant home on Spindrift Island.</p> + +<p>Scotty, a husky, dark-haired boy, grinned lazily. "You've proved your +own point," he returned. "Flying with me is adventure to you but safe +travel to anyone else. I'd say the most adventurous thing you do is +drive a car."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brant, an attractive, motherly woman, poured another cup of +coffee for Jerry Webster. The young reporter had started the +discussion by stating wistfully that he wished he could share in some +of the Brant ad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>ventures. "Why do you call Rick's driving +adventurous?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"The dictionary says so," Scotty replied. "One definition of adventure +is 'a remarkable experience.'"</p> + +<p>Hartson Brant, Rick's scientist father, grinned companionably at his +son. "I agree with Scotty. Not only is Rick's driving a remarkable +experience, but it fits the rest of the definition: 'The encountering +of risks; hazardous enterprise.'"</p> + +<p>Jerry Webster rose to Rick's defense. "Oh, I don't know. Rick always +gets there."</p> + +<p>"Sure he does," Scotty agreed. "Of course his passengers always have +nervous breakdowns, but he gets there."</p> + +<p>Rick just grinned. He felt wonderful tonight. When you came right down +to it, there was nothing that matched being at home with the family in +the big house on Spindrift Island. The famous island off the New +Jersey coast was home for the scientific foundation that his father +headed, and for the scientist members. It was home for Scotty, too, +and had been since the day he had rescued Rick from danger, as told in +<i>The Rocket's Shadow</i>. As junior members of the foundation, Rick and +Scotty had been included in a number of experiments and expeditions. +Rick wouldn't have missed a one of them, and if opportunity offered he +would go again with just as much eagerness. But it was nice to return +to familiar surroundings between trips. More than once, during lonely +nights in far places, his thoughts had turned to evenings just like +this one with the family and perhaps a close friend like Jerry +gathered on the porch after dinner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick, Scotty, and Barbara Brant had only recently returned from the +South Pacific where they had vacationed aboard the trawler <i>Tarpon</i> +and had solved the mystery of <i>The Phantom Shark</i>. Barby had gone off +to summer boarding school in Connecticut a few days later. Chahda, the +Hindu boy who had been with the Brants since the Tibetan radar relay +expedition described in <i>The Lost City</i>, had said good-bye to the +group at New Caledonia and had returned to India. The scientists, +Zircon, Weiss, and Gordon, were away doing research.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Rick chuckled. "Speaking of adventure, I'll bet the biggest +adventure Barby had on our whole trip to the Pacific was eating +<i>rosette sauté</i> at the governor's in Noumea."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Jerry asked.</p> + +<p>"Bat," Scotty replied. "A very large kind of fruit bat. Barby thought +it was wonderful until she found out what it was."</p> + +<p>"I should think so!" Mrs. Brant exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It tasted good," Rick said. "Something like chicken livers." He +grinned. "Anyway, I sympathized with Barby. I felt kind of funny +myself when I found out what it was."</p> + +<p>Hartson Brant, an older edition of his athletic son, looked at the boy +reflectively. He knocked ashes from his pipe. "Seems to me you've been +pretty quiet since you got back, Rick. Lost your taste for excitement? +Or are you working on something?"</p> + +<p>"Working," Rick said. "We scientists must never rest. We must labor +always to push back the frontiers of ignorance." He put a hand on his +heart and bowed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> proper dramatic modesty. "I am working on an +invention that will startle the civilized world."</p> + +<p>"We will now bow our heads in reverent silence while the master tells +all," Scotty intoned.</p> + +<p>"I know," Jerry guessed. "You're working on a radar-controlled lawn +mower so you can cut the grass while you sit on the porch."</p> + +<p>"That's too trivial for a junior genius like Rick," Scotty objected. +"He's probably working on a self-energizing hot dog that lathers +itself with mustard, climbs into a bun, and then holds a napkin under +your chin while you eat it."</p> + +<p>"Not a bad idea," Rick said soberly. "But that isn't it."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," Hartson Brant put in. "You see, I happen to know what +it is, due to a little invention of my own—an electronic mind +reader."</p> + +<p>Scotty gulped. "You didn't tell Mom what happened to those two pieces +of butterscotch pie, did you? I wanted her to blame it on Rick."</p> + +<p>Rick asked unbelievingly, "An electronic mind reader? All right, Dad, +what am I working on?"</p> + +<p>"A device to penetrate the darkness."</p> + +<p>Rick stared. His father had scored a hit. He demanded, "How did you +know?"</p> + +<p>"My new invention," Hartson Brant said seriously. "Oh, and one other +clue. Yesterday morning the mail brought me a bill for a thousand feet +of 16-millimeter infrared motion-picture film."</p> + +<p>So that was it. Rick grinned. "I hope your new invention told you I +asked the film company to send the bill to me and not to you."</p> + +<p>"It did. The bill actually was addressed to the Spin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>drift Foundation, +attention Mr. Brant. Since I didn't know which Mr. Brant was meant, I +opened it. Don't worry, Rick. I'll let you pay it."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Dad," Rick said. "But don't make any sacrifices. You can pay +it if you want to."</p> + +<p>"Don't want to," Hartson Brant replied. "I haven't the slightest use +for motion-picture film."</p> + +<p>"Because Rick has the only motion-picture camera on the island," +Scotty finished. He frowned at his friend. "Keeping secrets, huh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure it will work," Rick explained. He hated to brag about an +idea and then have it turn out to be a dud. Consequently, he seldom +mentioned that he was working on anything until he knew it would be +successful.</p> + +<p>"What does the film have to do with penetrating the darkness?" Jerry +Webster inquired.</p> + +<p>Rick caught the look of interest on his father's face. "Ask Dad," he +said. "The electronic mind reader probably has told him all about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course." The scientist chuckled. "Rick is planning to take movies +at night without lights."</p> + +<p>Jerry looked skeptical. "How?"</p> + +<p>Rick stood up. "Long as we've started talking about it, I may as well +show you."</p> + +<p>The others rose, too. As they did so, a shaggy little dog crawled from +under Rick's chair where he had been napping.</p> + +<p>"Dismal and I will put the cake away," Mrs. Brant said.</p> + +<p>At the sound of his name the pup rolled over on his back and played +dead, his only trick. Rick bent and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> scratched his ribs in the way the +pup liked best. "Go with Mom," he commanded. "Come on, the rest of +you. Maybe I can get some free advice from the director of the +Spindrift Foundation."</p> + +<p>Hartson Brant smiled. "If you're looking for a technical consultant, +Rick, my price is very reasonable."</p> + +<p>"It would have to be," Rick admitted ruefully. "I've spent my entire +fortune on this thing."</p> + +<p>"The whole dollar," Scotty added.</p> + +<p>The boys' rooms were on the second floor in the north wing of the big +house. But where Scotty's was usually neat as a barracks squad room, +the result of his service in the Marines, Rick's was usually a clutter +of apparatus. Living on Spindrift Island with the example of his +father and the other scientists to follow, it was natural that he +should be interested in science. He was more fortunate than most boys +with such an interest, because he was permitted to use the laboratory +apparatus freely and his part-time work as a junior technician gave +him spending money with which to buy equipment. Another source of +revenue was his little two-seater plane. He was the island's fast +ferry service to the mainland.</p> + +<p>His room was neater than usual at the moment because he had not +bothered to connect most of his apparatus after returning from the +South Pacific. The induction heater that he used for midnight snacks +was in a closet. His automatic window opener was not in use, nor was +his amateur radio transmitter.</p> + +<p>He opened a workbench built into one wall and brought out a +motion-picture camera. It was a popular make with a type of lens mount +that permitted fast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> switching of lenses. It used one-hundred-foot +rolls of 16-millimeter film. He put the camera on the table, then from +a cupboard he brought out what appeared to be a searchlight mounted on +top of a small telescope.</p> + +<p>"That's a sniperscope!" Scotty exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Rick nodded.</p> + +<p>"No reason why it shouldn't work very well, Rick," Hartson Brant said.</p> + +<p>Jerry Webster sighed. "Excuse my ignorance. What's a sniperscope?"</p> + +<p>"They were used during the last war," Scotty explained. He picked up +the unit and pointed to the light, which was about the size and shape +of a bicycle head lamp. "This searchlight throws a beam of black +light. Rick would call it infrared. Anyway, it's invisible. The +telescope is actually a special telescopic rifle sight which will pick +up infrared. You can use the thing in total darkness. Mount it on a +rifle and then go looking for the enemy. Since he can't see the +infrared, he thinks he's safe. But you can see him through the 'scope +just as though he had a beam of white light on him."</p> + +<p>"I see," Jerry said. "Where are the batteries?"</p> + +<p>Rick brought out a canvas-covered case that looked like a knapsack. It +had a crank on one side and a pair of electrical connections. "It's +not a battery," he explained. "It's a small, spring-driven dynamo."</p> + +<p>Jerry nodded. "I get it now. You rig this thing on the camera, which +is loaded with infrared film. The film registers whatever the infrared +searchlight illuminates. Right?"</p> + +<p>"That's the idea," Hartson Brant agreed. "But it isn't as simple as +that, is it, Rick?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Far from it. I have to determine the effective range, then I have to +run a couple of tests to find out what exposure I have to use, and +then I have to find the field of vision of the telescope as compared +with the field of the lens. A lot depends on the speed of the film +emulsion. That will limit the range. The searchlight is effective at +eight hundred yards, but I'll be lucky if I can get a picture at a +quarter of that."</p> + +<p>"Where did you get the sniperscope?" Scotty wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"By mail. I read an ad in a magazine that advertised a lot of surplus +war equipment, including this."</p> + +<p>"You might have said something about it," Scotty reproached.</p> + +<p>Rick grinned. "You were too busy working on the motorboats. I knew you +couldn't have two things on your mind at once."</p> + +<p>Since the boys returned from vacation, Scotty had been overhauling the +engines on the two motorboats which were used, along with Rick's +plane, for communication with Whiteside, the nearest town on the +mainland.</p> + +<p>"I have a book downstairs that you'll find useful, Rick," Hartson +Brant said. "It gives the comparative data on lenses. It may save you +some figuring."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Dad," Rick replied. "I may have to ask your help in working +out the mathematics, too. Anyway...." He stopped as the phone rang.</p> + +<p>In a moment Mrs. Brant called. "Jerry, it's your paper."</p> + +<p>"Something must have popped!" Jerry ran for the door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick hurried after him, Scotty and the scientist following. The +Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>, for which Jerry worked, must have had +something important come up to phone Jerry on his night off.</p> + +<p>In the library, Jerry picked up the phone. "Webster. Oh, hello, Duke. +Where? Well, why can't one of the other guys cover it? Okay, I'll be +on my way in a minute. How about a photographer? Hold the phone. I'll +ask him." He turned to Rick. "Duke wants to know if you can take your +camera and cover a story with me. A trawler went ashore down at +Seaford."</p> + +<p>Rick nodded quick assent. The little daily paper had only one +photographer, who evidently wasn't available. It wouldn't be the first +time he had taken pictures for Duke Barrows, the paper's editor.</p> + +<p>"He'll do it. We're on our way." Jerry hung up. "Have to work fast," +he said. "We start printing the paper at midnight."</p> + +<p>"It's nine now," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>Rick ran upstairs and opened the case containing his speed graphic, +checking to be sure he had film packs and bulbs, then he snapped the +case shut and hurried downstairs with it. Jerry and Scotty were +waiting at the door.</p> + +<p>"Don't stay out too late," Mrs. Brant admonished.</p> + +<p>Dismal whined to be taken along.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, boy." Rick patted the pup. "We'll be home early, Mom. Want to +come along, Dad?"</p> + +<p>"Not tonight, thanks," the scientist replied. "I'll take advantage of +the quiet to catch up on my reading."</p> + +<p>In a moment the three boys were hurrying toward the hook-shaped cove +in which the motorboats were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> tied up. Although Spindrift Island was +connected to the mainland at low tide by a rocky tidal flat, there was +no way for a car to cross. The cove was reached by a flight of stairs +leading down from the north side of the island. Elsewhere, the island +dropped away in cliffs of varying heights and steepness to the +Atlantic.</p> + +<p>They ran down the stairs and got into the fastest of the two boats, a +slim speedboat built for eight passengers. Rick handed Scotty his +camera case and slid in behind the wheel. While Jerry cast off, he +started the engine and warmed it for a moment. Then as Jerry pushed +the craft away from the pier, he backed out expertly, spun the boat +around, and roared off in the direction of the Whiteside landing.</p> + +<p>"Let's have the story," Scotty shouted above the engine's roar.</p> + +<p>"A fishing trawler from Seaford ran aground," Jerry shouted in reply. +"Duke figures it's an unusual story because those skippers have been +going out of Seaford for a hundred years without an accident. There's +no reason why one of them should run onto well-charted ground in clear +weather."</p> + +<p>Scotty squinted at the sky. "It's not exactly clear weather. There's a +moon just coming up, but it's kind of hazy out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you couldn't call it bad weather, either," Jerry pointed +out. "Not from a seaman's viewpoint, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Where did this trawler run aground?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"Arm of land that extends out into the sea above Seaford," Jerry +replied. "It's called Smugglers' Reef."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h2>Cap'n Mike</h2> + + +<p>Jerry's car was an old sedan that had seen better days, but it could +still cover ground at a good speed. The macadam highway unrolled +before the bright head lamps at a steady rate while the beams +illumined alternate patches of woods and small settlements.</p> + +<p>There were no major towns between Whiteside and Seaford, but there +were a number of summer beach colonies, most of them in an area about +halfway between the two towns. The highway was little used. Most +tourists and all through traffic preferred the main trunk highway +leading southward from Newark. They saw only two other cars during the +short drive.</p> + +<p>Many months had passed since Rick's last visit to Seaford. He had gone +there on a Sunday afternoon to try his hand at surf casting off +Million Dollar Row, a stretch of beach noted for its huge, abandoned +hotels. It was a good place to cast for striped bass during the right +season.</p> + +<p>"Smugglers' Reef," he said aloud. "Funny that a Sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>ford trawler +should go ashore there. It's the best-known reef on the coast."</p> + +<p>"Maybe the skipper was a greenhorn," Scotty remarked.</p> + +<p>"Not likely," Jerry said. "In Seaford the custom is to pass fishing +ships down from father to son. There hasn't been a new fishing family +there for the past half century."</p> + +<p>"You seem to know a lot about the place," Rick remarked.</p> + +<p>"I go down pretty often. Fish makes news in this part of the country."</p> + +<p>Scotty pointed to a sign as they sped over a wooden bridge. "Salt +Creek."</p> + +<p>Rick remembered. Salt Creek emptied into the sea on the north side of +Smugglers' Reef. It was called Salt Creek because the tide backed up +into it beyond the bridge they had just crossed. He had caught crabs +just above the bridge. But between the road and the sea there was over +a quarter mile of tidal swamp, filled with rushes and salt-marsh +grasses through which the creek ran. At the edge of the swamp where +Salt Creek met Smugglers' Reef stood the old Creek House, once a +leading hotel, now an abandoned relic.</p> + +<p>A short distance farther on, a road turned off to the left. A +weathered sign pointed toward Seaford. In a few moments the first +houses came into view. They were small, and well kept for the most +part. Then the sedan rolled into the town itself, down the single +business street which led to the fish piers.</p> + +<p>A crowd waited in front of the red-brick town hall. Jerry swung into +the curb. "Let's see what's going on."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick got his camera from the case, inserted a film pack, and stuffed a +few flash bulbs into his pocket. Then he hurried up the steps of City +Hall after Jerry and Scotty. Men, a number of them with the weathered +faces of professional fishermen, were talking in low tones. A few +looked at the boys with curiosity.</p> + +<p>An old man with white hair and a strong, lined face was seated by the +door, whittling on an elm twig. Jerry spoke to him.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what's going on?"</p> + +<p>Keen eyes took in the three boys. "I can. Any reason why I should?" +The old man's voice held the twang peculiar to that part of the New +Jersey coast.</p> + +<p>"I'm a reporter," Jerry said. "Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>."</p> + +<p>The old man spat into the shrubbery. "Going to put in your paper that +Tom Tyler ran aground on Smugglers' Reef, hey? Well, you can put it +in, boy, because it's true. But don't make the mistake of calling Tom +Tyler a fool, a drunkard, or a poor seaman, because he ain't any of +those things."</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?" Jerry asked.</p> + +<p>"Reckon you better ask Tom Tyler."</p> + +<p>"I will," Jerry said. "Where will I find him?"</p> + +<p>"Inside. Surrounded by fools."</p> + +<p>Jerry pushed through the door, Rick and Scotty following. Rick's quick +glance took in the people waiting in the corridor, then shifted to a +young woman and a little girl. The woman's face was strained and +white, and she stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes. The little +girl, a tiny blonde perhaps four years old, held tightly to her +mother's hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick had a hunch. He stopped as Jerry and Scotty hurried down the +corridor to where voices were loud through an open door. "Mrs. Tyler?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>The woman's head lifted sharply. Her eyes went dark with fear. "I +can't tell you anything," she said in a rush. "I don't know anything." +She dropped her head again and her hand tightened convulsively on the +little girl's.</p> + +<p>"Sorry," Rick said gently. He moved along the corridor, very +thoughtful, and saw that Jerry and Scotty were turning into the room +from which voices came. Mrs. Tyler might have been angry, upset, +tearful, despondent, or defiant over the loss of her husband's +trawler. Instead, she had been afraid in a situation that did not +appear to call for fear.</p> + +<p>He turned into the room. There were about a dozen men in it. Two were +Coast Guardsmen, one a lieutenant and the other a chief petty officer. +Two others were state highway patrolmen. Another, in a blue uniform, +was evidently the local policeman. The rest were in civilian clothes. +All of them were watching a lean, youthful man who sat ramrod straight +in a chair.</p> + +<p>A stocky man in a brown suit said impatiently, "There's more to it +than that, Tom. Man, you've spent thirty years off Smugglers'. You'd +no more crack up on it than I'd fall over my own front porch."</p> + +<p>"I told you how it was," the fisherman said tonelessly.</p> + +<p>Rick searched his face and liked it. Tom Tyler was perhaps forty, but +he looked ten years younger. His face was burned from wind and sun, +but it was not yet heavily lined. His eyes, gray in color, were clear +and direct as he faced his questioners. He was a tall man; that was +apparent even when he was seated. He had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> lean, trim look that +reminded Rick of a clean, seaworthy schooner.</p> + +<p>The boy lifted his camera and took a picture. The group turned briefly +as the flash bulb went off. They glared, then turned back to the +fisherman again.</p> + +<p>The town policeman spoke. "You know what this means, Tom? You not only +lost your ship, but you're apt to lose your license, too. And you'll +be lucky if the insurance company doesn't charge you with barratry."</p> + +<p>"I've told you how it was," Captain Tyler repeated.</p> + +<p>The man in the brown suit exploded. "Stop being a dadblasted fool, +Tom! You expect us to swallow a yarn like that? We know you don't +drink. How can you expect us to believe you ran the <i>Sea Belle</i> ashore +while drunk?"</p> + +<p>"I got no more to say," Tyler replied woodenly.</p> + +<p>Jerry turned to Rick and Scotty and motioned toward the door. Rick led +the way back into the corridor. "Getting anything out of this?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"A little," Jerry said. "Let's go out and talk to that old man."</p> + +<p>"Lead on," Scotty said. "I've always wanted to see a real news hound +in action."</p> + +<p>Rick dropped the used flash bulb into a convenient ash tray, replaced +it with a new one, and reset the camera. At least he had one good +picture. Tom Tyler, framed by his questioners, had looked somehow like +a thoroughbred animal at bay.</p> + +<p>Outside the door, the old man was still whittling. "Get a real scoop, +sonny?" he asked Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Sure did," Jerry returned. He leaned against the doorjamb. "I didn't +get your name."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Didn't give it."</p> + +<p>"Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I ain't ashamed. I'm Captain Michael Aloysius Kevin O'Shannon. +Call me Cap'n Mike."</p> + +<p>"All right, Cap'n Mike. Is it true Captain Tyler stands to lose his +master's license and may be even charged with deliberately wrecking +the ship?"</p> + +<p>"It's true.</p> + +<p>"He says he was drunk."</p> + +<p>"He wasn't."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I know Tom Tyler."</p> + +<p>"Then how did it happen?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike rose and clicked his jackknife shut. He tossed away the elm +twig. "You got a car?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Let's take a ride. You'll want to see the wreck, and I do, too. We +can talk on the way."</p> + +<p>The boys accepted with alacrity. Rick and Scotty sat in the back seat; +the captain rode up front with Jerry. At the old man's direction, +Jerry drove to the water front and then turned left.</p> + +<p>"I'll start at the beginning," Cap'n Mike said. "I've had experience +with reporters in my day. Best to tell 'em everything, otherwise they +start leaping at conclusions and get everything backwards. Can't +credit a reporter with too many brains."</p> + +<p>"You're right there," Jerry said amiably.</p> + +<p>Rick grinned. He had seen Jerry in operation before. The young +reporter didn't mind any kind of insult if there were a story in the +offing. Rick guessed the newspaper trade wasn't a place for thin +skins.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, here're the facts," the captain continued. "Tom Tyler, master +and owner of the <i>Sea Belle</i>, was coming back from a day's run. He'd +had a good day. The trawler was practically awash with a load of +menhaden. In case you don't know, menhaden are fish. Not eating fish, +but commercial. They get oil and chicken and cattle feed from 'em, and +the trawlers out of this port collect 'em by the millions of tons +every year."</p> + +<p>"We know," Jerry said.</p> + +<p>"Uhuh. As I said, the trawler was full up with menhaden. Tom was at +the wheel himself. The rest of the crew, five of them, was making +snug. There was a little weather making up, but not much, and not +enough to interfere with Tom seeing the light at the tip of Smugglers' +Reef. He saw it clear. Admits it. Now! All you need do is give the +light a few fathoms clearance to starboard. But Tom Tyler didn't. And +what happened?"</p> + +<p>"He ran smack onto the reef," Scotty put in.</p> + +<p>"He surely did. The crew, all of 'em being aft, didn't see a thing. +First they knew they were flying through the air like a bunch of +hooked mackerel and banging into the net gear. One broken arm and a +lot of cuts and bruises among 'em. The trawler tore her bottom out and +rested high and dry, scattering fish like a fertilizer spreader. Tom +Tyler said he took one drink and it went to his head."</p> + +<p>The old man snorted. "Bilge! Sheer bilge! He said hitting the reef +sobered him up."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it did," Jerry ventured.</p> + +<p>"Hogwash. There wasn't a mite of drink on his breath. And what did he +drink? There ain't nothing could make an old hand like Tom forget +where a light was supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> to be. No, the whole thing is fishy as a +bin of herring."</p> + +<p>The boys were silent for a moment after the recital, then Rick blurted +out the question in his mind. "What's his wife afraid of?"</p> + +<p>The captain stiffened. "Who says she's afraid?"</p> + +<p>"I do," Rick returned positively. "I saw her."</p> + +<p>"You did? Well, I reckon you saw right."</p> + +<p>"Maybe she's afraid of Tyler's losing his way of making a living," +Scotty guessed.</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "It wasn't that kind of fear."</p> + +<p>The sedan had left the town proper and was rolling along the sea front +on a wide highway. This was Million Dollar Row. In a moment Rick saw +the first of the huge hotels that had given the road its name. It was +called Sandy Shores. Once it had been landscaped, and probably +beautiful. Now, he saw in the dim moonlight, the windows were +shuttered and the grounds had gone back to bunch grass. The paint had +peeled in the salt air and there was an air of decay and loneliness +around the dark old place.</p> + +<p>Extending up the drive were the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, Shore +Mansions, and finally, the Creek House. All were in similar condition. +These hotels had been built in the booming twenties when the +traditional sleepiness of Seaford had been disturbed by a rush of +tourists. Then had come the business depression of the thirties and +the tourists had stopped coming. They had never started again. The +hotels, too expensive to operate and useless as anything but hotels, +had been left to rot. Briefly, during World War II, they had served as +barracks for a Coast Guard shore patrol base, but that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> activity was +long past now, and they had been left to decay once more.</p> + +<p>There were a number of cars on the road, going both ways. Captain Mike +remarked on the fact. "They're curious about the wreck. Usually not a +car moves on this road."</p> + +<p>As they approached Smugglers' Reef, the cars got thicker. Then Rick +saw lights in the massive Creek House. It was one of the biggest of +the hotels, and it had been the most exclusive. It had its own dock on +Salt Creek, and it was protected from prying eyes by a high board +fence. Two rooms on the second floor were lit up.</p> + +<p>"It's occupied," Cap'n Mike affirmed. "Family name of Kelso is renting +it. Claim they need the salt air and water for their boy. He's +ailing."</p> + +<p>"Must be a big family," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they don't use all of it. Just a couple of bedrooms and the +kitchen. No one knows much about 'em and they don't seem to work at +anything. City folks. Keep to themselves."</p> + +<p>Rick guessed from the note of irritation in Cap'n Mike's voice that he +resented the Kelsos' evident desire for privacy. Probably he had tried +to satisfy his curiosity about them and had been rebuffed.</p> + +<p>Jerry pulled up in front of the hotel and stopped the car. The boys +piled out, anxious for a glimpse of the trawler. Rick crossed the road +and looked out to sea.</p> + +<p>Smugglers' Reef was a gradually narrowing arm of land that extended +over a quarter mile out into the sea. In front of the hotel it was +perhaps two hundred yards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> wide. Then it narrowed gradually until it +was little more than a wall of piled boulders. On its north side, Salt +Creek emptied into the sea. Beyond the creek was the marsh with its +high grasses.</p> + +<p>At the far tip of the reef, a light blinked intermittently. That was +the light Tyler had failed to keep on his starboard beam. A few +hundred feet this side of it was a moving cluster of flashlights. It +was too dark to make out details, but Rick guessed the lights were at +the wrecked trawler.</p> + +<p>"Got your camera?" Jerry asked.</p> + +<p>Rick held it up.</p> + +<p>"Then let's go. Time is getting short and I have to get the story +back."</p> + +<p>With Cap'n Mike leading the way, surprisingly light on his feet for +his age, the boys made their way out along the reef. A short distance +before they reached the wreck they passed a rusted steel framework.</p> + +<p>"Used to be a light tower," Cap'n Mike explained briefly. "They put up +the new light on the point a few years back and put in an automatic +system. This light had to be tended."</p> + +<p>At the wreck they found almost two dozen people. Flashlights picked +out the trawler. It had driven with force right up on the reef, +ripping out the bottom and dumping thousands of dead menhaden into the +water. They lay in clusters around the wreck, floating on the water in +silvery shoals. The air was heavy with the reek of fish and spilled +Diesel fuel.</p> + +<p>There was little conversation among those who had come to visit the +wreck. When they did talk, it was in low tones. Rick thought that was +strange, because any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>thing like this was usually a field day for +self-appointed experts who discussed it in loud tones and offered +opinions to all who would listen. Then, as he lifted his camera for a +picture, he saw the men look up, startled at the flash. He saw them +turn their backs quickly so their faces would not be seen if he were +to take another picture.</p> + +<p>He sensed tension in the air, and his lively curiosity quickened. This +was no ordinary wreck. Something about it had brought fear. Or was it +that the fear had brought the wreck?</p> + +<p>"Let's go," Jerry said. "Got a deadline to make."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Rick lay awake and stared through the window at the darkness. Jerry +had the pictures and story and there seemed to be nothing else to do +except to cover the hearing that would follow. The results were a +foregone conclusion. Trawler skipper admits he ran ship aground while +drunk. Case closed.</p> + +<p>Again Rick saw the fear written on Mrs. Tyler's face. Again he sensed +the tension among the men who gathered at the wreck. And he believed +Cap'n Mike had left some things unsaid in spite of his apparent +frankness.</p> + +<p>"Scotty?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>Scotty's voice came low through the connecting door. "I'm asleep."</p> + +<p>"Same here. Let's go fishing tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"Okay. I know where the blackfish will be running."</p> + +<p>"Do you? Where?"</p> + +<p>Rick grinned sleepily as Scotty's whisper came back.</p> + +<p>"Off Smugglers' Reef."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h2>The Redheaded Kelsos</h2> + + +<p>The Spindrift motor launch rolled gently in the offshore swell as the +New Jersey coast slid by off the starboard beam. Behind the wheel, +Rick steered easily, following the shore line. In the aft cockpit, +Scotty prepared hand lines for the fishing they planned to do to keep +up appearances.</p> + +<p>Their decision to revisit Smugglers' Reef had been made on the spur of +the moment. The case of the wrecked trawler was none of their +business, and Rick had learned in the past that it was a good idea to +keep his nose out of things that didn't concern him. But he could no +more resist a mystery than he could resist a piece of Mrs. Brant's +best chocolate cake. He watched the shore line as the launch sped +along and tried to assure himself that a little look around wasn't +really sticking his nose into the case. After all, it wouldn't hurt to +satisfy his curiosity, would it?</p> + +<p>Scotty came forward and joined him. "All set. We ought to find some +fish right off the tip of the reef. If you intend to do any fishing, +that is."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course we'll fish," Rick said. "What else did we come here for?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Scotty agreed. "This is a fishing expedition in the truest +sense of the word."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at his pal suspiciously. "What was behind that remark?"</p> + +<p>Scotty chuckled. "Are you fooling yourself? Or are you trying to fool +me?"</p> + +<p>Rick had to laugh, too. "Okay. Let's admit it. We're so used to +excitement that we have to go fishing for it if none comes our way. +But seriously, Scotty, this is none of our business. The local +officials can handle it without any help from us. So let's not get too +involved."</p> + +<p>Scotty leaned back against the seat and grinned lazily. "Think you can +take your own advice?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," Rick said, with his fingers crossed.</p> + +<p>Scotty pointed to a low line ahead. "There's the reef. See the light +on the tip?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't very well miss it," Rick said. The light was painted with +red and white stripes and it stood out sharply against the sky. He +gave Scotty a side glance. "What did you make out of all that talk +last night? Think Captain Tyler ran on the reef purposely?"</p> + +<p>Scotty shook his head. "He didn't strike me as a thief, and that's +what he'd have to be to wreck his trawler on purpose."</p> + +<p>"I liked his looks, too. Then Cap'n Mike said he didn't drink, so his +statement that he was under the influence of liquor wouldn't hold +water, either. What's the answer?"</p> + +<p>"If we knew, would we be here?" Scotty waved at the shore. "How far +does this stuff extend?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>The water ended in an almost solid wall of rushes and salt-marsh +growth that would be far above even a tall man's head if he stood at +sea level. Now and then a small inlet appeared where the water flowed +too rapidly for plant life to grow.</p> + +<p>"There's about a mile of the stuff," Rick said. "It stops at the reef. +I'm not sure how wide it is, but I'd guess it averages a quarter of a +mile. It's called Brendan's Marsh, after an old man who got lost in it +once. It was over a week before he was found."</p> + +<p>They were approaching the reef at a good clip.</p> + +<p>"What do we do first?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>Rick shrugged. He had no plan of action. "Guess we just sort of wander +around and wait for a bright idea to hit us."</p> + +<p>"Lot of other people with the same idea, I guess." Scotty nodded +toward the reef.</p> + +<p>Rick saw a number of figures moving around the wreck of the trawler. +"Wonder who they are?"</p> + +<p>"Probably a lot of folks who are just curious—like two in this boat. +And I wouldn't be surprised if the law was doing a little looking +around by daylight, too."</p> + +<p>"We'll soon see." Rick turned the launch inshore as they approached +the reef. "Let's tie up at the Creek House dock. Then we can walk down +the reef and join the rest."</p> + +<p>"Suits me."</p> + +<p>Rick rounded the corner of the salt marsh and steered the launch into +the creek, reducing speed as he did so. On their right, the marsh +stretched inland along the sluggish creek bank. On their left, the +high old bulk of the Creek House rose from a yard that was strewn +with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> rubble and years' accumulation of weeds and litter. A hundred +yards up the creek was the gray, rickety piling of the hotel dock.</p> + +<p>"That's it," Rick said.</p> + +<p>Scotty went up to the bow and took the bow line, ready to drop it over +a piling.</p> + +<p>Rick started a wide turn that would bring him into the dock, then cut +the engine. The launch slowed as it lost momentum and drifted into +place perfectly.</p> + +<p>"Hey! Get out of there!"</p> + +<p>Both boys looked up.</p> + +<p>Coming from the hotel's side door on a dead run was a stocky youth of +about their own age. He was between Rick and Scotty in height, and he +had hair the color of a ripe carrot. Swinging from one hand was a +rifle.</p> + +<p>"Is that hair real or has he got a wig on?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"It's real," Rick returned. His forehead creased. The dock had never +been considered private property—at least not since the hotel was +abandoned. He waited to see what the redhead wanted.</p> + +<p>The boy ran down the loose wooden surface toward them, his face red +and angry. "Get that boat out of here!"</p> + +<p>Rick looked into a pair of furious eyes the color of seaweed, set +above a wide nose and thin mouth.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"This is private property. Cast off."</p> + +<p>"Where's your sign?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>The boy grinned unpleasantly. "Don't need a sign." He patted the stock +of his rifle. "Got this."</p> + +<p>"Plan to use it?" Scotty asked calmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If I have to. Now cast off those lines and get out."</p> + +<p>Rick's temper began to fray a little. "You're using the wrong tone of +voice," he said gently. "You should say 'I'm terribly sorry, fellows, +but this is private property. Do you mind tying up somewhere else?' +Ask us nicely like that and we'll do it."</p> + +<p>The redhead half lifted the rifle. "Wise guy, huh? I warned you. Now +cast off those lines and get out." He dropped his hand to the lever of +the rifle as though to pump a cartridge into place.</p> + +<p>Scotty tensed. He said softly, "Get gay with that rifle and I'll climb +up there and feed it to you breech first."</p> + +<p>Rick saw the color rise to the boy's face and the muscles in his +throat tighten. "Easy, Scotty," he said warningly. He knew, as Scotty +did, that no normal person would wave a rifle at anyone for mere +daytime accidental trespassing, but he had a hunch the young +carrot-top would not react normally.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy!"</p> + +<p>The three of them looked to the hotel as the hail came. A big man with +red hair several shades darker than the boy's was waving from the side +door of the Creek House. He walked toward them rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Okay, Pop," Carrottop called. "I told 'em to get out."</p> + +<p>As the man approached, Rick saw that there was a strong resemblance +between the man and the boy. Evidently they were father and son. The +man had the same thin lips, the same seaweed-green eyes. His face was +almost square. It was a tough face, Rick thought.</p> + +<p>The newcomer looked at his son and jerked his thumb toward the hotel. +"Okay, Jimmy, get into the house."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy turned and walked off without a word.</p> + +<p>The man surveyed Rick and Scotty briefly. "Don't mind Jimmy. He was +probably rude, and I'm sorry for it. But this is private property and +I can't allow you to tie up here." He motioned to the high board fence +along the front of the hotel. The fence ran down to the edge of the +creek. "Anywhere this side of the fence is private."</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. "It didn't use to be. That's why we tied up here. I'm +sorry, Mr...."</p> + +<p>"Kelso. I rented the place a few weeks ago. Haven't had time to get +signs up yet."</p> + +<p>"We'll shove off right away, Mr. Kelso. Sorry we intruded."</p> + +<p>"Okay."</p> + +<p>Rick started the engine, threw the launch into reverse, and backed +out.</p> + +<p>Scotty sat down beside him. "How about that?"</p> + +<p>"Funny," Rick said. "Didn't Cap'n Mike say a family named Kelso had +taken the hotel because their little boy was sick and needed fresh +air?"</p> + +<p>"That's what he said," Scotty affirmed. "Do you suppose that was the +sick little boy?"</p> + +<p>"If he's sick," Rick said grimly, "it's trigger fever. I think he'd +like to take a shot at someone."</p> + +<p>"It would sure be an effective way of discouraging trespassers. Why do +you suppose they crave privacy so much?"</p> + +<p>"Beats me," Rick said. "We'll have to ask Cap'n Mike."</p> + +<p>The launch passed the edge of the Creek House fence and came to a +strip of sandy beach. The road ended a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> few feet from the beach. A +number of cars were parked in the area, and along Smugglers' Reef were +the occupants, most of them standing around the wreck.</p> + +<p>"I'll run the launch in as far as I can," Risk directed, "then you +jump ashore with the anchor."</p> + +<p>"Okay." Scotty went forward and took the small anchor from its +lashings, making sure he had plenty of line. As Rick pushed the bow of +the launch into shallow water until it grated on the sand, Scotty +jumped across the six feet of open water to the beach.</p> + +<p>Rick took the keys from the ignition and joined him. Together they +pulled the launch in a foot or two more, then dug the anchor into the +sand. It would hold until the tide changed.</p> + +<p>"Let's go look at the wreck," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. "Afterward, I think we'd better go look up Cap'n Mike. I +have some questions I want to ask him."</p> + +<p>"About what?"</p> + +<p>"Something he said last night. And about the Kelsos."</p> + +<p>They reached the old light tower and paused to examine it. Salt air +had etched the steel of the frame badly. The tower was almost forty +feet high, about twice as tall as the present light. At its top had +been a wooden platform where the lightkeeper had once stood to care +for the light. A rusty metal ladder led up one side of the tower to +where the platform had been.</p> + +<p>Rick wondered why the authorities had abandoned the tower in favor of +the smaller light at the very tip of the reef and decided it probably +was because having the warning signal at the very point was more +practical. That way, a ship needed only to clear the light without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +worrying about how far away from the light it had to pass.</p> + +<p>"Let's go," Scotty said. "Nothing interesting about this relic."</p> + +<p>They joined the group of men at the wreck of the <i>Sea Belle</i> and saw +that the wreck was being inspected, probably by the insurance people. +A question to one of the watchers affirmed the guess. Rick asked, +"What do they expect to find?"</p> + +<p>"Search me."</p> + +<p>Scotty nudged Rick. "We won't have to look far for Cap'n Mike. There +he is."</p> + +<p>The old man was seated on a rock, whittling at a twig. Seemingly, he +paid no attention to anything going on. Now and then he looked out to +sea, but mostly he paid attention to his whittling.</p> + +<p>Rick walked over, Scotty behind him. "Good morning, Cap'n Mike."</p> + +<p>"'Morning, boys."</p> + +<p>"Remember us?"</p> + +<p>"Sure do. Where's the reporter?"</p> + +<p>"He's not with us. We came down to do a little fishing."</p> + +<p>Bright eyes twinkled at them. "Fishing, eh? What kind?"</p> + +<p>"We thought we might get some blackfish at the end of the reef," +Scotty replied.</p> + +<p>"You might at that," Cap'n Mike said. "You might gets crabs off the +end of the Creek House pier, too, if Red Kelso would let you try. Did +you ask him?"</p> + +<p>Rick grinned. Cap'n Mike might not seem to be paying attention, but +evidently he didn't miss much.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We didn't ask him," he said. "Maybe we didn't even see him." He knew +Cap'n Mike could have seen the boat vanish upcreek and return, but he +wouldn't have been able to see past the fence.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you didn't," the old captain conceded. "But you sure saw +somebody, and it had to be Kelso or that boy of his."</p> + +<p>"Why do they want so much privacy?" Scotty demanded.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike ignored the question. "You really got any fishing gear in +that launch?"</p> + +<p>"Hand lines," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"That's good as anything. Now, I always say a man can't think proper +in a mob like this. Too distracting. So let's go fishing and do some +thinking. What say?"</p> + +<p>Rick's glance met Scotty's. Cap'n Mike had his own way of doing +things. They had nothing to lose by humoring him.</p> + +<p>"Let's go," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>As they passed the wreck, Rick stopped for a moment to look at it +again. The air was even heavier than the night before with the reek of +dead fish. They were scattered along the reef in shoals ten feet wide. +By daylight he could see that the trawler was finished. She had broken +her back and torn out a good part of her bottom. She must have been +really making knots to hit like that.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n, exactly what was the weather like when Tom Tyler hit?" Rick +asked.</p> + +<p>"Not bad. Visibility might have been less than real perfect, but it +wouldn't have interfered with him seeing the light."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Would it have interfered with him seeing the reef if the light had +been out?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon it would. Until he was right on it, anyway."</p> + +<p>Rick turned the information over in his mind. "Were any other trawlers +out last night?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty. The <i>Sea Belle</i> was first in, but the rest were right behind. +The light was burning, all right. I thought of that, too, son."</p> + +<p>"My name is Rick Brant. This is Don Scott. We call him Scotty."</p> + +<p>"Knew you both," Cap'n Mike said. "I subscribe to the paper your +friend writes for. Seen your pictures couple of times. Didn't you just +get back from somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"The South Pacific," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Used to sail those waters. Reckon things have changed some."</p> + +<p>"The war changed the islands," Scotty told him. "Especially...." he +stopped suddenly and took Rick's arm. "Look."</p> + +<p>The elder Kelso was standing in front of the launch.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose he's after?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>Before Scotty or Cap'n Mike could think up an answer, Kelso turned and +walked back along the beach. There was a foot or two of space between +the water of the creek and the hotel fence. The redheaded man slipped +through it and vanished from sight.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet he came out just to look the boat over," Scotty guessed, +"and there's only one reason I can think of why he'd do that. He +wanted to see if he could find out more about us."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Unless he admired the launch and wanted a closer look at it," Rick +added.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike snorted. "Red Kelso's got no eye for beauty, in boats, +anyway."</p> + +<p>"Then my guess must have been right," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Right or wrong," Cap'n Mike retorted, "I can't say's I like it. I +wish you boys had talked to me before you decided to invade Salt +Creek!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h2>A Warning</h2> + + +<p>Cap'n Mike tested his line, then gave a sharp tug. He hauled rapidly +and lifted a three-pound blackfish into the boat.</p> + +<p>"Practically a minnow," he said.</p> + +<p>"Did we come out here to fish or to talk?" Rick asked. They were +anchored a few hundred yards off the reef tip and had been for almost +an hour. In that time Cap'n Mike had made a good haul of four blacks, +one flounder and a porgy. Rick and Scotty had caught two blacks +apiece.</p> + +<p>There was a definite twinkle in Cap'n Mike's eyes. "Came to talk," he +said. "But the fish are biting too good. Better fish while the +fishing's good. Time enough to talk later."</p> + +<p>"Time enough for fishing later, you mean," Rick retorted. "Hauling in +blackfish isn't going to find out why the <i>Sea Belle</i> was wrecked."</p> + +<p>"Got the answer to that already," Cap'n Mike said.</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty stared. "You have?" Rick asked incredulously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stands to reason. Didn't you tell me you knew Mrs. Tyler was scared?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what...."</p> + +<p>"Well, Tom is scared, too. He wasn't, until the <i>Sea Belle</i> was +wrecked, but he sure is now. That's why he's sticking to that story of +his instead of telling the truth."</p> + +<p>"What is the truth?" Scotty demanded.</p> + +<p>"Don't know that. Yet. Reckon I'll find out, though. Only I'll need +some help."</p> + +<p>Keen eyes surveyed the two boys.</p> + +<p>Rick worked his hand line absently. "You mean you want us to help?"</p> + +<p>"Seems I've read about you boys solving a mystery or two, haven't I?"</p> + +<p>"We've had a couple of lucky breaks," Scotty said. "We're not real +detectives."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike tried his line and muttered, "Feels like a cunner is +stealing my bait. Well, boys, I wouldn't be surprised none if a little +luck like yours is what we need. Can't pretend, though, that you might +not be walking right into something you wouldn't like. Anything that +scares Tom Tyler is something anyone with sense would be afraid of."</p> + +<p>Rick hauled in his line and saw that his bait was gone. He rebaited, +his mind on what he already knew of the case. "I've been wanting to +ask you," he said. "That answer you gave to Jerry when he asked where +Tom Tyler was. You said 'Inside. Surrounded by fools.' What did you +mean?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike sniffed. "Just what I said. If the constable and the rest +hadn't been fools they would have known<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> that Tom Tyler was afraid to +talk. Just like plenty of others are afraid."</p> + +<p>Rick picked up his ears. "Others? Cap'n, I think you know a few things +you haven't told us."</p> + +<p>The old seaman hauled in his line and grunted when he saw that his +bait had been stolen. "Reckon we got too many bait stealers down below +now. Either of you boys hungry?"</p> + +<p>"I am," Scotty said promptly.</p> + +<p>"I could eat," Rick admitted. He looked at his watch. It was almost +noon.</p> + +<p>"Then let's haul anchor and get out of here."</p> + +<p>In a moment the hand lines were wound on driers and the anchor stowed. +At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pointed the launch to the south, +toward the town. The old man took out his pocketknife, whetted it +briefly on the sole of his shoe, and commenced to clean and fillet the +fish they had caught. Scotty slipped into the seat beside Rick.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about trying to solve this one?"</p> + +<p>Rick shrugged. There was nothing he enjoyed as much as a mystery, but +he wanted more information from Captain Michael O'Shannon before he +agreed to anything. He had suspected that the old seaman knew more +than he was saying. "We'll wait and see what develops," he said. "Okay +with you?"</p> + +<p>"Suits me," Scotty agreed.</p> + +<p>The launch sped past Million Dollar Row, leaving behind a string of +fishy waste as Cap'n Mike went on with his cleaning. By the time they +were even with the town he had a handsome stack of white boneless +fillets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> all ready for the pan. He brought them forward and took a +seat next to Scotty. "Guess these'll taste mighty good. Got a little +fresh bread and plenty of butter to go with 'em."</p> + +<p>Rick pointed to a large barnlike structure on the biggest pier in +front of the town. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Fish market. That's where most of the trawlers load and unload. It's +quiet now, because the fleet is out, but after dark when they come in, +and early in the morning before they leave—that's the busiest place +in these parts. I'll take you down there one of these times. Might be +we'll find a couple of answers there."</p> + +<p>He pointed to an old windmill on the shore just below the town. "Steer +for that."</p> + +<p>"Do you live there?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"I live in a shack behind it. But there's a place to tie up. You'll +see it in a minute."</p> + +<p>As the captain had said, there was a small dock in front of the +windmill. Rick headed the launch for it and in a short time they were +tied up. Behind the mill, which was an old ruin that had been used a +half century before for grinding meal, was the road leading south from +Seaford. Across the road was a weather-beaten fisherman's shack.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike pushed the door open. "It ain't no palace," he said, "but +it's home and I'm proud to welcome you. Come on in."</p> + +<p>Inside, Rick stared around him with appreciative surprise. The little +shanty was as neat and efficient as a ship's cabin. On one side was a +tiny galley with everything neatly stowed. On the other was a built-in +bunk. The walls had been papered with old charts, and he saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> that +most of them were of the New York-New Jersey area. A ship's lantern, +wired for electricity, hung so low that it almost brushed Scotty's +head. Ship models lined the mantel.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike was already at work in the galley. With no waste motion he +produced a coffeepot, filled it with water, dumped in a handful of +coffee and put it on the stove. He whisked a match across the seat of +his pants and lit the kerosene. Then he produced a paper bag, shook in +flour, salt and pepper, dumped in the fish and closed the bag, shaking +it violently a few times with one hand while he produced a frying pan +with the other. In a moment the pan was full of frying fish. A +breadbox yielded a loaf of homemade bread.</p> + +<p>Before Rick and Scotty quite realized that lunch was ready, he had +them seated at a table that folded down from the wall, with a smoking +platter of fillets in front of them.</p> + +<p>"Eat," he commanded.</p> + +<p>Rick was no fish fancier, but he had to admit that this was delicious. +And the coffee, in spite of the apparent carelessness with which it +had been made, was the best ever.</p> + +<p>When the last drop had been consumed, Cap'n Mike pushed back his +chair. "Let's get down to brass tacks," he said. "Do you go along with +me or not?"</p> + +<p>Rick dropped into the idiom of the sea. "I like to know the course +before I haul anchor."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike chuckled. "Didn't expect caution or wisdom from you."</p> + +<p>Scotty grinned. "Don't worry. He's neither cautious nor wise. He can't +wait to get started and neither can I.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> But Rick's right. We have to +know the whole story."</p> + +<p>"Right. Well, there isn't much. Something's been going on in Seaford. +Don't ask me what, because I don't know. I think Tom Tyler does, and I +think his finding out is what led to the wreck of the <i>Sea Belle</i>." He +held up his hand as Rick's lips framed a question. "You're going to +ask me how I know that. Well, I don't know it. I just suspect it. I +was a mite too positive when I said I knew. All I know is Tom Tyler +told me one day that he had an idea that something strange was going +on at the Creek House, and that he intended to find out what it was. +Now! He must have had a good idea that whatever was going on was +crooked, because Tom isn't the kind of man to pry into folks' business +without a good purpose."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he found out?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"I do. I think he found out four nights ago. I was sitting in my dory +jigging for eels a little distance down from the Creek House fence +right at the mouth of Salt Creek. I saw Tom. He didn't know I saw him. +He came around the corner of the fence and for a minute he was +silhouetted against a light. I didn't see his face, but I'm sure. +Known him since he was a shaver. Next morning I bumped into him at the +pier, getting ready to go out on the <i>Sea Belle</i>. He said to see him +at his house that night, because he had something to talk to me about. +Well, I saw him that night, but not at his house. He was sitting at a +corner table in Sam's Lobster House, and can you guess who was with +him?"</p> + +<p>"Red Kelso?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike nodded at Rick. "It was Kelso. He was doing the talking, +too, and from the expression on Tom's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> face, he wasn't saying anything +Tom liked a whole lot. After a while he left, and I went over to Tom. +I asked casual-like what it was he wanted to talk with me about and he +froze up like a clam. He was scared, at first. Then he seemed to get +sort of mad, too, because he said, 'I'm going to call his bluff. Wait +and see.'"</p> + +<p>"Meaning Kelso," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"I reckon, but Tom wouldn't talk. He said it was better that I didn't +know what he was talking about. He got up and left and I didn't see +him again until last night at City Hall after he wrecked the <i>Sea +Belle</i>."</p> + +<p>Rick thought it over. The logical deduction was that Tom Tyler had +somehow gotten suspicious of the Kelsos and what they were doing at +Creek House and had gone spying. Kelso had found out Tyler had spied +on him and had warned him, although Rick couldn't imagine what club he +had held over Tyler's head. Tyler had ignored the warning and somehow +Kelso had contrived to wreck the trawler. But how?</p> + +<p>"Was the regular crew aboard the <i>Sea Belle</i>?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Just the regulars. All good men who've sailed with Tom Tyler for +more'n ten years."</p> + +<p>"You said Mrs. Tyler was afraid, too," Scotty remembered.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike shrugged. "Probably Tom talked the whole thing over with +her."</p> + +<p>There had been an air of tension at the wreck last night, Rick +thought. Maybe other fishermen were in it, too. He put the question to +Cap'n Mike.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," the old man said. "The whole town knows +something's up. They know Tom Tyler doesn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> wince at shadows. If he's +afraid, and they know he is, he's got reasons. That makes 'em all +uneasy. But there is one gang that I'm sure is mixed up in this, and +that's the bunch on the <i>Albatross</i>. She's a fishing craft just like +Tom's, only her skipper isn't much like Tom. Name's Brad Marbek."</p> + +<p>Rick stretched his legs. "Why do you think he and his crew are mixed +up in it?"</p> + +<p>"Eel fishing is a good business for them as wants information," Cap'n +Mike said.</p> + +<p>Rick hid a smile. The old seaman was bursting with curiosity about the +Creek House and its new inhabitants. He had a picture of him sitting +patiently at the mouth of Salt Creek, ostensibly fishing but actually +watching to see what he could find out.</p> + +<p>"I've seen the <i>Albatross</i> tied up at Salt Creek pier three times," +the captain went on. "Now! Why would a trawler, loaded to the gunwales +with menhaden, stop at the hotel before coming in to the fish wharves +to unload?"</p> + +<p>"Not for social purposes, that's certain," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"Find out why and we're a lot closer to the solution," Cap'n Mike +stated.</p> + +<p>Rick had the germ of an idea. "How far out do the trawlers go?"</p> + +<p>"Few miles. Fishing grounds start a couple of miles out. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Just an idea."</p> + +<p>Scotty's eyes met Rick's. "Thinking about going to take a look?"</p> + +<p>"Could be. What time do they leave here, and what time do they get +back?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They leave about four in the morning at this time of year. Mostly +they don't get back until around nine. They like to get to the grounds +by daylight and fish until dark. If they get a full load before dark, +of course they come in earlier."</p> + +<p>Rick grinned at Scotty. "Ever wanted to be a reporter?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. My spelling isn't that good."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're going to be one. Let's get home. I want to make a call +to the Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike's eyes brightened. "So you'll work along with me, hey? Knew +you would. What happens now?"</p> + +<p>"First thing is to interview Captain Tyler and his crew," Rick said.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike shook his head. "You'd be wasting time. I've already tried. +Tom's not saying a word, even to his old friends, and the crew has +orders from him not to talk. They're loyal. You'll get nothing out of +'em."</p> + +<p>"All right," Rick said, disappointed. If the fishermen wouldn't talk +to Cap'n Mike they certainly wouldn't talk to him and Scotty. "Then +we'll go back to Spindrift and do a couple of chores. We'll come back +to Seaford tonight. I'd like to get a look at the <i>Albatross</i>, if you +can fix it."</p> + +<p>"Easy." Cap'n Mike rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm betting +we can get Tom Tyler out of this."</p> + +<p>Rick scratched his head thoughtfully. "Don't get your hopes too high, +Cap'n Mike. We're only a couple of amateurs, remember."</p> + +<p>"Some amateurs are better than some professionals, no matter what the +business. I'm not worried any more."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike walked down to the boat landing in front<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> of the old +windmill with them. "How will you come down tonight?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try to borrow a car," Rick said. "Think Jerry will lend us his, +Scotty?"</p> + +<p>"If he isn't using it. If he is, maybe we can borrow Gus's."</p> + +<p>Scotty walked to the stern of the launch and untied the line that held +it to the pier. Rick loosed the bow line, then jumped into the pilot's +seat. As he did so, he sat on a sheet of paper. He had left no paper +on the seat. He rescued it and turned it over. There was a message on +the back, printed in pencil in huge block letters. Its content sent a +sudden shiver through him. He beckoned to Scotty and handed it to him. +"Looks like someone can read enough to get our home port off the stern +of the launch."</p> + +<p>Scotty scanned it rapidly, then whistled softly. For Cap'n Mike's +benefit, he read it aloud.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>KEEP OUT OF THIS. KEEP OUT OF SEAFORD AND STAY AWAY FROM +SHANNON. STAY AT SPINDRIFT WHERE YOU BELONG. YOU'LL GET HURT +IF YOU DON'T.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Scotty's face took on an injured expression. "To read that," he +complained, "you'd think we weren't wanted here!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h2>The Mysterious Phone Call</h2> + + +<p>Rick hung up the phone in the Spindrift library and turned to Scotty. +"Jerry is using his car tonight. But Duke says okay. He'll make out a +reporter's identity card for you and a photographer's card for me. +Only if anything interesting turns up, we have to give him a story."</p> + +<p>"Good thing papers have rewrite men," Scotty said, grinning. "It's all +I can do to write a readable letter. A news story would be way beyond +me."</p> + +<p>Rick picked up the phone again. "I'll see if Gus is using his car."</p> + +<p>Gus, owner, chief mechanic, and general factotum of the Whiteside +Airport, had loaned his car to Rick on several occasions. His hope, he +explained every time, was that Rick would drive it to pieces so he +could collect the insurance and get a better one.</p> + +<p>In a moment Gus answered. "It's Gus."</p> + +<p>"Rick here, Gus. That ancient clunk of yours still running?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gus's voice assumed wounded dignity. "Are you speaking of my airplane +or my automobile?"</p> + +<p>"Your limousine. Using it tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. Don't drive it any more than I have to. When do you want it?"</p> + +<p>"About eight, if that's all right."</p> + +<p>"Okay. I'll drop it off at the dock. Don't bother bringing it back. +Just let me know where it is so I can tell the insurance company."</p> + +<p>"I'm a safe driver, Gus," Rick said with a grin.</p> + +<p>"If I believed that I wouldn't lend you the car. Leave it in my back +yard when you get through, huh?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks a million, Gus. I'll take good care of it."</p> + +<p>"Don't. You'll spoil it."</p> + +<p>Rick rang off. "What time is it?"</p> + +<p>"About half past three," Scotty said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Let's take the Cub up for a little spin."</p> + +<p>Scotty chuckled. "You're never as happy as when you're trying to +unravel a mystery. Any mystery."</p> + +<p>"You don't like it," Rick scoffed. "You like a peaceful, quiet life. A +book and a hammock. That's for you. Why don't you go get one of your +Oat Operas to read and leave the mystery to me?"</p> + +<p>"Got to keep you out of trouble," Scotty said amiably. "It isn't +because I'm interested."</p> + +<p>They walked from the house into the orchard that separated the low, +gray stone laboratory buildings from the house and headed toward the +air strip. The strip was grass-covered and just big enough for a small +plane like Rick's. It ran along the seaward side of the island, with +the orchard on one side and the sea cliff on the other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just thought," Scotty said suddenly. "We'd better have some +binoculars if we're going out to take a look at the fleet."</p> + +<p>"I'll warm up while you get them," Rick agreed. He started the engine +and warmed the plane until Scotty arrived with a pair of ten-power +binoculars.</p> + +<p>Scotty untied the parking ropes and pulled out the wheel chocks, then +got into his seat. "Let's go," he said.</p> + +<p>Rick nodded and advanced the throttle. In a moment the Cub lifted +easily from the grass.</p> + +<p>Rick settled down to the business of flying. He looked at the sea +below and estimated the wind force. Mentally he figured his probable +drift, then decided on south-southeast as his compass heading, and +swung the little plane on course.</p> + +<p>"Checked the equipment recently?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>He referred to the two-man life raft and signaling pistol Rick had +purchased from Navy surplus for just such overwater flights as this.</p> + +<p>"Went through it Saturday," Rick said. "But don't worry. We won't get +your feet wet."</p> + +<p>"You hadn't better," Scotty retorted. "These are new shoes I have on." +He paused. "What do you think about that warning?"</p> + +<p>They had discussed it thoroughly on the way home from Seaford, +examining all possibilities. "I haven't changed my mind," Rick said. +"I think it was Carrots Kelso."</p> + +<p>He reasoned that Red Kelso, the boy's father, had too much sense to +try warning them away. The only purpose the warning would serve would +be to arouse their curiosity even more—which it had certainly done.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That Carrots is a queer one," Scotty said. He had to raise his voice +slightly because of the engine's drone. "Did you notice the rifle he +carried?"</p> + +<p>"And how! It looked like a .30-30."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at Scotty in surprise. "No?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. It looked like one because of the lever. Sport carbines have +those to lever cartridges into the chamber. But this one had a lever +for pumping air. I've only seen one like it before, and a professional +hunter in Australia had that one. He used it for collecting specimens +when he didn't want to make noise. Sometimes he found several +wallabies or Tasmanian wolves together and he could get two or three +before they knew what was up."</p> + +<p>"You mean an air gun has enough power to use for hunting?" Rick knew +modern air guns had high penetrating power, but he had never heard of +one powerful enough to use on animals as big as wolves.</p> + +<p>"This model has," Scotty told him. "It was made by the Breda Gun +Company in Czechoslovakia before the war. The slug is about .25 +caliber, but heavier than the kind we have in America."</p> + +<p>"Wonder where he got it," Rick mused.</p> + +<p>"Hard to tell. They're expensive guns, believe me."</p> + +<p>The Cub had been flying only a few hundred feet above the water. +Behind them, the New Jersey coast was still in sight. Rick climbed to +a thousand feet and told Scotty to start looking for the fishing +fleet.</p> + +<p>"How many shots can you get out of that air rifle?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"Just one. It's automatic loading, but it has to be pumped up each +time. That's not as hard as it sounds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> though, because the pump is +made so that two strokes will give it a full air charge. It's about as +fast firing as a single-shot .22 rifle."</p> + +<p>Rick's eyes scanned the horizon. "How do you suppose Carrots tracked +us to Cap'n Mike's shack?"</p> + +<p>"Easy enough. He could hike along the shore and keep us in sight."</p> + +<p>"He was risking being seen when he put that warning on the seat. +Suppose one of us had looked out the window?"</p> + +<p>"Then he would have pretended to be just hiking, or looking at the +boat or something. It wasn't really much of a risk."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," Rick agreed. Small specks on the horizon caught his +eye suddenly and he pointed. "There's the fleet!"</p> + +<p>Scotty held the binoculars to his eyes. "Sure enough. About eight +trawlers so far, pretty well scattered."</p> + +<p>In a few moments they could see clouds of gulls and petrels around the +boats, a sure sign of plenty of fish. Then they made out the details +of the big nets used by the fishermen for catching the menhaden.</p> + +<p>"See if you can spot the <i>Albatross</i>," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to go down and pass each boat, then. I couldn't make out +the names from this height."</p> + +<p>"Okay. Here we go."</p> + +<p>On each of the craft, fishermen waved as the Cub sped past. Scotty +read the names aloud. None of the trawlers was the <i>Albatross</i>.</p> + +<p>Rick put the Cub into a climb. "There must be other trawlers around. +Let's go up and take a look."</p> + +<p>Scotty shook his head. "I have a better idea. We'll see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> the +<i>Albatross</i> tonight, anyway. Why not go into shore and fly over Creek +House? Sometimes you can see things from the air you can't see from +the ground."</p> + +<p>Rick considered. Flying out to the fleet had been only an impulse +anyway; he hadn't expected to see anything. He was quite sure the +<i>Albatross</i> would look and act just like the rest of the Seaford +fleet.</p> + +<p>"Good idea," he said finally, and banked the Cub around. He pointed +the little plane south of west to compensate for the wind, then +settled back.</p> + +<p>Rick kept an eye out for landmarks as the coast approached and +presently he made out the steel towers of an antenna field. That would +be the Loran radio range south of Seaford. He had compensated a little +too much for drift. He banked north and in a few moments Scotty +spotted Seaford.</p> + +<p>Rick dropped down, but kept out to sea so that he wouldn't violate the +law about flying too low over towns. He saw the windmill and Cap'n +Mike's shack behind it.</p> + +<p>"Go past Smugglers' Reef and then turn and come back over Creek +House," Scotty suggested.</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. Dead ahead he could see the curving arm of the reef and +the wreck of Tyler's trawler. He saw that the fishing craft had piled +up just about midway between the navigation light on the reef's tip +and the old tower where the light formerly had been. Men were working +about the trawler. Then, as the Cub flashed overhead, he saw a large +truck that had backed down the reef toward the wreck as far as it was +safe to go.</p> + +<p>Scotty had been watching through the glasses. As Rick swung wide out +to sea and banked around to go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> south again, he said, "Know what +they're doing down there? They're stripping the wreck."</p> + +<p>"That makes sense," Rick said. "Probably the insurance company wants +to salvage what it can. They'd have to act fast before sea water +ruined the engines."</p> + +<p>He banked sharply over Brendan's Marsh. To the right was the highway +leading from Whiteside to Seaford. Between the highway and the sea was +the marsh. Although the marsh looked like solid growth from the +ground, it could be seen that it was cut up by narrow waterways, most +of which wandered aimlessly through the rushes and then vanished. Salt +Creek was sharply defined, however, indicating that it was much deeper +than the surrounding water.</p> + +<p>The Creek House was fenced in on only two sides, he saw. The high +boards separated it from the next hotel on the south, and from the +road on the sea front. But inland, a continuation of the marsh served +as a dividing line. Salt Creek made the fourth side. The old mansion +was set in the middle of the square with a big combination garage and +boathouse behind it, almost against the marsh on the creek side. The +doors were open and he could make out a black car, probably a coupé or +two-door model, in one of the stalls.</p> + +<p>"See anyone?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"Not a soul." Evidently the Kelsos were indoors.</p> + +<p>Rick climbed as the Cub passed over Seaford, then turned out to sea +and went northward again. Scotty kept the glasses on Smugglers' Reef. +As they flashed past, he swiveled sharply. "Rick, make another run, +right over the wreck."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You won't be able to see it if I go right over it," Rick objected.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see the wreck, I want a closer look at the old +tower."</p> + +<p>Rick shot a glance at his pal. "See something?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure."</p> + +<p>"I'll throttle down so you can get a better look." He made a slow +bank, lined up the wreck and throttled down, dropping the nose to a +shallow glide in order to maintain flying speed. As the Cub passed the +old tower, he looked curiously. He couldn't imagine what had attracted +Scotty's interest. The thing was only a steel framework, red with +rust. Not even the top platform was left.</p> + +<p>Off Seaford, he banked out to sea again.</p> + +<p>"See enough?"</p> + +<p>Scotty dropped the binoculars to his lap. "I saw bright metal on the +lowest cross girder. I couldn't tell much, but it looked like a deep +scratch. And some of the rust had been flaked off around the spot, +too. I could tell because it was a redder color than the rest."</p> + +<p>Rick thought it over. "I can't make anything out of that," he said +finally. "What's your guess?"</p> + +<p>Scotty shrugged. "I don't have one. But it's a cinch someone has been +up there, and within the past couple of days, too. Raw metal rusts +fast right over the sea like that, and this spot was bright enough to +attract my attention. Maybe we'd better have a closer look from the +ground."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't hurt," Rick agreed. "Well, what now?"</p> + +<p>"Might as well go home," Scotty said. "We can take it easy until after +dinner, and then go to Whiteside, pick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> up those cards from Duke and +get the car from Gus."</p> + +<p>They had been flying steadily north. A moment later Spindrift loomed +on the horizon. Rick saw the gray lab building and, to its left, +Pirate's Field where the rocket launcher had once stood. He waited +until the Cub was abreast of the old oak on the mainland that he used +as a landmark, then cut the throttle. The plane lost altitude rapidly, +passed a few feet over the radar antenna on the lab building and +settled to the grass strip. Rick gunned the tail around and rolled to +the parking place.</p> + +<p>They staked down the Cub and walked through the orchard to the house. +In the kitchen, Mrs. Brant was rolling out piecrust. She smiled at the +boys. "Been riding?"</p> + +<p>"We went out to watch the fishing fleet," Rick said, "then swung down +over Seaford for another look at that wrecked trawler. What kind of +pie, Mom?"</p> + +<p>"Butterscotch."</p> + +<p>Scotty smacked his lips. "We should have waited a little while, then +we could have had a sample when we got in."</p> + +<p>"No samples," Mrs. Brant said. "It would spoil your supper."</p> + +<p>"Not mine," Scotty replied. "Nothing spoils my supper. Got any +doughnuts handy, Mom?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brant sighed. "In the stone crock. And there's milk in the +refrigerator. But only one doughnut!"</p> + +<p>"Only one," Scotty agreed. "How about you, Rick?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not hungry. I think I'll go up and work on the camera for a +while." He would have over an hour to work on it before it was time to +eat. He started for the stairs, then paused as the telephone rang.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hartson Brant, who was working in the library, answered it and called, +"Rick? It's for you."</p> + +<p>"I'll take it upstairs, Dad." He hurried to the top of the stairs and +picked up the hall phone.</p> + +<p>"Hello?"</p> + +<p>"Rick Brant?"</p> + +<p>Rick stiffened. It was a man's voice, but obviously disguised as +though the man spoke through a handkerchief held over the mouthpiece.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"A friend," the disguised voice answered. "You're a nice kid and I +don't like to see you getting into trouble. Keep out of Seaford. +Remember that! Keep out of Seaford and stop flying over in your +airplane or you're going to get hurt. You won't be warned again. Next +time, you'll wake up in a hospital!"</p> + +<p>There was a click as the speaker hung up.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h2>The "Albatross"</h2> + + +<p>"Know what I like about you?" Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"My charm," Rick answered. "Or is it that I like food as much as you +do?"</p> + +<p>"Neither. What I like about you is your caution. The very soul of +prudence, that's what you are. Your instinct for self-preservation is +exceeded by only one thing."</p> + +<p>"My," Rick said. "That's almost poetic. What's the one thing?"</p> + +<p>"Your instinct for getting into trouble," Scotty stated. "You get a +warning to stay away from Seaford, so what happens next?" He waved at +the scenery as they sped past in Gus's old car. "Naturally we head for +Seaford at ninety miles an hour, not even stopping to pick up our +press cards."</p> + +<p>Rick laughed. "Be accurate. This old heap can't go ninety miles an +hour. Besides, it's only my never-ending search for the truth that +leads me to Seaford. I want to find out if the warning is true."</p> + +<p>Scotty sighed. "Whoever it was that phoned should know you as I do. If +we needed anything to sharpen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> the famous Brant nose for trouble, it +was that phone call. I suppose now we'll spend all our waking hours +commuting back and forth to Seaford."</p> + +<p>"Not all," Rick corrected. "Some of the time we'll be in Seaford."</p> + +<p>"Any idea who it was that phoned?"</p> + +<p>"It could have been anyone. But I don't think it was Carrots Kelso. +The voice was an older man's. Maybe it was his father, but I didn't +hear enough of his voice to recognize it."</p> + +<p>"Why should anyone worry about us looking into things?"</p> + +<p>"Respect," Rick said, wincing as the car bounced across Salt Creek +Bridge. "Respect for the genius of Spindrift's two leading detectives. +Can't think of any other reason."</p> + +<p>"Unless whatever is going on would be so obvious to anyone who took +the trouble to investigate that the party concerned doesn't even want +two simple-minded souls like us poking around."</p> + +<p>"Such modesty," Rick clucked.</p> + +<p>"Okay, Hawkshaw," Scotty said resignedly. "On to Seaford. We'll +probably find the answer just as the villain lowers the boom on us."</p> + +<p>Rick swung into the Seaford turnoff and slowed for the main street. He +went straight ahead to the water front and then turned right. In a few +moments the car drew up in front of Cap'n Mike's shack.</p> + +<p>The captain opened the door and peered out. "Be with you in a minute." +In much less than a minute he was out again, clad in a jacket and +officer's cap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Howdy," he greeted them. "See much from your airplane?"</p> + +<p>"How did you know it was our airplane?" Rick asked curiously.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! You don't give people credit for knowing much, do you? I'll +bet everyone in Seaford knows about your airplane. Everyone who reads +the Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>, anyway."</p> + +<p>"But all Cubs look alike," Rick protested, "and most of them are +painted yellow."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike snorted. "What of it? No other yellow planes in this area, +and you been seen on the ground in Seaford twice already. What would +anyone think? Especially when you're on a direct bearing for Spindrift +when you leave?"</p> + +<p>"He's got something there," Scotty said. "It's a logical conclusion."</p> + +<p>Rick had to agree. "Well, you're the guide, Cap'n. Where to?"</p> + +<p>"The pier." Cap'n Mike looked at the fast-fading light in the west. +"It's time for the trawlers to be coming in. Reckon we'll talk to a +couple of folks and get a look at the <i>Albatross</i> and her crew."</p> + +<p>Rick turned the car around and headed for town. "Why don't you tell us +all you know about the <i>Albatross</i> visiting Creek House?"</p> + +<p>"I intended to. First off, the <i>Albatross</i> has been there three times +that I know of. And each time she has put in on her way back from the +fishing grounds. Now, that's mighty strange. First thing a captain +thinks of is getting his fish into port. But not Brad Marbek. Instead, +he lays<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> at the Creek House pier until nigh onto midnight. Then he +puts into the wharf and unloads his fish. What do you make out of +that?"</p> + +<p>Rick could make nothing out of it. The <i>Albatross</i> certainly wouldn't +be calling at Creek House just to be sociable. "Were these calls made +at regular intervals?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nope. One was two weeks ago, one was four nights ago, and the last +time was night before last."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't four nights ago the night you saw Tom Tyler at Creek House?" +Scotty recalled.</p> + +<p>"It was. That's one reason why I'm sure the <i>Albatross</i> is tied up +with the wreck of the <i>Sea Belle</i>."</p> + +<p>Rick searched for possible reasons why the trawler should tie up at +Creek House and rejected all but one. He had the beginnings of an +idea, but he needed to think about it a little more before he broached +it.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n, you've been keeping an eye on the Kelsos for quite a while, +sounds like," Rick said. "Do they ever have any visitors?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't seen any."</p> + +<p>"No trucks?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"Haven't seen any."</p> + +<p>They were approaching the big, shedlike fish pier. It was brilliantly +lighted. At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pulled off the street and +parked.</p> + +<p>"What happens to the menhaden after they're unloaded?" Scotty wanted +to know.</p> + +<p>"Ever notice that one-story building next to the pier? Well, they go +into that on conveyer belts. Then the oil is cooked out of them and +what's left is turned into feed or fertilizer. You'd know if you'd +ever been here while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> the plant was processing and the wind was +inshore. Dangdest smell you ever smelled. Like to ruin your nose."</p> + +<p>Rick sniffed the fishy air. "I believe it," he said.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike had been leading the way toward the big pier. Now he turned +onto the pier itself. Some trawlers already were tied up and were +being unloaded by bucket cranes. The reek of fish was strong enough to +make Rick wish for a gas mask. He saw Scotty's nose wrinkle and knew +his pal wasn't enjoying it, either.</p> + +<p>The captain stopped at the first trawler and hailed the bridge. A big +man in an officer's cap answered the hail.</p> + +<p>"Let's go aboard," Cap'n Mike said. "This here is the <i>Jennie Lake</i>. +We'll talk with Bill Lake for a minute."</p> + +<p>Bill Lake was the skipper, and the man they had seen directing the +unloading from the bridge. He greeted Cap'n Mike cordially. The +captain introduced the two boys and Lake shook hands without taking +his eyes from the unloading operation. Rick saw a scoop drop into the +hold and come up with a slippery half-ton of menhaden. Then it sped +along a beam track into the big shed, paused over a wide conveyer +belt, lowered to within a few feet of the belt and dumped its load. A +clerk just inside the door marked the load on a board. Rick looked for +the winch operator and found him opposite the clerk.</p> + +<p>The scoop came back rapidly, sped out the track extension above the +hold, and paused. Bill Lake signaled and the big bucket dropped +slowly. At a further signal, it opened its jaws and plunged into the +mass of fish, then slowly crunched closed and lifted again. There was +certainly no waste motion here, Rick thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike asked, too casually, "What'd you think of Tom Tyler running +on Smugglers' Reef, Bill?"</p> + +<p>Bill's cordiality seemed to freeze up. "None of my business," he said +shortly. "Can't pass judgment on a fellow skipper."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike nodded. "Reckon that's right. Bill, how did you find +visibility last night?"</p> + +<p>"None too good. There was a heavy current running, too."</p> + +<p>"That's interesting. How'd you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Patch of mist drifted in. Anyway, I lost the light for a bit. When +the mist cleared, the current had set us two points off course." +Captain Lake's forehead wrinkled as he watched the scoop return for +another load. "Mighty funny, too. Usually there's no current to speak +of off Brendan's Marsh. But I've said for quite a while that the +currents hereabouts are changing and it looks like this proves it."</p> + +<p>"Was Captain Tyler directly ahead of you, sir?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"Not directly. He was three ahead, the way I figure. Brad Marbek was +right behind him, then came Jim Killian."</p> + +<p>"How far apart were you?" Rick inquired.</p> + +<p>"Quite a ways. Jim was pretty close in front of me, but Brad was +almost out of my sight. Don't know how close he followed Tom."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike spat over the side. "Sad business, anyway," he said. "Well, +Bill, I'm taking these lads on a little tour of the pier. Reckon we'll +be pushing along. Looks like you'll be busy unloading for an hour or +so."</p> + +<p>The boys shook hands with Captain Lake again, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> followed their +guide to the pier once more. Cap'n Mike waited until a scoopful of +menhaden had passed overhead then led the way down the pier.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Captain Killian got set off course by that current," Rick +mused. "I'd like to talk to him."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike shot a glance at him. "Might be interesting at that. You +thinking the same as I am?"</p> + +<p>"We all are," Scotty replied. "That business about losing the light +and having the current set him off course sounded kind of strange."</p> + +<p>"Is he a good guy?" Rick queried.</p> + +<p>"Best there is. If he says it, it happened. But it's mighty funny just +the same. Reckon we'll have to find Jim Killian."</p> + +<p>They passed three trawlers, all unloading, and Rick recognized names +that Scotty had read aloud during their brief flight over the fleet. +Many of the men they passed hailed Cap'n Mike. Evidently he was well +known to the fisherman and pier workers.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the old man stopped. "There's Brad Marbek's craft."</p> + +<p>The next trawler in line was the <i>Albatross</i>.</p> + +<p>Rick looked it over critically. It was indistinguishable from the +others. There was the same cabin, set well forward, the same large +working space aft, the same net booms. It was no dirtier nor cleaner +than the others. Evidently it was filled with fish, because only the +top Plimsoll number was showing. But the skipper was far from average. +Brad Marbek, as Rick saw him on the deck overhead, was a bull of a +man. He was about six feet tall, but his width made him look shorter. +His shoulder span would have done credit to a Percheron<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> horse, and +from his shoulders his torso dropped in almost a straight line. His +waist lacked only an inch or two of being as wide as his shoulders. +His legs were short and thick and planted wide on the deck. His head +was massive and set squarely on his shoulders with hardly any neck. He +was hatless and his coarse black hair, cropped short, stood straight +up like a vegetable brush. His face was weathered to a dark mahogany +color.</p> + +<p>"Not very pretty, is he?" Scotty whispered.</p> + +<p>That, Rick thought, was a masterpiece of understatement. He started to +tell Scotty that compared with Brad Marbek a Hereford bull was +downright winsome, but at that moment Cap'n Mike hailed the +<i>Albatross</i>.</p> + +<p>"Howdy, Brad. How's fish?"</p> + +<p>The skipper's reply was cordial enough. "Howdy, Cap'n Mike. Took +another good haul today. Just startin' to unload." Marbek's black eyes +surveyed the two boys briefly, then evidently dismissed them as of no +importance. "Come on aboard."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. We will." Cap'n Mike motioned to the two boys and led the way +up the gangplank just as a scoop full of menhaden rose from the hold +and passed overhead.</p> + +<p>On deck, the captain introduced the boys to Marbek. Rick found his +hand imprisoned in a horny mass that appeared to be controlled by +steel cables instead of tendons. He tried not to wince.</p> + +<p>"Best season I've seen in years," Marbek told Cap'n Mike. His voice +was ridiculously high and soft, out of keeping with his physique.</p> + +<p>"That's what everyone's saying," Cap'n Mike acknowledged. "Why, only +two days ago, I heard ..."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Scotty nudged Rick with a sharp elbow. He was looking at the pier. +Rick turned and followed his pal's glance, then as he saw what Scotty +was looking at, he inhaled sharply. Carrots Kelso was leaning against +a pillar, watching them.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what's on his mind?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>Brad Marbek saw the direction of their glance. "You kids know Jimmy? +He's my nephew."</p> + +<p>The pause before Cap'n Mike spoke was proof of his surprise. "You +don't say!" He changed the subject abruptly. "Say, Brad, I've been +meaning to ask you. Did you notice any peculiar current offshore last +night?"</p> + +<p>"Current? Can't say I did. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Bill Lake claims a strong current set him off course just as he +picked up Smugglers' Light, about the time Tom Tyler ran aground."</p> + +<p>Rick thought that Brad Marbek hesitated slightly and searched for the +right answer.</p> + +<p>"Now that you mention it, I did notice a little shift." A scoop +whirred out of the hold, crossed the pier, dumped its load and started +the return. "Let me know if you find out any more about it," Marbek +said. "Right now I guess I better attend to my unloadin'."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Brad," Cap'n Mike said. "We'll be getting on. By the way, +happen to know where Jim Killian is tied up?"</p> + +<p>"I think he's on the other side of the pier. Cross over and duck under +the belts. He should be right abeam of us."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Let's go, boys."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike led the way down the gangplank with Rick and Scotty +following. Rick felt Brad Marbek's eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> on them. He had sensed +tension under the fisherman's surface cordiality, and he was +interested in the quick way Marbek had remembered the strange current +when Cap'n Mike quoted Bill Lake.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the gangplank, Cap'n Mike paused. "Let's find Jim. I'm +getting real curious about that current Bill mentioned. What say?"</p> + +<p>"We're right with you," Scotty replied.</p> + +<p>Rick watched the big scoop vanish into the <i>Albatross'</i> hold, then +looked for Carrots Kelso. He was no longer in sight. "Wonder where +Carrots went to?" he said to Scotty.</p> + +<p>"Probably running to tell his father we're prowling around the pier."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike led the way into the pier shed. He turned to look over his +shoulder at the boys. "What'd you think of Marbek claiming young Kelso +as a nephew?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think he really is?" Rick asked. He had to raise his voice +above the noise of the scoop as it lifted from the trawler's hold.</p> + +<p>"Surprise to me. I've known Marbek fifteen years and never heard of +any family. Why—"</p> + +<p>"Look out!"</p> + +<p>On the heels of Scotty's cry, Rick caught a glimpse of his pal hurling +Cap'n Mike headlong. He jumped forward, glancing up, just as the great +fish scoop opened over his head. He put all of his energy in a forward +leap to safety, but too late!</p> + +<p>Cascading thousands of menhaden crushed him violently to the floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h2>Search for a Clue</h2> + + +<p>As Rick fell to the floor, he twisted sideways and managed to bring up +one arm to protect his head. In an instant he was buried in a great, +heavy, slippery mass of fish. His nostrils filled with the oily +stench, and when he opened his mouth to breathe, he closed it again on +a fish tail. He spat it out, and then, furious, he struggled against +the slimy weight, got his hands and feet under him and heaved. Fish +cascaded from his arched back and he broke clear just as Scotty +reached for him.</p> + +<p>"You all right?" Scotty gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike, hurled clear by Scotty's rush, was getting to his feet.</p> + +<p>Scotty departed on a dead run.</p> + +<p>Rick collected his thoughts and yelled, "Hey! Wait! Where're you +going?"</p> + +<p>"After Kelso," Scotty called back over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Rick didn't know what had happened, but evidently Scotty did and was +doing something about it. He ran<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> after his friend, brushing off dirt +from his clothes as he did so. He heard Cap'n Mike call, "Wait for +me!" but he didn't pause.</p> + +<p>At the entrance to the pier, Rick caught up with Scotty who was +looking up and down the street, his face flushed with anger.</p> + +<p>"He's gone. No use looking for him because he could hide anywhere +around here. But we'll catch up with him one of these days, and when +we do ..."</p> + +<p>"What's it all about?" Rick demanded.</p> + +<p>"Carrots tripped that scoop on us. I don't know how, but I know he did +it."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike came up behind them in time to hear Scotty. "He's the one, +all right. There's an emergency trip on those scoops, set in the wall. +It's in case the operator loses control. Then the scoop can be dumped +without having all that weight smash against the end of the track and +break things. Young Kelso must have punched the trip."</p> + +<p>"He sure did." Rick sniffed angrily. "And I smell like ten days in a +bait pail. Scotty, we've got to get home and get out of these clothes. +I can't stand myself."</p> + +<p>"Check," Scotty replied. "Well, I guess that wraps up the +investigation for the night, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike nodded. "I want to be around when you boys meet up with +young Kelso. That was as fishy a trick as I ever saw pulled."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at the old sea captain suspiciously. Cap'n Mike was having +a hard time to keep from laughing. Then Rick had to grin himself. +"Don't laugh too loud," he reminded. "If Scotty hadn't pushed you, +you'd be smelling like a week-old herring yourself."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know," Cap'n Mike said. "Thanks." He threw back his head and +roared.</p> + +<p>Rick laughed, too, but when Cap'n Mike doubled up with mirth, he began +to grow a little irritated. "It isn't that funny," he said, a little +tartly.</p> + +<p>Scotty chuckled. "Maybe this is what amuses him." He reached over and +plucked a small menhaden from the breast pocket of Rick's jacket.</p> + +<p>"Dangdest place to carry fresh fish I ever saw," Cap'n Mike said, and +went off into gales of laughter again.</p> + +<p>Rick took out his handkerchief and mopped his face. "Well," he said, +grinning, "I'm sure glad those menhaden weren't whales."</p> + +<p>They drove home to Whiteside with all windows wide open and newspapers +on the seat to protect the car, but even so, the stench of oily fish +made Rick feel a little queasy.</p> + +<p>"We can't go to Spindrift like this," he complained. "Tell you what, +I'll take the wood road that goes down by the tidal flats. Then one of +us can cross over, get clean clothes for both of us and some soap and +towels. We can go to Walton's Pond, take a swim, scrub off the fish, +and change."</p> + +<p>"Good idea," Scotty agreed. "But these coats and pants will have to be +dry cleaned."</p> + +<p>"That's easy. There's a night service door at the cleaners where we +can just push them through."</p> + +<p>Scotty chuckled. "You won't get any thanks for that. The whole dry +cleaning place will smell like a fish market before morning."</p> + +<p>"We'll wrap them up good in plenty of newspapers."</p> + +<p>"Where do we get the papers?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"From the <i>Morning Record</i>. I want to go there, anyway."</p> + +<p>Scotty gave him a sideways glance. "Got an idea?"</p> + +<p>"Just a glimmer." Rick's lips tightened. "And I'll tell you something +else. Until now, this case was just sort of interesting for itself, +but now I have a personal interest. I think the Kelsos are at the +bottom of it."</p> + +<p>"And we owe them a debt," Scotty finished. "Carrots, anyway. What do +you suppose he dumped the scoop on us for?"</p> + +<p>Rick shrugged. "Sheer poison meanness. And weren't we warned not to go +to Seaford?"</p> + +<p>An hour later, when they had cleaned up, the boys returned the car to +Gus, apologized for the faint but definite aroma of dead menhaden, and +walked to the <i>Morning Record</i> office.</p> + +<p>Duke Barrows, a veteran newspaperman but young in years, greeted them +cordially. "Hello, Rick, Scotty. Here are those cards you asked for." +He swiveled his chair around and regarded them with interested eyes. +"Getting anywhere on that Seaford yarn?"</p> + +<p>"We're still feeling around," Rick replied. "But there's a good story +in it if we can find the lead."</p> + +<p>"Keep working then," Duke said. "I'll pay you space rates if it hits +page one."</p> + +<p>"How much is that?" Scotty wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five cents a column inch on this sheet. You didn't expect to +get rich, did you?"</p> + +<p>Rick returned Duke's grin. "If this story is as good as I think it is, +we'll just about get rich. You'll want to cover the whole front page +with it."</p> + +<p>"Can't be that good," Duke returned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick looked around the office. "Where's Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"In the composing room. He'll be back in a minute. Got anything on +your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Just an idea. Do you keep a file of New York papers?"</p> + +<p>"Over there. On the shelf. Help yourself."</p> + +<p>Rick nodded his thanks. "Let's go give my idea a try, Scotty."</p> + +<p>Scotty tucked his press card into his wallet. "I could probably help +if I knew what the idea was."</p> + +<p>Rick explained briefly. He wanted to check the shipping sections for +the dates when the <i>Albatross</i> had been seen at Creek House. He +particularly wanted to know what ships had arrived at New York at noon +or before on those dates. He was interested in ships arriving from +southern ports in the Caribbean, or from southern Europe. That, he +figured, would give them only the ships that might have been standing +off Seaford in the early hours before dawn on the critical dates. He +had a vague idea that he might find some sort of similarity in the +ships that had been off Seaford on the critical dates. The registry +might be the same, or the ownership.</p> + +<p>But when the compilation was complete, there were no similarities at +all. In fact, so far as he could determine, no ship had been off +Seaford during the time he had chosen as having the best +possibilities.</p> + +<p>As they walked toward the Whiteside boat landing after saying good +night to Duke and Jerry, Rick rapidly reviewed all they knew about the +wreck of Tom Tyler's trawler and the events at Seaford.</p> + +<p>"I sure thought I had the connecting link," he said. "I still think +so, even if there wasn't any evidence in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> papers. It's the only +answer that makes any sense."</p> + +<p>Scotty nodded. "Keep talking."</p> + +<p>"Okay. The Kelsos suddenly arrive at Seaford and move into Creek +House. Then the <i>Albatross</i> starts making visits at a time when no +fisherman in his right mind would pay calls. So Brad Marbek must be +going to Creek House on his way back from the fishing grounds for a +good business reason. Right?"</p> + +<p>"It figures. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>"Tom Tyler spied on Creek House, and he found out something. Red Kelso +warned him, and Tyler refused to take the warning. Result: his ship +was wrecked. We don't know how yet, but we'll find out. Another thing: +Mrs. Tyler was frightened, and Tom Tyler is afraid to talk. What's +your guess on that?"</p> + +<p>Scotty kicked a pebble out of the path. "Kelso again. When Tyler +didn't take the first warning, his trawler was wrecked and he was told +that next time something would happen to his family. That's the only +threat they could make stick with a man like Tyler. If they threatened +him, he'd laugh at them. But if they threatened his wife and little +girl ..."</p> + +<p>"That's the way I see it, too. Now, what kind of business requires a +boat, a house on a secluded part of the beach, and a guard with a +rifle?"</p> + +<p>"Smuggling," Scotty said flatly.</p> + +<p>Smuggling. It was the answer that fitted. Rick didn't know yet what +kind of smuggling, but he intended to find out. "If you were the +Kelsos, and if you were bringing contraband into Creek House, how +would you get it out of Seaford?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Scotty thought it over. "Not trucks," he said. "Cap'n<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> Mike said he +hadn't seen any trucks calling at Creek House. How about taking it +somewhere in a small boat?"</p> + +<p>In his mind's eye Rick saw the countryside surrounding Creek House as +he had seen it from the air. "Right up Salt Creek," he said excitedly. +"How about that? If they unloaded at the pier when the <i>Albatross</i> +came in and then reloaded into a motor dory or some other kind of +small boat, they could take it right up Salt Creek to the bridge. Then +all they would need would be a truck waiting there. And if they did it +late at night, there wouldn't be any traffic to worry about."</p> + +<p>"That must be it!" Scotty exclaimed. Then he sobered. "But how are we +going to find out if that's the answer?"</p> + +<p>There was only one way. "I guess we're just going to have to see for +ourselves," Rick said. As they passed the dry cleaning establishment, +he took the bundle of newspaper-wrapped clothes he had been carrying +and dropped them into the night-service opening. A whiff of departed +menhaden smote his nose forcefully and he added grimly, "Believe me, +it'll be a pleasure!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h2>The Old Tower</h2> + + +<p>Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unit +to his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. "I <i>should</i> get a +picture," he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors. +He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only an +actual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the rather +slow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn't give enough +light 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 two +hundred.</p> + +<p>It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared was +light. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight would +cast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would be +able to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb.</p> + +<p>Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register the +reflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsion +had been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. The +motion-picture film had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> been made at his special order. It was not a +stock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon could +have measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment. +Rick wasn't skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic wave +analyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in the +library and couldn't be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance to +ask his father before he tested the camera.</p> + +<p>He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to do +some figuring.</p> + +<p>Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waited +expectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. "It's an out-of-town +call, for either one of you."</p> + +<p>"We'll take it up here, Mom," Rick called back. He and Scotty raced +for the landing.</p> + +<p>Scotty reached the phone first. "Hello?" He nodded at Rick. "It's +Cap'n Mike."</p> + +<p>Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with the +Seaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon.</p> + +<p>Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we're +coming down today. Says he has something to talk over with us."</p> + +<p>Rick said quickly, "We'll be down by boat right after lunch."</p> + +<p>Scotty relayed the information and hung up. "He didn't say what it +was, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn't come down +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna." Rick grinned. "By the +way, did you call Jerry while I was working on the camera?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I sure did. He got all excited. I had to calm him down a little +before he went and looked up the answer."</p> + +<p>Scotty had phoned at Rick's suggestion to find out from Jerry's +newspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence of +smuggling at Seaford.</p> + +<p>"He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either the +Coast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we had +something more than suspicion to go on."</p> + +<p>"A good idea," Rick agreed. "It wouldn't do to get the government all +steamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we'd be +laying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let's go see if +Mom can scrape up a sandwich, and then get going for Seaford."</p> + +<p>It was not yet two o'clock when Cap'n Mike greeted the boys as they +tied up at the old windmill pier. "Mighty glad you're here. Boys, +we've got to really buckle down to business."</p> + +<p>"What happened?" Rick asked. He and Scotty fell in step with the old +captain and walked toward his shack.</p> + +<p>"Tom Tyler's hearing has been set for Saturday morning."</p> + +<p>Scotty frowned. "Today is Wednesday. That doesn't give us much time."</p> + +<p>"I know it don't. But unless we find some answers right fast, Tom will +lose his license sure as shooting. And that's not all. He'll find +himself charged by the insurance company with deliberately running the +<i>Sea Belle</i> on the reef."</p> + +<p>Rick found a comfortable seat in the captain's shack and stretched out +his legs. "Let's hold a council of war.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> If we're going to do +anything, we'd better have a plan of action." He told Cap'n Mike of +their suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged in +smuggling and waited for the old man's reaction.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. "Now! It could be that you +boys have something there. It could just be!"</p> + +<p>"But what would they be smuggling?" Scotty demanded.</p> + +<p>"Shucks. I could make you a list a mile long. Most people think it's +only worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tell +you many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escape +paying duty on them."</p> + +<p>"Suppose they <i>are</i> smuggling," Rick pointed out. "How do we prove +it?"</p> + +<p>"Catch 'em red-handed," Scotty said. "Red-handed instead of +redheaded."</p> + +<p>Rick and Cap'n Mike groaned in unison.</p> + +<p>It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick had +given some thought to it before going to sleep. "There are a couple of +ways we might do that," he said. "First of all, we know they have to +get rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House until +it's moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in the +hotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night."</p> + +<p>"Not practical," Scotty objected. "Mom would object to our staying out +all night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer before +the hearing Saturday morning."</p> + +<p>"Then how about this," Rick continued. "We move in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> on them when the +<i>Albatross</i> pulls up at Creek House to unload."</p> + +<p>Scotty stretched out on Cap'n Mike's bed. "That's fine. But how do we +know when the <i>Albatross</i> is going to visit the Kelsos?"</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Mike tells us. Cap'n, according to what you said when we were +here before, the <i>Albatross</i> sometimes stays at Creek House until +almost midnight. That means that it takes them awhile to unload +whatever they're smuggling."</p> + +<p>Scotty had an objection. "If they were doing any unloading, wouldn't +you have seen them, Cap'n Mike?"</p> + +<p>The old seaman shook his head. "Nope. I didn't dare get close enough +to see what was going on. Besides, my eyes ain't what they were at +night. I just sat off the end of Salt Creek, letting the reeds hide +me, and saw what I could, which wasn't much. If I'd gone up the creek +any distance, they'd have spotted me against the sea."</p> + +<p>Rick finished, "So you see, if Cap'n Mike could keep an eye on the +creek, he'd know when the <i>Albatross</i> arrived. If he phoned us right +away, we could be here within an hour, or even a half-hour, if we took +the fast boat."</p> + +<p>"Sounds sensible," Scotty admitted. "Any other plans?"</p> + +<p>"Just one, which isn't very practical. We could get someone to fly out +over the fleet during the most likely hours and wait for the +<i>Albatross</i> to make contact with the supply ship. I wish we could fly +at night, but we can't. The contact has to be during the darkness, and +I think before dawn is the best time. If Brad Marbek made contact +after he got through fishing, some of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> other trawlers might see +the ship coming. Then they might get curious and hang around to see +why Brad was hanging back. Maybe that's what Tom Tyler did."</p> + +<p>"But if he left and made contact before dawn, the others might think +nothing of it. I don't suppose they all leave at once, do they?" +Scotty asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"Nope. They don't all leave at once, but they usually come back at the +same time. And Brad has been coming back as far as Salt Creek with the +rest. So I guess Rick guessed right."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike did some figuring. "Tell you what. I can sit on the beach +at the edge of town with a pair of night glasses. I'll borrow some. I +can 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 Drug +Store. We'll start tonight."</p> + +<p>Scotty got up and yawned. "That's settled. Now I'd like to look into +something. We can't overlook any possible lead. Rick, remember the +tower?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Rick got to his feet, too. "And I remember something else. That +business about the shifting current and the light. Cap'n, have you +talked to Captain Killian?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, but I surely will today. That may be worth something." He +walked with them toward the pier. "But what's this tower business?"</p> + +<p>Rick explained briefly. "We'll stop there on the way back to +Spindrift."</p> + +<p>"Phone us if Captain Killian has anything interesting to say," Scotty +requested.</p> + +<p>"I will. Now you boys be careful. Keep a weather eye out, and don't +forget those warnings."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We're not likely to," Rick assured him.</p> + +<p>As they sped past the Seaford water front toward Smugglers' Reef, Rick +plotted 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 they +would hurry from Spindrift by boat, since it would take too long to go +to Whiteside and try to get a car. The Cub was out; there was no place +to land at Seaford.</p> + +<p>The best way of finding a good hide-out from which to watch the Kelsos +would be to take a photograph from the air. He could do that this very +afternoon and develop it at home. An enlargement, which the photo lab +at Spindrift was equipped to make, would be better than a map.</p> + +<p>He felt better now that they had an objective. But! "Suppose the +<i>Albatross</i> doesn't do any smuggling before Saturday?" he asked +Scotty.</p> + +<p>"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 until +later."</p> + +<p>"Guess that's right," Rick agreed. He swung the launch around the tip +of Smugglers' Reef, past the light and the wreck of the <i>Sea Belle</i>. +For the first time since the fatal night, there was no one at the +trawler or on the reef. He put the launch close in shore at the sandy +strip near the Creek House fence, and Scotty jumped to the beach with +the anchor as before.</p> + +<p>Rick joined him on the sand. "Now for a look at the tower. Where did +you see the marks?"</p> + +<p>Scotty pointed to the rusted structure. There were four upright +girders slanting inward from the base to where the top platform had +been. Horizontal girders<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> held the structure together one-third and +two-thirds of the way up. "The marks are on the first row of +cross-pieces," he said. "On this side."</p> + +<p>The steel climbing ladder was on the Seaford, or opposite side, of the +tower halfway between the uprights. Rick looked at it dubiously. "It's +pretty rusty. Think it will bear our weight?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe only one of us had better go," Scotty conceded. "I'll try it."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at his friend's solid frame and shook his head. "I'm the +lightest. I'd better do it."</p> + +<p>"You're not that much lighter," Scotty objected. "Tell you what, let's +flip for it."</p> + +<p>"Okay." Rick produced a coin, tossed it in the air, and called, +"Tails."</p> + +<p>It was. Scotty picked up the coin and turned it over, as though making +sure it wasn't tails on both sides, then handed it to Rick with a +grin. "Can you always call your shots like that?"</p> + +<p>"Only on Wednesdays." He gestured toward the high board fence that cut +them off from Creek House. "Look, just to be on the safe side, you +keep an eye open for the Kelsos. If you see them coming, give me a +yell. I don't think they'd dare try anything in broad daylight, but +you can never tell."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll stick near the boat."</p> + +<p>As Scotty walked back to the launch, Rick went to the base of the +tower and looked up. The frame seemed secure enough in spite of the +rust. He jumped for the first rung of the ladder and hauled himself +up. In a moment he was on the horizontal girder. The scratches Scotty +had seen from the air were clearly visible. To<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> reach them, he had to +work around the girders to the opposite side. He stood up and found +his balance, then walked easily to the corner girder, rounded it and +crossed to the other side. The marks were only a few feet away.</p> + +<p>The upper stories of Creek House were on and above his level now. He +could look right into the windows of the second floor—except that the +windows were so dirty that he couldn't see much. Suddenly he froze. +One of the second-floor windows was being raised. He saw a vague +figure behind it, but it was dark in the room and he couldn't see +clearly. There was no reason to be disturbed about it, yet he felt a +quick wave of apprehension. He had better look over the scratches and +get out.</p> + +<p>Holding on to the corner girder, he crouched and leaned outward toward +the marks. There were two bright scratches about a foot apart. Between +them the entire rust surface had been disturbed. Something had rested +there, or, more likely, it had been clamped. He swung back a little to +look at the inner side of the girder and saw continuations of the +scratches that terminated in round spots. When he leaned forward to +look at the outer side, the marks were there, but so slight that they +wouldn't be noticeable unless one were looking for them.</p> + +<p>His brows creased. He couldn't think of anything that would make marks +just like those. He wished he had brought a camera. A photo would have +given them something to study later.</p> + +<p>Then, as he turned and started back, something whistled over his head +and slapped sharply into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> upright girder. His first thought was +that Scotty had thrown a pebble or something to attract his attention, +but when he looked, Scotty was facing the other way.</p> + +<p>The whistle and slap came again. This time he looked up, and the +strength drained from his knees. A few inches over his head were +silvery splashes against the rusty surface, and they were the silvery +marks of splattered lead!</p> + +<p>He was being shot at!</p> + +<p>Rick reacted like a suddenly released spring. He dropped to his knees, +his hands reaching for a hold on the girder. They hooked over the +inner edge and he rolled free on the opposite side. For an instant he +dangled in space, then he dropped, his knees flexing to take the shock +of landing. It wasn't much of a drop, a little over fourteen feet. And +as he dropped he yelled Scotty's name.</p> + +<p>Scotty started for him on a dead run, but Rick's yell stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Start the boat and cast off!"</p> + +<p>Then Rick's legs flew as he ran for the launch. For the moment, both +of them were cut off from Creek House by the high board fence. But to +get clear they would have to come out of the fence shelter and into +the 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, "Stay +close to the reef and pick up speed. Get going."</p> + +<p>The launch was already in motion. Rick dropped into the seat next to +Scotty and his pal pushed the gas pedal all the way. The nose lifted +and the stern dug in.</p> + +<p>Rick turned to watch, and as the second floor of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> Creek House came +into view, he said, "Give it all you've got. Cut sharply across Salt +Creek and the rushes will cover us."</p> + +<p>"Hang on!" Scotty snapped. He threw the wheel hard over and the launch +rocked up like a banking plane, then he leveled off and the boat shot +across the creek's mouth to safety. Only then did he turn to Rick. +"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Someone took two shots at me," Rick replied shakily. "And dollars to +dill pickles it was our pal Carrots, because I didn't hear the shots."</p> + +<p>"That air rifle," Scotty said. His mouth tightened. "I can't wait to +get my hands on that little playmate. Did he miss you by much?"</p> + +<p>"About six inches. Both shots hit the same place, within an inch of +each other."</p> + +<p>Scotty frowned thoughtfully. "Then my guess is that he wasn't trying +to hit you. If he's good enough to place two shots like that, he +wouldn't have any trouble picking you off. Did you see him?"</p> + +<p>"No. I saw a window open just before I got down to look at the marks."</p> + +<p>"Anything to them?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Rick said. He was still a little shaken. "Listen, what +about reporting this to the police?"</p> + +<p>Scotty shook his head. "No proof. No witnesses. It would be your word +against his, because he could claim he was just target practicing and +that you weren't on the tower when he fired. He could even claim he +didn't fire the shots, because the slugs would be so spattered that +the police couldn't make anything of them."</p> + +<p>"I can see him laughing his head off," Rick said bit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>terly. "First, +because of dumping the fish scoop, and now because he sent us +hightailing out of there like a couple of frightened jack rabbits."</p> + +<p>"It would have been stupid to stay and get shot at," Scotty pointed +out. "Even if he is a good shot, he might accidentally clip you."</p> + +<p>Rick had to admit the truth of that. "Just the same," he said, "we're +going back and build a fire under Mister Carrots. Wait and see!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h2>Night Watch</h2> + + +<p>Less than a half-hour after arriving at Spindrift, Rick and Scotty +were back at Smugglers' Reef. But this time they were in the Cub. With +Scotty operating Rick's speed graphic camera, they took several photos +of Creek House, Salt Creek, and Brendan's Marsh from varying +altitudes. Then Rick swung in a wide circle, losing altitude, and +leveled off only a hundred feet over the marsh. He was headed straight +for Creek House.</p> + +<p>Scotty paused in putting the camera in its case and looked at him.</p> + +<p>Rick winked. "Going to see if the Kelsos are home."</p> + +<p>The Cub flashed across Salt Creek and Rick pulled the control wheel +back into his lap. The small plane shot upward in a zoom that just +cleared the hotel, then at the top of the zoom Rick did a fast wing +over and started back.</p> + +<p>"I know you can fly," Scotty said calmly, "but don't try to roll your +wheels on the roof."</p> + +<p>Rick shot across the hotel within five feet of the chimney and dropped +so low that his prop wash flat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>tened the reeds in the marsh. Then, +climbing again, he swung wide and went over Seaford at a legal +altitude. He was, even the critical Gus admitted, a safe-and-sane +flier, but the temptation to get back at Carrots Kelso a little was +too much. High over the town, he turned to Scotty. "I didn't see +anyone. Now, if you were in the house and a crazy pilot buzzed you +twice, what would you do?"</p> + +<p>"Run out and look," Scotty said promptly.</p> + +<p>"Uhuh." Rick was enjoying himself. Whether his scheme worked or not, +he liked it. "And if the plane was out of sight, what would you do +then?"</p> + +<p>"I'd go far away from the house, so it wouldn't block my view, and +look for it."</p> + +<p>"The farthest you can get away from Creek House, without running into +the fence, is at the end of the pier."</p> + +<p>Scotty broke into laughter. "I hope I never have you for an enemy. +What'll you bet Carrots doesn't go to the end of the pier?"</p> + +<p>"No bets. But I'm hoping."</p> + +<p>Rick turned inland. When he was out of sight of the town, he lost +altitude in a tight spiral over Salt Creek. At five hundred feet, he +banked around and followed the creek, his throttle wide open. As the +Cub flashed over Salt Creek Bridge, he put the plane in a shallow +dive. Creek House loomed and he let out a yell of triumph.</p> + +<p>Carrots Kelso was standing on the end of the pier, looking at the sky!</p> + +<p>Rick pointed the nose of the Cub directly at him and held it there. He +saw Carrots turn at the noise of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> plane, saw his mouth open to +yell and his eyes pop. Rick hauled the stick back into his lap and +kicked left rudder. As the Cub spun around he banged Scotty with his +free hand and chortled with glee.</p> + +<p>Carrots, afraid for his life, had gone headlong into the creek.</p> + +<p>"That pays him back for shooting at you," Scotty said with +satisfaction. "Bet he was more scared than you were. But we still owe +him for those fish."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two of the photos proved excellent for their purposes. Scotty, who had +taken an interest in developing and printing, made a 10 by 14-inch +enlargement of each. They spent most of Thursday studying them, +talking over their various clues endlessly, and waiting for Cap'n +Mike's call. Shortly after supper on Thursday night he did call, but +only to say he had nothing to report and that he hadn't been able to +talk to Jim Killian. The fisherman was taking a few days off to visit +his mother in Pennsylvania.</p> + +<p>"A fine time for him to go vacationing," Rick said, "when he might be +able to supply some essential information. I've got an idea, Cap'n," +he added. "Can you find out what source the automatic light uses for +electricity? See if it has its own power plant or whether there's a +cable that runs along the reef. If there is, see if there's a junction +box or a switch or anything."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike promised to have the information next time he called.</p> + +<p>They were too restless to sit still and read. Rick had thought about +asking his father to help him check the infrared spotlight in the lab, +but Hartson Brant was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> preoccupied with a scientific analysis problem, +so Rick decided to check his new invention by actual use.</p> + +<p>Dismal was the subject. The boys took him for a walk to the backside +of the island where there was no light at all except for dim +moonlight. Scotty carried the power supply on a strap over his +shoulder while Rick carried the camera and its attachments. The thing +was uncanny, even when its operation was understood. To the naked eye, +Dismal was just a vague blur under the trees. But with the infrared +searchlight on him, Rick could see him through the telescope as though +it were white light. He shot a few feet of film, then took it to the +photo lab. He could develop short lengths by dipping them into bottles +of solution, although full lengths would have to go to a New York lab +for processing.</p> + +<p>Projecting the test length cleared up his questions. The camera worked +beautifully at distances up to three hundred yards. Beyond that, +although things still could be seen, the lighting was poor and +definition hazy.</p> + +<p>He spent more time in the darkroom winding the infrared film on +hundred-foot rolls and placing them in light-tight cans, then he +reloaded the camera with a full spool. That done, there was nothing to +do but wait and try to read.</p> + +<p>On Friday night, Scotty glanced up from the leather chair in Rick's +room. "What time is it?"</p> + +<p>Rick was lying on the bed, studying the ceiling and working on the +problem of the tower scratches and the shifting current. He looked at +his watch. "Ten of nine. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Almost time for the trawlers to be getting back to Seaford."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"As though I didn't know it! Unless we get a call within the next +half-hour, we might as well forget it for tonight, too."</p> + +<p>Scotty went back to his book. Rick resumed staring at the ceiling. It +had occurred to him that there was an old wrecker's trick, well used +in the days of sailing ships. The trick was to extinguish a navigation +light so ships would run aground and be easy prey for the wreckers. +And sometimes the wreckers helped out by raising false lights. Now if +the automatic light at the tip of the reef could be cut off, and if a +false light were raised on the old tower . . . they just had to talk +with Captain Killian! Bill Lake thought a shift of current and a patch +of mist had been responsible for him losing the light and putting him +off course. But what if Smugglers' Light had been cut off and a false +light lighted on the old tower?</p> + +<p>Rick snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"</p> + +<p>Scotty looked up. "Got what?"</p> + +<p>Just then the phone rang.</p> + +<p>The boys almost fell over each other in their haste. Rick got to it +first and said a breathless hello.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Mike speaking. Rick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Brad just turned up Salt Creek. I'll be in my shack waiting to hear +about it, boy. And say, the automatic light works by a cable. Cable +comes down the pole in front of the Creek House fence and goes into a +metal box. From there it goes underground to the light."</p> + +<p>"Thanks a million," Rick said exultantly. "We'll see you sometime +tonight, Cap'n." He hung up and turned to Scotty. "Let's go!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>They ran down the stairs and almost barged into Mrs. Brant. "Got to +hurry, Mom."</p> + +<p>"Where to, Rick?"</p> + +<p>"Seaford," he said. "We'll take the boat. Don't worry, I don't think +we'll be out too late."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brant's eyes were troubled. The boys had told the Brants +something about events at Seaford. "Be careful, you two," she said.</p> + +<p>"We will," Scotty assured her.</p> + +<p>They had every intention of being extremely careful. Hartson Brant, +who had been on expeditions with the boys, had every confidence in +their ability to look out for themselves. But Mrs. Brant, like all +mothers, had some reservations.</p> + +<p>As they ran down the stairs to the landing, Scotty asked, "What was it +you said you had just before the phone rang?"</p> + +<p>"Tell you when we get underway," Rick returned, and as they sped +through the water at over thirty miles an hour toward Seaford, he did +so.</p> + +<p>"I think I know how the <i>Sea Belle</i> was wrecked. But if I'm right, the +Kelsos were taking a terrific chance."</p> + +<p>"They're the kind who take chances." Scotty peered through the +windshield at the dark sea. Behind them, their wake was white and +turbulent.</p> + +<p>"Well, here's how I figure. The Kelsos knew there was no sea traffic +off Smugglers' Reef except for the Seaford fleet, because the coastal +traffic moves pretty far offshore. They also knew that no one goes +down the old road past the hotels at night because there's nothing +there. And anyway, if a car came, they could see its lights."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick paused. "There's a hole in this theory. In fact, there are a +couple of them. I'm guessing that Tom Tyler was the first skipper to +get into port a good percentage of the time. If he was, and if they +knew it, they could arrange with Brad Marbek to stick close behind him +and give them some sort of signal. If they had glasses on the ships, +they could see even a flashlight, couldn't they?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"And if they were at the very top of Creek House, in the attic room, +they could see the lights of the ships coming in before the ships saw +Smugglers' Light!"</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at?" Scotty demanded.</p> + +<p>"Smugglers' Light is small. It's strictly for local navigation. Now +suppose one of them was in the attic with glasses, waiting for the +ships. Tom Tyler comes over the horizon first, Brad Marbek right +behind him. Brad makes a signal. Maybe he blinks his masthead light. +By that, they know the next ships are pretty far behind and Tom Tyler +is in front. The man in the attic signals. They turn off Smugglers' +Light from the junction box in front of the hotel and light up their +own light on the crossbeam of the old tower. When Captain Tyler comes +over the horizon far enough to see the light, what he sees is the +Kelsos' light. But he doesn't know that. He gives it leeway as usual; +he's used to passing it close because there's plenty of water. Then, +when he's within a short distance of it, the light goes off. He keeps +on course, thinking something has happened to the light, and piles on +the reef."</p> + +<p>"And as he piles up, the real light is put back on!" Scotty +exclaimed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," Rick said excitedly. "And the man with the light in the tower +just removes it, gets down, and runs for Creek House before the men on +the <i>Sea Belle</i> have even picked themselves up!"</p> + +<p>"It makes sense," Scotty agreed. "And how! Of course Tom Tyler knows +he's been tricked the minute he hits, and he knows why. So does Brad +Marbek, but he's in on it. Bill Lake, who's pretty far behind, thinks +the shift in the light is due to a patch of mist and a strong current. +But how about Captain Killian? He was closer to the light."</p> + +<p>"That's why it's important to get his story," Rick said. His eyes had +been scanning the dark coast line ceaselessly. Now, picking up the +start of Brendan's Marsh, he turned the wheel and swung out to sea.</p> + +<p>Their study of the photographs had convinced them that the best way to +approach Creek House was from the rear. To do that, they had to pass +far enough out at sea so their engine noise would not be too +noticeable and attract the attention of the Kelsos. Rick took a quick +look around and saw no other boat lights. He leaned forward and +snapped off their own.</p> + +<p>In a few moments they saw the lights of Creek House and Smugglers' +Light. When they were well past it, Rick turned inshore, throttled +down to make as little noise as possible. There was a short dock in +front of the abandoned Sandy Shores Hotel. He gauged distance +carefully in the dim light and let his momentum carry him to it. +Scotty jumped out and made the bow fast while Rick cut the engine +completely and hurried to secure the stern. In a moment they were on +the dock together looking toward the Creek House.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let's go," Rick whispered.</p> + +<p>They made their way as noiselessly as possible behind the old hotel, +then picked a careful path through accumulated junk past the rears of +the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, and the Shore Mansions. Twice they +had to climb rusted fences and Rick was grateful that they had put on +old clothes. Presently they were against the Creek House fence.</p> + +<p>He touched Scotty's arm and gestured. Then he led the way toward the +place where the fence stopped at the marsh. They had planned the +adventure up to the end of the fence. After that they would have to +take advantage of whatever offered.</p> + +<p>They hadn't seen in the photograph that the fence extended into the +marsh for a short distance. Rick's first inkling of the fact came when +one foot sank into muck above the shoe top. He let out a soft +exclamation, and when he pulled the foot free it made a sighing sound.</p> + +<p>The boys held a whispered consultation and decided there was nothing +for it but to continue. Rick stepped forward, searching with his foot +for firmer ground. Now and then he found a hummock, but there were +times when he sank to the knee in clinging goo. Fortunately, there +were only a few feet of swamp to navigate.</p> + +<p>He reached the end of the fence and stopped, peering around it.</p> + +<p>There were lights on the pier, and the <i>Albatross</i> was tied up to it, +but the lights were too dim to illuminate anything over a few yards +away. He crouched and moved over a little, making room for Scotty. +Together they surveyed the terrain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We can't see much from here," Scotty said, lips against Rick's ear. +"We'll have to get closer."</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. He motioned along the fence, indicating that they should +follow it, then he took the lead again. In a dozen muddy steps they +were out of the marshland and on dry ground again, but Rick had to +exercise utmost care because there was a litter of dry junk that +crackled underfoot. He picked his way carefully, hardly daring to +breathe loudly.</p> + +<p>Once he froze and felt Scotty tense behind him. Brad Marbek and Red +Kelso walked from the hotel to the pier and stood looking upstream. +Their backs were to the boys. Rick started moving again. There were no +lights in the hotel on the fence side. He wanted to reach the safe +darkness of that area before planning their next move. As he went, he +wondered where Carrots was, and what had happened to Brad's crew.</p> + +<p>They reached the dark space between the hotel and the fence without +incident and Rick straightened up with a little breath of relief. Now +what? He reviewed the photograph of the hotel grounds in his mind.</p> + +<p>Scotty tugged his sleeve and pointed. Rick looked up and saw that a +window was open on the first floor. The room behind it was dark. For a +second he was tempted, then he shook his head. Going into the hotel +was dangerous, even though they probably could make their way to an +upper floor and have an unobstructed view from a window. If they were +trapped inside ... he didn't like the thought. At least their retreat +was open while they were out of doors. The top of the fence was within +reach if they jumped. They could swing over it and run. Once outside +the fence, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> Kelsos would have a hard time catching up with them.</p> + +<p>He remembered that the front of the hotel and part of the area on the +creek side contained shrubs, relics of its original landscaping. The +shrubs would give them cover. He touched Scotty and motioned. Then he +started around the front of the hotel, crossing the driveway, which +led into the grounds through a gate, closed now and looking like part +of the fence.</p> + +<p>The front of the hotel was dark. Swiftly he went past the porch, +moving through the shrubbery with extreme caution. He gained the +corner nearest the creek safely, Scotty behind him. When he peered +around, he had a good view of the dock. Red Kelso and Brad Marbek were +still talking. No one else was in sight. Somewhere inside, a door +banged. Rick stiffened. That must be Carrots, or one of the crew.</p> + +<p>He moved forward, spotting a hedge that had marked the edge of the +garden. If they crouched behind that, they would have an unobstructed +view. He dodged a shrub and reached the hedge; it was just waist-high. +He sank to his knees and parted the twigs, searching for a good view +through them. Beside him, Scotty knelt and did the same.</p> + +<p>He put his mouth close to Scotty's ear. "This is a good place," he +whispered.</p> + +<p>"It's a fine place," a loud voice said. "Get up, both of you!"</p> + +<p>Rick whirled, his heart stopping. He looked straight across the front +sight of a rifle into the grinning face of Carrots Kelso!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h2>Captured</h2> + + +<p>"I figured it was time for another look around," Carrots said, "so I +came out the side door and went around the back and up the side by the +fence, then crossed over by the front. And just as I got to the +corner, who did I see but our two wise-guy pals!" He poked the rifle +in Rick's back by way of emphasis.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso and Brad Marbek looked at the two boys and then at each +other. Marbek looked up the creek nervously. "Better get 'em inside +under cover," he said in his high voice. "Jimmy, take 'em into the +cabin."</p> + +<p>Rick was seething inwardly, but he gave no sign. He was angry with +himself. He should have known that there would be a guard.</p> + +<p>He walked down the pier, Scotty at his side, the others following. At +Carrots' direction he climbed over the side of the trawler and went +into the small cabin aft of the wheelhouse.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso gestured toward a built-in bunk. "Sit down, both of you." He +went to the single window and slid the curtains shut.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>Carrots took up a position in the corner from which he could cover the +two boys. Brad Marbek pushed into the cabin and closed the door behind +him. For a dozen heartbeats there was silence.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso broke it. "What now?" he asked heavily. "We've got 'em. What +do we do with 'em?"</p> + +<p>Rick spoke up with much more boldness than he felt. "Nothing. Half a +dozen people know we came here."</p> + +<p>Marbek and Kelso exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>"We can't just let 'em go," Carrots said. His glance at Rick was +vindictive. "This is the smart joker that dove at me in his airplane. +I owe him somethin' for that."</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, Jimmy," Red Kelso said. "We've got to think about this."</p> + +<p>There was a hail from outside. Marbek started. "Red! Come outside. +Jimmy, watch these two."</p> + +<p>Carrots lifted the rifle a little. The two older men went out and +closed the door. Rick, listening carefully, thought he could hear +oars.</p> + +<p>Scotty spoke up. "You're a good shot with that thing, Rick says. You +put two shots right together over his head."</p> + +<p>"I should have picked him off," Carrots snarled. "I ought to put a +shot in his head right now for makin' me jump off the dock."</p> + +<p>"That evened us up," Rick said quietly. "You dumped the fish on us."</p> + +<p>Carrots grinned his satisfaction. "You're tootin' I did! And that +ain't all I'm goin' to do to you, either."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>Carrots' thin lips tightened. "You got warned. Twice. What happens to +you is on your own head."</p> + +<p>The door banged open and Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came in again. For +some reason they seemed in better spirits. Marbek was grinning.</p> + +<p>Kelso stood before the two boys, his seaweed-green eyes surveying them +coldly. "All right. Talk. What did you want in here?"</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty remained quiet.</p> + +<p>"Don't make me beat it out of you," Kelso warned.</p> + +<p>Rick thought quickly. He jerked his thumb at Carrots. "You can blame +him. First he dumped half a ton of menhaden on us and then he took a +shot at me while I was climbing the old tower."</p> + +<p>"Why were you climbin' the tower?" Marbek demanded quickly.</p> + +<p>Rick shrugged, nonchalantly, he hoped. "Why does anyone climb a tower? +Just for the fun of it."</p> + +<p>Carrots snorted. "Nuts! Then why didn't you go all the way to the +top?"</p> + +<p>Red Kelso's eyes swiveled from his son to the boys. "Let's cut the +comedy," he snapped. "Jimmy had nothin' to do with your comin' here. +Now give us a straight story or you'll suffer for it!"</p> + +<p>Rick's mind was working at top speed. He couldn't tell them +everything, but he might be able to stall.</p> + +<p>"You warned us," he said. "Twice. Anyway, we thought it was you, then +your son just admitted it." He grinned at Kelso. "We had to find out +why you were warning us, didn't we?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>Red looked at Carrots and then at Brad. "I told you it was a mistake +to try to warn 'em off," he grated. "All right. Did you find out why +we warned you?"</p> + +<p>"We didn't have time," Scotty pointed out. "We had just arrived when +we got caught."</p> + +<p>Brad Marbek's high voice was cold. "Do you think my coming here is +funny?"</p> + +<p>Scotty's reply was equally cold. "You're not trying to kid anyone that +you tie up at this pier before unloading your fish just because you +want to be sociable, are you?"</p> + +<p>Marbek took a step forward. Red Kelso's hand on his shoulder +restrained him. Rick held his breath, wondering if Scotty had said too +much.</p> + +<p>"Okay, you snoopers," Red said. "You're goin' to take a nice long look +around, see? You're goin' to do exactly what we say, and you're goin' +to find out for yourselves just what's goin' on here. Now how do you +like that?"</p> + +<p>"Fine," Rick said feebly. There didn't seem to be anything else to +say.</p> + +<p>"Start at the house," Brad growled. "Get goin'."</p> + +<p>On deck, Rick took a quick look around. Nothing had changed, nor was +anyone in sight. With Carrots' rifle at their backs, he and Scotty +marched to the side door of the hotel. Inside Red Kelso pointed at +another door. "Open it and go downstairs. Step on it, we haven't all +night."</p> + +<p>Rick caught his breath. Why were they forcing them into the cellar? A +little fearfully, he went down the stairs as Red snapped on lights.</p> + +<p>At the bottom of the steps, the three faced them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> "Start lookin'," +Brad commanded. "Go on. Stick your noses in every corner. Get busy!" +He gave Scotty a shove that sent him staggering in the direction of +the coal cellars. Then Red Kelso gave Rick a hard push that landed him +on his knees.</p> + +<p>The boy stood up again and looked around him uncertainly. "What do you +want us to do?"</p> + +<p>"Look," Red snapped. "That's what you came for. Look in every blasted +corner until you're satisfied there's nothin' more to look for. Now +get goin'!"</p> + +<p>And Rick and Scotty looked. Even though they knew now nothing would be +found in the old house, they had no choice. With the three hovering +over them they searched in corners, under stairs, in bins. They +sounded walls and rapped floors. As they passed through the kitchen, +four men were playing cards, evidently members of Brad's crew. They +inspected the butler's pantry and even the refrigerator, then they +were pushed on through the other first-floor rooms and up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Rick was tired of the whole affair, but every time he hesitated, Brad +or Red gave him a headlong shove that kept him moving, and always +Carrots was behind with the rifle. When there were no bulbs in the +rooms a flashlight Red produced provided illumination. Room by +tiresome room they worked their way to the attic.</p> + +<p>From the attic they were run down the stairs again and out into the +grounds and forced to cover every inch of land. Then they were taken +to the garage-boathouse and made to work their way through what had +been the servants' quarters. Downstairs, they inspected the only car, +and Rick automatically made a mental note of the make and the New York +license number. Then they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> looked under the seats and into the rope +locker of a motor whaleboat that was the only craft in the boathouse, +and they were forced to crawl under the boathouse where it rested on +piles.</p> + +<p>"Now," Brad Marbek said grimly, "let's take a look at the trawler."</p> + +<p>"Do we have to?" Scotty said wearily. "We know you wouldn't make us +look if there was anything to be seen."</p> + +<p>Brad's big hand landed in the middle of his back, smashing him toward +the dock. "March!" he commanded.</p> + +<p>The tiresome routine started again. Through wheelhouse and cabin and +galley and enginehouse and rope and gear lockers they hunted, picking +up accumulated layers of dirt and grease on the way, until finally +only the huge fish holds were left.</p> + +<p>Rick looked into the forward one and thought, "Oh, no!" He started to +protest, but Brad's open hand caught him on the side of the face. +"Dig!" the skipper commanded. "You asked for it. Dig!"</p> + +<p>And dig they did, through tons of stinking menhaden and cold ice until +they choked and their mouths felt full of scales. Once or twice they +protested, but there was always big Brad Marbek ready to strike out +and Carrots and Red Kelso backing him up.</p> + +<p>An eternity later they clawed their way up the pile of fish in the +last hold.</p> + +<p>Rick took a deep breath of clean air. "Anything else?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Carrots stepped forward. "You poor jokers got dirty," he said with +false concern. "You need a bath." He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> pointed to the end of the dock. +"Go on, jump in." His rifle lifted menacingly.</p> + +<p>That, at least, was no hardship. Rick walked to the end of the dock +and dropped into the water, savoring is cool cleanliness. Scotty was +right beside him.</p> + +<p>Overhead, the three waited, and Carrots' rifle was still on them. +"Back to the bank," he commanded.</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty swam, clambered up on shore, and stood waiting.</p> + +<p>"Hike."</p> + +<p>They were herded like two sheep to the front gate. Red Kelso produced +a key and the gate swung open.</p> + +<p>"You had your look," he said. "You came to spy and we helped you out. +Now you know there's nothin' wrong here. We warned you because we +didn't like you, see? And that's all. Now get goin' and don't ever +come back, or we'll work you over so you'll never be the same again. +Now git!"</p> + +<p>They were shoved violently forward and landed sprawling on the hard +macadam road. Behind them the gate slammed shut, and as they got to +their feet and looked at each other ruefully, the sound of Carrots' +raucous laughter was like salt on raw flesh.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h2>The Hearing</h2> + + +<p>"You two have certainly got your nerve, going back to Seaford after +that," Jerry Webster said.</p> + +<p>"We'll stay away from the Kelsos and Brad Marbek. Don't worry about +that," Rick assured him. "But we're not giving up, are we, Scotty?"</p> + +<p>"Not on your life," Scotty replied flatly.</p> + +<p>Jerry's car bounced over Salt Creek Bridge and sped toward the Seaford +turnoff. The boys had phoned him early in the morning and found that +he had learned about Tom Tyler's hearing during his routine phone +calls to the Seaford authorities, and that he was going down to cover +it.</p> + +<p>They had met him at the Whiteside dock, and on the way down had +brought him up to date on their part of the case, including their +humiliating experience of the night before.</p> + +<p>"So your theory about smuggling must be wrong," Jerry said. +"Otherwise, you'd have found something."</p> + +<p>"I'm not convinced," Rick argued. "It's still the only answer that +fits."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then where were the smuggled goods?"</p> + +<p>"We could have gotten there too late," Scotty reminded. "If it was a +small shipment, it could have been unloaded and disposed of before we +showed up."</p> + +<p>"Disposed of? How?" Jerry wanted to know.</p> + +<p>Rick recalled that he had heard the sound of oars while in the cabin. +Red and Brad had rushed out right away, too, after hearing a hail. +"They might have taken the stuff up the creek," he mused. "They might +even have had a truck waiting at the bridge. There's not much traffic, +so it wouldn't be too great a risk. And even if a car came, they could +pretend the truck was changing a tire or something until it passed."</p> + +<p>"That's reasonable," Jerry admitted. "Did you talk it over with Cap'n +Mike?"</p> + +<p>Rick grinned ruefully at the memory of the two soaked, bedraggled, +filthy specimens who had knocked on Cap'n Mike's door last night. "We +were in no mood even to think about it," he said. "But we did find out +one thing. Cap'n Mike said it would be easy for anyone to disconnect +Smugglers' Light and then reconnect it. All he would need would be an +insulated screw driver."</p> + +<p>"And that's not all," Scotty added. "He said Tom Tyler was first one +back from the fishing grounds eight times out of ten because the <i>Sea +Belle</i> was the fastest boat in the fleet and the best handled."</p> + +<p>The more Rick thought about it, the more he was convinced that his +theory of the wrecking of the trawler would hold water. Cap'n Mike had +plugged up another hole, too. Rick had wondered about the backside of +the light. He had noticed that there was a red sector on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +townside, a common method of construction on lights of that sort. On +Cap'n Mike's chart, shaded areas showed how the light worked. It was +visible from the seaside in an arc of 180 degrees. It was dark in the +quadrant toward the marsh and red in the quadrant toward the town. But +warehouses and pier sheds blocked off the light from almost all of the +town except Million Dollar Row, and since the red portion would be out +for only a short time, it was long odds against anyone noticing it or +investigating if they did.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty sound," Rick said. "Only I wonder if we'll ever prove +it?"</p> + +<p>"Not in time for this morning's hearing, that's for sure," Scotty +commented. "Maybe Captain Killian will have something to say. If he +ever gets back."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike had tried unsuccessfully last night to see Jim Killian. He +was still visiting his mother.</p> + +<p>Jerry's car rolled down the main street of Seaford toward the town +hall. Rick could see that an unusual number of cars was lined up along +the curbs. The hearing was attracting a great deal of interest, as +could have been expected. He wondered if the Kelsos would be there.</p> + +<p>Jerry pulled into a convenient parking space. As they got out, he +asked Rick, "Got your camera?"</p> + +<p>Rick held it up. "We've got our press cards, too. That makes us legal +spectators for a change."</p> + +<p>"For a change is right," Scotty said. "Lead the way, Jerry."</p> + +<p>The hearing room was on the second floor. Jerry pushed his way through +the crowd in the corridor with Rick and Scotty following, and found +the entrance. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> police officer stopped them at the door, then +permitted them to enter when they showed their press cards. Rick +wondered if the hearing would be closed to the public, but when he got +inside he saw that every seat was taken. He recognized a face here and +there, including that of Bill Lake. The others he recognized were +fishermen he had seen during their trip to the pier with Cap'n Mike. +Evidently some of them were taking the day off because of the hearing.</p> + +<p>The room was actually a small courtroom. Like most courtrooms, it had +a low fence dividing the spectators from the participants. At a table +inside the fence, Tom Tyler was seated with four other men. Rick +guessed from their appearance that they must be the members of his +crew. One had an arm in a sling and he remembered Cap'n Mike had said +the wreck had caused one broken arm.</p> + +<p>Jerry spoke to a man who seemed to be someone of authority, and they +were directed to seats in the front row. Across the aisle Rick saw +Mrs. Tyler and the little girl who had been with her on that first +night. The captain's wife looked pale, but she seemed composed. Then +he switched his glance to the captain himself.</p> + +<p>Tom Tyler seemed thinner in the few days since the wreck of his ship. +He stared at the table before him, seemingly oblivious to the murmur +of voices in the room. Rick felt compassion for him. If the theory +proved correct, Tom Tyler was the victim of unscrupulous men who had +wrecked his ship deliberately, just to remove danger from their path.</p> + +<p>He speculated about what might have caused the actual decision to +wreck the <i>Sea Belle</i>. There was only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> one sensible conclusion. +Captain Tyler must have used the trawler to spy on Brad Marbek. +Wrecking the ship would serve a double purpose: it would remove the +possibility of further spying on Brad and it would warn Tyler that the +smugglers meant business. After that, simply telling him that his +family would suffer if he kept on would strike home. Until the wreck, +he probably had been inclined to treat Kelso's warning lightly.</p> + +<p>A door to the left of the judge's rostrum opened and three men came +out. One was a Coast Guard commander. The other two were civilians. A +whisper from Jerry informed Rick that they were officers of the United +States Maritime Commission.</p> + +<p>Rick turned to see if the Kelsos or Brad Marbek were in the room. He +was curious about Cap'n Mike, too. While he was searching the rows of +faces, the procedure started. A clerk got up and announced something +about the hearing being held before the duly authorized board of +inquiry in the case of the wrecking on Smugglers' Reef of the motor +vessel <i>Sea Belle</i>, of so many tons, and such and such a registry +number, Thomas Lee Tyler, master, holding licenses numbers so and so. +Jerry nudged Rick and pointed to the camera. Rick nodded and inserted +a flash bulb. He caught the clerk's eye and held up the camera. The +clerk frowned, then motioned him to come inside the rail. Rick did so +and snapped a picture of the tribunal. Then he turned and got a photo +of Tom Tyler and the men at his table, with the audience in the +background. He looked at Jerry. The young reporter nodded, indicating +that two pictures would be enough.</p> + +<p>Rick resumed his seat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>The middle man on the platform leaned over and asked, "Who is +representing Captain Tyler?"</p> + +<p>Tom Tyler stood up. "No one, sir."</p> + +<p>A murmur ran through the courtroom.</p> + +<p>"Captain," the man asked, "do you mean you have come into this hearing +without counsel?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, I'm pleading guilty to whatever the charge is. I don't need a +lawyer for that." Tyler sat down again.</p> + +<p>There was whispered consultation among the three on the bench. Then +the spokesman leaned forward again.</p> + +<p>"Captain, as I understand the facts presented by the officers who +investigated, if you plead guilty you will, in effect, state that you +deliberately wrecked your ship. If you so state, your insurance +company will have no recourse but to ask your arrest on a charge of +barratry. Do you understand that?"</p> + +<p>Tyler's shoulders straightened. "If that's the way it is, sir, I guess +that's the way it is. I'm pleading guilty."</p> + +<p>The murmur in the court rose.</p> + +<p>Rick leaned over to Jerry. "He's scared stiff. He must be, to take +this lying down."</p> + +<p>But if the Kelsos had threatened Mrs. Tyler and their little girl, +there wasn't much else he could do. Wrecking the trawler had shown him +they were capable of carrying out any threat. Rick was glad he had had +presence of mind the night before to say that other people knew he and +Scotty were going to Creek House. He was sure that had the Kelsos and +Brad thought that no one else knew, their fate would have been much +different.</p> + +<p>A hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up into the face of the officer +who had been at the door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You Rick Brant?"</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Mike is outside. Says it's urgent. He wants you and Don Scott."</p> + +<p>"We'll come right away," Rick said. He leaned over and explained to +Jerry. "We'll meet you outside. Come on, Scotty."</p> + +<p>As quietly as possible he and Scotty left the room just as the +spokesman for the board declared that the hearing would proceed.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike was on the steps in front of the town hall. His weathered +face lit up at the sight of the boys and he greeted them with a note +of worry in his voice. "Come on down to the sidewalk out of earshot of +these folks," he said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>They followed him to a place where the crowd thinned out, then Rick +asked, "What's the matter, Cap'n? Anything important come up?"</p> + +<p>"Important? I'll say it's important!" Cap'n Mike leaned forward. "Jim +Killian has disappeared!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h2>The Missing Fisherman</h2> + + +<p>Captain Jim Killian, the fisherman who had been closest to Brad Marbek +and Tom Tyler, and who might have been able to say finally whether +Rick's theory was true or not, was missing!</p> + +<p>"Cap'n, are you sure?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike nodded soberly. "Sure as I can be. That's why I had to talk +to you boys."</p> + +<p>"When did you discover he had disappeared?" Scotty queried. "You said +he had been visiting his mother."</p> + +<p>"That's just it. Took me all this time to remember." Cap'n Mike shook +his white head. "Reckon I'm getting old. His mate said he'd gone to +visit his mother, so I thought no more about it. Until this morning. +Then I remembered. Jim Killian never knew his mother. He was brought +up by an uncle and aunt, both of them dead ten years now. Struck me +all of a sudden. It had sort of been nagging at the back of my head +that something was fishy about that mate's story anyway, so this +morning I went to his house and I collared him."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you get anything out of him?" Rick asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Not much. Jim Killian showed up at his trawler the morning after Tom +Tyler wrecked the <i>Sea Belle</i>. He just told the mate to shove off +without him, and said if anyone asked, he was visiting his mother, who +was sick. And I'm sure that's all the mate knows, except that he knew +Jim Killian didn't have a mother."</p> + +<p>Rick pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He showed up himself? Then he must +have left of his own free will. At least he wasn't kidnapped. But why +would he run away?"</p> + +<p>His eyes met Scotty's and he knew his pal was thinking the same thing.</p> + +<p>"He was threatened," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Looks like it. Suppose he had let a word drop that night about +something being a little off the beam about Smugglers' Light?" It +sounded reasonable to Rick. "The Kelsos would have paid him a visit +for sure."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike wagged his head sadly. "I sure pinned a lot of hope on Jim +Killian. After you explained what might have happened to Tom, I was +sure Jim might have something real useful to add. But it looks mighty +bad now."</p> + +<p>"Mighty bad," Rick agreed. Their effort to catch the Kelsos red-handed +had boomeranged on them and now what might be proof of their theory +had vanished.</p> + +<p>"We'd better find him," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"How?" Cap'n Mike asked hopelessly. "We can't go to the police, 'cause +Jim went off of his own will, which he has a perfect right to do."</p> + +<p>For a moment Rick was about to suggest that they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> could have the +police hunt him as a material witness, then he rejected the idea. +Witness to what? Tom Tyler had admitted running the <i>Sea Belle</i> on the +reef purposely, or next thing to it. No, the only solution was to find +Captain Killian. But where to begin?</p> + +<p>"Put yourself in his place," he suggested to Cap'n Mike. "You've known +him a long time. If you were hiding out, where would you go?"</p> + +<p>"I've thought about it," the old seaman said. "Don't do no good. This +is the first time Jim Killian has left town in twenty years, except to +go into Newark or New York for a day's shopping."</p> + +<p>"Where did he live?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"Little Cape Cod cottage over near Tom Tyler. Lived by himself."</p> + +<p>"We might start there," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"Good a place as any," Cap'n Mike agreed. "Let's get going."</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "We have to wait for Jerry. Let's sit in the car. +I don't think the hearing will last very long. Tom Tyler is pleading +guilty."</p> + +<p>They walked to Jerry's car and settled down to wait. Through the +windshield Rick watched the townfolk clustered around the courthouse +steps and noted that they weren't talking much. He guessed everyone in +town knew there was something extraordinary about the wreck of the +<i>Sea Belle</i> and he wondered if anyone suspected smuggling activities +at Creek House.</p> + +<p>He said aloud, "If the Kelsos and Brad Marbek took the stuff up to +Salt Creek Bridge before we got there, what boat did they use? The +boat we saw in the boathouse was dry, and the boats on the <i>Albatross</i> +were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> hanging on the davits. Maybe we're all wet on that, too."</p> + +<p>"Maybe," Scotty agreed glumly. "I've never seen a deal with so many +dead ends."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike sounded alarmed. "You're not giving up, are you, boys?"</p> + +<p>"Not a chance. We'll get to the bottom of this sooner or later." +Scotty spoke for both of them.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike pointed. "The crowd's coming out."</p> + +<p>Evidently the hearing was over, because those who had waited inside +the building and those lucky enough to get seats were coming out. +Presently Jerry Webster came out, too, tucking his notes into his +jacket pocket. He joined them in the car and greeted Cap'n Mike.</p> + +<p>"You look like three mourners," he told them. "What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Rick explained briefly, then asked, "Got any bright ideas?"</p> + +<p>"Afraid not," Jerry replied. "Finding someone is a tough job even for +the police with all their facilities. I don't know how you'd even +start."</p> + +<p>"We thought of looking his house over," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't do that," Jerry replied quickly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"You said he left of his own accord, didn't you? You can bet he locked +his house up tight. If you try to get in, you'll be guilty of breaking +and entering. And even if he left a door open, you've no right to go +in. You can bet the neighbors will be on the phone to the constable's +office if they see anyone fooling around the house."</p> + +<p>"You're right," Rick agreed gloomily.</p> + +<p>"There goes his mate now," Cap'n Mike said. "Must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> have been at the +hearing." He pointed to a slender man in a cap and lumberjack's shirt +who was crossing the street in front of town hall.</p> + +<p>"Think he told you all he knows?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Don't know. Maybe he did, +and again maybe not. Chick's a quiet one. Never says much and there's +no way of telling what goes on inside his head."</p> + +<p>"Let's follow him," Scotty suggested.</p> + +<p>Jerry looked at him. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"For lack of anything else to do," Scotty said. "Can't tell. We've +nothing to lose, anyway."</p> + +<p>Rick watched the mate reach the opposite sidewalk, then stand +uncertainly for a moment, looking back across the street. Then, +evidently satisfied, he started off at a brisk walk. It was almost as +though he had looked to see if anyone were coming after him, Rick +thought.</p> + +<p>"Scotty's right," he said quickly. "Let's go after him."</p> + +<p>Jerry started the car and pulled away from the curb. He grinned at +Rick. "Good thing it's Saturday. No paper until Monday morning, so +I've plenty of time. But tell me what to do. I'm green at this +business."</p> + +<p>"Go slow," Rick said. "Watch him."</p> + +<p>The mate reached a corner, looked behind him, then turned down the +side street.</p> + +<p>"Go after him," Rick directed. "Go right on by him and don't anyone +look at him. Cap'n, better crouch down. He knows you, but he doesn't +know the rest of us."</p> + +<p>Jerry swung into the side street and picked up speed. From the corner +of his eye Rick saw the mate walking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> rapidly. He told Jerry to turn +right at the next corner and to slow down. The blocks were short; the +mate would pass the corner in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where he lives?" Rick asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"Not on this side of town. He lives out in the district toward the +main road."</p> + +<p>"Any guesses about where he might be heading?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe Jake's Grill. It's this way and I've seen him there."</p> + +<p>Rick directed Jerry to go on to the next corner and wait. Then he +turned and watched the corner they had just passed. If the mate kept +straight on the side street, they would go around the block. If he +turned down the street they had taken, they would simply round the +corner again.</p> + +<p>The mate turned and came after them.</p> + +<p>"Around the corner," Rick directed. "Cap'n, where is this Jake's +Grill?"</p> + +<p>"If you'd turned left instead of right just then," Cap'n Mike replied +as Jerry finished the turn, "you'd have been about at it. It's halfway +down the block."</p> + +<p>Rick made a quick decision. "Okay, here's where we split up. I'll get +out and go to Jake's. The rest of you keep trailing him. If he goes +into Jake's, turn around and park at the next corner where you can see +the entrance. If he doesn't, follow him and pick me up later."</p> + +<p>As they nodded assent, he got out of the car and waved Jerry on, then +he walked swiftly in the opposite direction. He crossed the street +from which they had just turned, and caught a glimpse of the mate from +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> corner of his eye. The man was still walking rapidly. Rick paid +no attention to him. He walked at a moderate pace down the street, +pausing once to look in a shop-window. A side glance showed him the +mate, still coming. Rick resumed walking and came to Jake's Grill, a +shabby sort of place with only a half dozen customers. He walked in +without hesitation and took a seat at the counter.</p> + +<p>The counterman came up and wiped the counter clean in front of him +with a rag that might have been white once upon a time. "What'll it +be?"</p> + +<p>"Coffee," Rick said. He was in a good position, because the back of +the counter was lined with a flyspecked mirror through which he could +see the whole restaurant.</p> + +<p>The mate pushed the door open and paused at the entrance. He reached +in his pocket and brought out a crumpled handful of bills and some +change. He counted the change, then searched the pocket for more. +There was none. He started for the counter.</p> + +<p>He must need more change. For what? Rick's quick survey of the place +showed him a phone booth in one corner. Quickly, as the mate +approached, he fished out a dollar and thrust it at the counterman. +"Got any change? I have to make a phone call."</p> + +<p>The counterman took the bill and walked to the cash register. The mate +cast a quick glance at Rick, then called, "Sam, I need some change, +too. Give me some nickles and dimes for this half-buck." He tossed a +fifty-cent piece on the counter.</p> + +<p>Rick relaxed. Perhaps some of the townfolk had seen his and Scotty's +pictures in the paper, but evidently the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> mate wasn't one of them. +There had been no recognition in the man's eyes.</p> + +<p>The counterman handed Rick a dollar in change and gave the mate some +smaller change. He winked. "Gotta call yer girl, Chick?"</p> + +<p>"Sure have," the mate answered. He had an odd voice, as though his +nasal passages were completely blocked with a bad cold. He looked at +Rick. "Go ahead, kid, make your call."</p> + +<p>"After you, sir," Rick said politely. "I'm in no hurry."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." The mate walked to the booth and shut himself in.</p> + +<p>Rick got up and wandered casually in that direction, his ears cocked +for the mate's words. Unfortunately, the booth was tight. He could +hear only a faint murmur. He went back to the counter and started +sipping his coffee, keeping his eyes on the booth. He heard the dim +tone of bells and his pulse quickened. Those were coins dropping into +the slots. The mate was making an out-of-town call! If only he could +hear!</p> + +<p>The hot coffee was almost scalding, but he scarcely noticed. His mind +was racing, searching for some way to overhear that conversation. +There just wasn't any way. If he walked over and put his ear to the +booth, the men sitting at the tables and farther up the counter would +see. No, he was sunk this time.</p> + +<p>Within four minutes the mate was out of the booth. He came over and +took a seat at the counter a few stools up and nodded at Rick. +"Thanks, boy."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Rick said. He had to make a pretense of phoning +now. Well, he could call Spindrift and tell his mother they would be +home for lunch. He hadn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> been sure how long the hearing would take +when they left.</p> + +<p>He went into the booth and closed the door. The phone had no dial. +Evidently Seaford, like Whiteside, had no dial system. He started to +pick up the receiver and inspiration struck him. If he could imitate +the mate . . .</p> + +<p>He tried to imitate Chick's nasal tone and thought he did pretty well. +He tried again, and it sounded a little better. Anyway, he thought, +there was nothing to lose by trying. If Seaford had more than one +operator on the town switchboard, which was unlikely because of the +size of the town, it wouldn't work, anyway. Or, if there were two and +he got the wrong one it wouldn't work.</p> + +<p>His hand shook slightly as he lifted the receiver and dropped in his +nickel.</p> + +<p>"Number, please?" the operator said sweetly.</p> + +<p>Rick struggled to imitate the mate's voice. "Say, I have to talk to +that number again. Something I forgot to say."</p> + +<p>"What number was that, sir?" the operator asked.</p> + +<p>Rick took a chance, based on the number of bells he had heard.</p> + +<p>"That New York number," he said. "Forget now what it is. Ain't you got +it written down there?"</p> + +<p>"I'll have to have the number, sir," the operator said with firm +sweetness.</p> + +<p>Rick grew desperate. "Shucks, lady," he whined nasally. "You ain't +goin' t'make me go through that business with that information gal +again, are you?"</p> + +<p>There was a subdued tinkle of laughter. "All right.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> I'll find it." +There was a brief pause. "That number is Cornish 9-3834. Better write +it down this time."</p> + +<p>"I sure will," Rick said. He almost forgot and lapsed back into his +own voice. But he didn't have to write it down. He wasn't forgetting +it.</p> + +<p>"What is your number, please?"</p> + +<p>He gave it, then waited anxiously. In a moment a voice said, "Garden +View Hotel."</p> + +<p>The operator spoke. "One moment, please. Please deposit thirty cents."</p> + +<p>Rick did so, and the bells clanged in his ear. When the ringing +stopped, he said briskly, "Mr. James Killian, please."</p> + +<p>"Just a minute." Then, "No one registered here by that name."</p> + +<p>"Isn't this the Garden Arms Apartments?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"No. This is the Garden View Hotel. You have the wrong number."</p> + +<p>"Oops, sorry," Rick said jubilantly, and hung up.</p> + +<p>He walked to the counter and gulped his coffee, put a dime on the +counter and then hurried to the door. The mate was eating a piece of +pie.</p> + +<p>On the street, Rick looked for Jerry's car and spotted it at a corner +two blocks away. He walked rapidly toward it, waving as he did so. The +car pulled away from the curb and sped toward him, and he motioned to +Jerry to turn the next corner. He hurried and got there just as the +car did.</p> + +<p>"Any luck?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"Luck? Touch me, somebody. Listen to this: Captain Killian is at the +Garden View Hotel in New York, registered under a phony name!" He told +them quickly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> what had happened in the grill and finished, "I'll bet +the mate had orders to phone right after the hearing and let Killian +know what had happened to Tyler."</p> + +<p>"He was handed over to the constable after the insurance company +issued a complaint," Jerry said. "Forgot to tell you that. Well, we +know where this missing captain is. Now what?"</p> + +<p>"Now what! What do you think?" Rick asked indignantly. "Let's go to +New York!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h2>The Tracker</h2> + + +<p>"We can drop your pictures off at the office, then I'll drive you in +to New York, if that's okay," Jerry remarked, as the car sped up the +road to Whiteside.</p> + +<p>"That will be fine," Rick said. "I'll phone Spindrift, too, and let +Mom know we won't be home for lunch. We can pick up a hamburger at a +roadstand on the way in."</p> + +<p>Jerry slowed down to a more moderate pace and Rick looked at him, +surprised. "Thought we were in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Trying something," Jerry said. His eyes were on the rearview mirror. +After a moment he spoke. "The car behind us slowed down, too. I think +he's following us."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike started to look back, but Scotty said warningly, "Don't! If +they're really following, we don't want to let them know they've been +spotted."</p> + +<p>"There's a curve up ahead, Jerry," Rick said. "Keep your eyes on that +car as we round the curve and let me know when they're out of sight."</p> + +<p>"Okay."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>The curve loomed. Jerry took it smoothly, then glanced up at the +mirror. "Now," he said.</p> + +<p>Rick reached up and readjusted the mirror so he could see, then +settled back. In a few seconds the other car was in sight, too far +back for him to see the figures on the license plate, but not so far +that he couldn't see clearly that the plate was from New York, or that +the car was the same make and model as the one they had seen in +Kelso's garage. Reflection of light on the windshield made the +occupant hazy, but Rick had a good idea who it was.</p> + +<p>"Looks like Kelso's car," he told the others. "Listen, Jerry, don't go +to the paper. Drop us in front of Dean's Department Store, then go +around the block. Go slowly to give us time to find out who this bird +is. No, I've got a better idea. Park the car. He'll have to park his +if he intends to follow us."</p> + +<p>Jerry nodded agreement. "There's a parking lot next to the store. I'll +swing in there."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike was grinning from ear to ear. "I'll be dadblamed if this +ain't just like something I read once," he said. "I knew if I got you +two interested we'd have some excitement!"</p> + +<p>Jerry chuckled. "What do you think I want to take them into New York +for? I usually go swimming on Saturday afternoon."</p> + +<p>They were at the outskirts of Whiteside now. Jerry slowed speed again, +and three minutes later he swung into the parking lot next to Dean's, +in the busiest part of the town. Through the rearview mirror Rick saw +the other car go by, heading for a vacant space at the curb, probably. +He had noticed one a half block down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>The four got out of the car and Jerry took the parking check from the +attendant. "Now what?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We walk down the street," Rick directed, "and if we haven't spotted +him by the time we get to Mark's Supermarket, turn into the store. It +has two entrances."</p> + +<p>"If we split up, he'd get confused and we'd lose him easy," Jerry +suggested. "Then we could meet somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Amateur," Scotty scoffed. "We don't want to lose him. We want to find +out who he is."</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty led the way, Cap'n Mike and Jerry following. As they +passed the parked car, Rick saw the license plate clearly. It was the +one he had noticed at Kelso's. Probably Carrots or Red, he thought. +Maybe both. Without seeming to look around, he noted every possible +hiding place where the tracker might wait for them, and decided on the +doorway of an office building. There were a half dozen pillars the +tracker could use for cover. He waited until they were a half block +down from the building, then he turned suddenly as though to speak to +the two behind him. Scotty, whose mind worked much the some way, +turned at about the same time.</p> + +<p>Rick got a quick glimpse of a stocky youth with carrot hair dodging +into a doorway. He stopped and said, "Don't look back. I've got him +spotted. Let's go into Mark's and we'll figure out how to get rid of +him."</p> + +<p>"Carrots," Scotty said gleefully. "We'll have to think of something +really cute for that little friend."</p> + +<p>"Fiend," Rick corrected.</p> + +<p>They turned into the supermarket and mingled with the shoppers. Rick +led the way behind a counter stacked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> high with cereals where they +couldn't be seen. "The meeting is open to suggestions," he said. "We +can shake him with no trouble, but that's too good for him. Any +ideas?"</p> + +<p>"Lead him on a wild-goose chase," Jerry offered.</p> + +<p>Scotty had a grin on his face that boded ill for Carrots Kelso. "I've +got one. I saw it pulled once. Jerry, do you suppose Mildred is at the +office?"</p> + +<p>Mildred Clark, the older sister of one of Barby Brant's closest +friends, was the newspaper's bookkeeper. She had been a visitor at +Spindrift several times, accompanying Jerry to picnics or swimming +parties.</p> + +<p>Jerry looked at his watch. "It's Saturday afternoon, and she usually +doesn't work, but we're getting out our monthly statements, so she's +probably there."</p> + +<p>"Swell. Now how well do you know the cop on this beat?"</p> + +<p>"We're good friends. I gave him a plug in the paper once. He deserved +it, but he thinks I did it out of the goodness of my heart."</p> + +<p>Scotty's grin widened. He lowered his voice and rapidly sketched the +part each was to play. As he talked, Rick, too, began to grin.</p> + +<p>When Scotty had finished, Rick and Cap'n Mike sauntered to the front +of the store. Rick glanced through the big plate-glass windows, but he +saw no sign of Carrots. That meant nothing, because Carrots would be a +complete cabbagehead to let himself be seen. Rick was sure he was +watching. He and Cap'n Mike stood talking for a moment, then Scotty +appeared beside them, and said, "Well, here goes—Jerry's on the phone +now," and faded into the crowd again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick let five minutes elapse while he and the Captain stood in plain +sight, then he glanced at his watch and motioned to the old seaman. +The two of them went out the front of the store. Long before this, +Scotty and Jerry had gone through the side entrance that opened on +another street.</p> + +<p>Rick waited in front of the store, glancing in now and then, and +trying to act impatient. Then he and the Captain started up Main +Street at a slow walk. If everything was working out, Carrots would +have chosen to follow them rather than to wait at the store for Scotty +and Jerry. That was what Rick would have done in his place. He had a +hunch Carrots had picked them up in Seaford and had followed them +largely because of Cap'n Mike's presence. It was entirely possible +that the Kelsos were equally anxious to know of Captain Killian's +whereabouts. Or perhaps they were just interested in seeing if Cap'n +Mike knew where he was.</p> + +<p>As they passed Dean's Department Store, Rick glanced into the doorway +and saw Mildred Clark. He breathed a little easier. The others had +made it on time. And coming down the street toward him was the +policeman who always patrolled this beat. Although he knew Rick well, +he made no sign.</p> + +<p>They neared the entrance of the parking lot and Jerry motioned from +behind a car. He was peering down the street behind them. "Watch +this!" he said gleefully, and stepped into plain view.</p> + +<p>Rick whirled just as Carrots Kelso came abreast of Dean's doorway. +Mildred stepped out ahead of him. She was a slender, attractive girl, +and a good actress, as it proved. She was pulling on gloves, and as is +usually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> the case while so doing, she had her purse tucked under her +arm.</p> + +<p>She and Carrots were only a yard apart when Scotty appeared from the +doorway. He took a long step past Carrots, snatched Mildred's purse +from under her arm, whirled, and handed it to the astonished redhead. +Carrots' reaction was perfect. He took the purse stupidly and stood +there with his mouth open.</p> + +<p>Scotty vanished back into the doorway. Mildred screamed.</p> + +<p>Carrots saw immediately that he was being framed. He turned to run, +but forgot to let go of the purse. Mildred screamed again and Carrots +sprinted headlong into Duke Barrows. Duke held him for the moment it +took for the policeman to arrive.</p> + +<p>It was too good to miss. Rick, Jerry, and the Captain walked back down +the street toward the confusion, trying hard to conceal their mirth.</p> + +<p>Mildred pointed at the purse Carrots still clutched. "That," she +proclaimed dramatically, "is my purse!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't take it," Carrots yelled. "Someone handed it to me!"</p> + +<p>The officer scowled. "A likely story! Unless you had a confederate. +Where is he?"</p> + +<p>Quite a crowd was gathering now. Mildred turned convincingly faint and +Duke had to prop her up. Rick's face was scarlet from choking back +laughter, because he was sure Carrots would burst from sheer anger at +any moment.</p> + +<p>Then Carrots saw him. "You!" he screamed and jerked the policeman's +arm. "There he is! That's one of them. His friend took my—I mean it +was his friend who—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>The officer interrupted. "Do you know this boy?" he asked Rick.</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head, his face solemn. "Never saw him before in my +life," he said calmly.</p> + +<p>Jerry spoke in a stage whisper that could have been heard a block. "A +perfect criminal type if I ever saw one."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike choked and had to turn away.</p> + +<p>Rick nudged Jerry and they turned and walked rapidly back to the +parking lot. It was time to get going.</p> + +<p>Scotty was standing by the car, grinning broadly. Cap'n Mike was weak +from laughing. "Y'know," he chortled, "I've heard the word 'ham' used +for actors, but I never got the full meaning until now. Never saw such +bad acting in my life, except for the girl. She was almost +convincing."</p> + +<p>"On our way," Rick said, and laughter bubbled up as they got into the +car. As they pulled out into the traffic, they saw Carrots being +marched up the street toward the police station, Duke and Mildred +walking behind him and the policeman.</p> + +<p>"Duke phoned the chief from the paper," Jerry said. "They'll go +through all the motions of booking Carrots and taking his picture, +then they'll throw him in a cell for a while. When he quiets down, the +chief will go in and talk to him like a father and point out that +crime doesn't pay, then he'll let him go with a warning."</p> + +<p>Scotty sobered. "It worked like a charm," he said. "But Rick, old egg, +from now on you and I had better stay away from the front end of +Carrots' little air gun!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h2>Captain Killian</h2> + + +<p>Jerry turned down the cross street and looked around him doubtfully. +"I don't know what a fancy hotel would be doing in this neighborhood, +Rick."</p> + +<p>"We don't know how fancy it is," Rick returned. "It just has a fancy +name. But keep going. We should get to it soon. See any numbers?"</p> + +<p>They had stopped and found the address in a telephone book as soon as +they crossed the river into New York through the Holland Tunnel. As +Jerry pointed out, it wasn't a likely neighborhood in which to find a +hotel. It seemed to be mostly manufacturing plants engaged in making +gloves and ladies clothes.</p> + +<p>"Wonder how he happened to choose this location?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"Probably just came into the city and walked down this way and went +into the first hotel he saw," Cap'n Mike speculated. "Man gets used to +a fishing trawler, he's not going to ask for anything fancy by way of +a hotel."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry and Rick had been scanning the numbers along the street. "It's +on your side," Rick said. "Watch for it."</p> + +<p>Jerry applied the brakes and the car slowed. "That must be it," he +said, pointing across the street.</p> + +<p>It wasn't what Rick had expected. A tiny metal sign announced that +this was the Garden View Hotel. It was set above a dingy doorway +through which a flight of stairs could be seen.</p> + +<p>"Where's the garden it's supposed to have a view of?" Scotty wanted to +know.</p> + +<p>Rick motioned in the general direction of uptown. "Probably Madison +Square Garden. You could see it from here easily if there weren't +about two thousand buildings in the way including the Empire State." +He was wondering if they had the right place. "This calls for a small +change in plans," he said.</p> + +<p>On the way to New York they had decided it would be easiest to give a +bellhop a generous tip and have him locate Captain Killian for them. +Bellhops usually knew about every guest in a small hotel, and they +suspected the Garden View would be small simply because none of them +had ever heard of it.</p> + +<p>"You're right," Scotty agreed. "A place like that wouldn't have a +bellhop."</p> + +<p>Rick searched for an idea. "You wouldn't know his signature on the +register, would you. Cap'n?"</p> + +<p>"Never seen him sign his name."</p> + +<p>"Why couldn't one of us be a relative looking for him?" Jerry offered.</p> + +<p>"Say, that's an idea!" Scotty exclaimed. "We could pretend he's a +little cracked and describe him. The clerk would know who we meant, +and he'd probably be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> glad to tell us, because hotels don't like +having people who might be a little bit off."</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Mike could do it," Rick said. "Cap'n, couldn't you pretend to +be his brother?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I could. Well, what are we waiting for? Do I go alone?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you," Rick offered.</p> + +<p>"Jerry and I had better wait, then," Scotty said. "It might look funny +if four of us came trooping in like a chowder-and-marching club."</p> + +<p>Jerry spoke up. "That's okay, except don't forget I'm to talk with him +if he has anything to say. Have to get an interview for the paper."</p> + +<p>"We'll bring him down," Rick promised confidently. "Let's go, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>The stairs leading up into the hotel were creaky with age, and the +accumulation of dust and dirt showed months without a broom. At the +top of the stairs was what had once been quite a nice lobby. But now +the rug was worn to strings and the wallpaper had acquired a glaze of +dirt that made it look like ancient newspapers. Behind the scarred +ruin of an oak counter stood a clerk so fat Rick wondered how the +floor could support him. He was reading a comic book, and he didn't +even look up as they came in.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike addressed him politely. "Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you +can help me?"</p> + +<p>Tired eyes looked up from the comic book. "What can I do for you?" The +words and tone were surprisingly courteous.</p> + +<p>"I'm looking for my brother," Cap'n Mike said. "He's a man about my +height, five years younger, still a lot of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> black in his hair. Red +complexion, pretty well lined. Smokes a corncob pipe. His real name is +Killian, but I don't think you'd know him by that." He touched his +head significantly. "Mind is going. He thinks he's being persecuted."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think he might be here?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike's expressive face assumed a look of infinite sadness. +"Once, many years ago, he spent his honeymoon here. Lost his wife +shortly after in an auto crash, but since his mind went he won't +believe she's dead. Even though it was nigh onto twenty years ago. +Poor soul. Keeps looking for her. We try to keep him home, so he +sneaks off and takes an assumed name. Found him here once before."</p> + +<p>"When?" the tone was suspicious. "I've been here five years myself, +and I don't remember anything like that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was longer ago than that," Cap'n Mike added hastily. "Must be +over eight." He coughed apologetically. "We've had him in an old +seaman's home for a few years, but he wasn't happy there."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at Cap'n Mike with admiration. When it came to spinning a +convincing yarn right off the cuff, so to speak, Cap'n Mike was a +master. Rick hid a smile. What had the old man said about ham actors a +little while back?</p> + +<p>The clerk was nodding slowly. "Old seaman, is he? Well, that fits one +of our guests." He looked at Cap'n Mike sharply. "Sure it's all right? +Who is this boy?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike put his hand on Rick's shoulder. "This? Ah, sir, it's this +boy's poor mother old Jim came here to find."</p> + +<p>Rick bowed his head and looked as sad as possible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> He had to bow it +anyway, to conceal the grin that was forcing its way to the surface.</p> + +<p>"What room is he in?" Cap'n Mike asked tenderly. "Poor old soul."</p> + +<p>"I'll call him." The clerk went to the switchboard and plugged in a +line, then pulled the toggle switch a couple of times. He picked up +the phones and put them on. "Mr. Jameson? Your brother and son are +down here to see you."</p> + +<p>Rick held his breath.</p> + +<p>The clerk unplugged the line and put the phone down. "He'll be +downstairs in a minute." He went back to his comic book.</p> + +<p>Rick and Cap'n Mike went over to a sofa and sat down. As they did so, +a little cloud of dust rose.</p> + +<p>The minutes ticked away. Rick fidgeted.</p> + +<p>He leaned over close to Cap'n Mike. "What do you suppose is keeping +him?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know," Cap'n Mike whispered back. "We'd better see." He rose +and walked to the desk again. "He's slow in coming, sir. I'm just +wondering. Remember I said he thought we were persecuting him? He may +... well, sir, I wonder if we could go up?"</p> + +<p>There was a trace of alarm in the clerk's face. "Maybe you better," he +agreed. "Room 410. Three flights. Two floors up."</p> + +<p>Rick and the Captain hurried for the stairs, went up them two at a +time. To Rick's surprise the old man kept pace with him. On the fourth +landing they paused and looked up and down the shabby corridor. One +door was open. Rick ran to it and looked at the number. It was 410. He +rushed into the room, a tiny box with only a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> bed, a washstand and a +closet. It was empty. He flung the closet door open and saw a +suitcase.</p> + +<p>"He's gone," he called, and rushed back into the hall again. Cap'n +Mike already was trying other doors. All of them were locked except +the bath, and that was empty.</p> + +<p>Rick ran the other way, to the end of the hall where a window stood +open. Fire escape! He leaned far out the window and looked down into a +maze of back alleys. Then his searching eyes saw a figure scurrying +through them, heading east.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n," he called. "Hurry downstairs! Tell Jerry to cut around the +block. He's heading east, the same way the car is. I'll go after him!" +He swung a leg through the window and jumped to the steel fire escape +as Cap'n Mike rushed for the stairs.</p> + +<p>Rick went down the open steel stairs as though he had wings. As he +passed the second floor, he saw the clerk's mouth open to call. Rick +didn't wait to see what he had to say. Perhaps he was trying to tell +him Captain Killian had gone down, too. The clerk would have seen him. +Rick shook his head. The captain must have waited on the fire escape +until they started up the stairs in order to avoid being seen through +the window.</p> + +<p>The last flight was counterbalanced. He stepped on the stairs and they +swung down with a faint groan. Then he was on the ground. He turned +east and ran, leaping over fallen trash and barrels. He had a picture +of the alleys in his mind, so he took all the right turns but one. +That one brought him into a dead end. He backtracked quickly and found +the right way out, and in a moment he came out on the avenue. He +stopped on the curb<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> and looked both ways, spying Jerry's car on the +uptown side, cruising along slowly. He started to call, then realized +Jerry wouldn't hear him. Better to wait. If the car hadn't reached the +avenue before Captain Killian, it was a good bet that they had lost +him. He scuffed his shoe on the curb disgustedly.</p> + +<p>Jerry swung into the next cross street, apparently with the intention +of going completely around the block. And Rick saw a figure step out +of a doorway the moment the coast was clear! The man fitted the +description Cap'n Mike had given. Rick turned his back hurriedly and +walked leisurely in the opposite direction. Then he turned into an +alley between two buildings and peered out. Captain Killian was +walking briskly uptown. Rick saw him turn right at the next corner, in +the direction opposite from that Jerry had taken.</p> + +<p>Once Killian was out of sight, Rick turned and ran uptown, crossing +the avenue. At the corner the seaman had turned, he slowed and looked +around cautiously. It was a long block. The captain was about halfway +down it. Rick debated. Jerry, if he had gone around the block, would +appear on the avenue in a moment, probably one block farther up, since +he wouldn't retrace the street in front of the hotel.</p> + +<p>Rick decided to take the chance. This part of town was almost +deserted, because it was late in the afternoon, and few offices were +open on Saturdays, anyway. They could spot Killian easily enough now +that he knew which direction he had taken. He ran to the next corner +and had to wait only a few seconds before Jerry's car appeared across +the street. He put fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. +Jerry tooted the horn and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> shot across the avenue to him as the light +turned green.</p> + +<p>"Straight ahead," Rick said. "With luck, we'll meet him at the corner, +unless he turned downtown."</p> + +<p>The car roared through the narrow street to the next corner and +stopped. Rick and Cap'n Mike piled out, and the Captain went to meet +the man who had stopped short at their sudden appearance.</p> + +<p>"Howdy, Jim," he said.</p> + +<p>Captain Killian snorted. "So it's you. Thought I recognized you +through the window. What d'you want? And how did you know where to +find me?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike smiled. "As to the second, I got some excellent spies +working for me now, Jim. As to the first, you know right well what I +want."</p> + +<p>"You ain't gonna get it, Mike O'Shannon. I didn't leave town for my +health. I left for a good reason, and I'm going to stay lost. So get +back in the car with them kids and get out of here. Otherwise, I +reckon I'll have to yell for a cop."</p> + +<p>"You won't do that," Cap'n Mike said shrewdly. "If you'd wanted a cop, +you could have got one in Seaford. Come on, Jim, and stop acting like +you were the only one knew anything. We know what you saw the night +Tom was wrecked. And we know who did it."</p> + +<p>That stopped Captain Killian. He gave Cap'n Mike a penetrating look, +then said abruptly, "Where can we talk?"</p> + +<p>"In the car."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike introduced the boys to Killian. "Rick and Scotty," he +explained, "figured out what must have happened to Tom Tyler. Tell +him, Rick."</p> + +<p>Rick outlined the theory quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Captain Killian sat staring out of the window. "That's about it," he +said finally. "It must be. Maybe Bill Lake thought he'd lost the light +and current set him over, but I was closer. Not close enough to see +anything but the light, you understand. But I saw it blink out, and I +looked down at the binnacle and held the same compass heading until it +came on again, and it was in a different place.</p> + +<p>"If you'd said that at the hearing this morning, Tom Tyler might have +been free right now," Cap'n Mike accused.</p> + +<p>Captain Killian's back stiffened. "I don't know what you're thinking, +Mike, but if it weren't for Tom, I wouldn't be here."</p> + +<p>"We'd like to hear about that," Cap'n Mike said.</p> + +<p>"May as well tell you. Soon as I saw what happened to the <i>Sea Belle</i>, +I hurried to find Tom. While I was looking for him, I ran into Brad +Marbek and I asked him about the light. I knew he'd been right behind +Tom. Brad acted mighty queer, and when I did see Tom, he got all +excited. He begged me to leave town, for my own sake and his. I told +him he'd have a hard time without my testimony and Brad's, and he +broke down and told me Brad was mixed up in some kind of deal with +them Kelsos, and he said he wasn't worried about himself, but about +Celia—that's his wife—and their little girl. He said he didn't dare +try and clear himself, though he knew right well what had happened."</p> + +<p>Captain Killian shrugged. "What could I do? Stay and put Celia and +their little girl in danger? Not likely I'd do that! And I couldn't +pretend not to know anything because I'd already talked to Brad."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>The four nodded their understanding.</p> + +<p>"So I packed up and got out. First I told Chick what to say, and told +him to tell folks I'd been to the trawler next morning so they +wouldn't connect my going with Tom's wreck."</p> + +<p>"Was just the shifting of the light all you saw?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"That's all. I will say that I knew the second light was the real one. +I hadn't known the first one wasn't real, but when Smugglers' Light +came on I could see there was a difference. I'd figured the light was +sort of dull because of ground haze. There was some, you know."</p> + +<p>"There's our evidence," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Yep." Cap'n Mike leaned back in the seat. "Only trouble is, we can't +use it without getting both Jim and Tom's family in danger. So I guess +we're back where we started."</p> + +<p>"But we can prove to the police the light was changed," Jerry began. +"If Captain Killian tells his story ..." He stopped. "No good. Because +we have no proof the Kelsos were mixed up in it, and they'd still be +able to carry out their threats."</p> + +<p>"That's exactly right," Captain Killian said. "Now how about telling +me how you found me? Did Chick give me away?"</p> + +<p>"Not on purpose," Cap'n Mike assured him. "Rick was trailing him when +he telephoned you this morning, and he found out the number Chick had +called. The rest was easy."</p> + +<p>"I see. And what am I supposed to do now?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't see how you can stay in that hotel," Cap'n Mike said, a +little distastefully.</p> + +<p>Captain Killian smiled. "Pretty bad, all right. You know, last time I +spent a night in New York I stayed there. It was right nice. There was +a real pretty garden out in back."</p> + +<p>"How long ago was that?" Rick queried.</p> + +<p>The fisherman hesitated. "Oh, must be all of twenty-five years ago. I +was some upset when I saw the place, but I'd already told Chick to +call me there, so nothing for it but to stay. Wish I could stay +somewhere else, but it wouldn't be safe to go back to Seaford."</p> + +<p>"Whiteside would be all right," Rick said. "You could stay there."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather. But are you sure it'd be safe?"</p> + +<p>Jerry spoke up. "Captain, I'm on the Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>. I'll +make a deal with you. Give us your story exclusively, when the right +time comes, and the paper will guarantee your safety."</p> + +<p>"It sounds good," Captain Killian admitted. "But when is the right +time going to come? Maybe never."</p> + +<p>"Sooner than you think," Rick said quietly. "Look, gang. There's only +one way to crack this case. We know now we can't get Captain Tyler +cleared unless the whole outfit is rounded up. So we'll just have to +get busy and find the evidence we need. We'll start over again, and +this time we won't go wrong because we know what to look for, and +where to look."</p> + +<p>"Fighting talk," Cap'n Mike chuckled happily.</p> + +<p>Scotty laughed. "Do we dare put our heads inside the Seaford city +limits again after what we did to Car<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>rots? He'll be waiting for us +with a squad of thugs and that little popgun of his."</p> + +<p>"The popgun maybe, but no thugs," Rick corrected. "What will you bet +he never even tells his father what happened to him?"</p> + +<p>"No bet there," Jerry said, grinning. "I'll bet the same thing." He +put the car in gear. "We may as well head back to Whiteside. First, +though, we'll have to collect Captain Killian's baggage."</p> + +<p>The captain spoke his agreement. "I'll take your offer, son." He shook +his head. "You know, I'm real surprised at Brad Marbek. I knew he +wasn't above turning a dishonest dollar, but I thought he had more +sense than to go into smuggling. No matter how foolproof you think +your setup is, if you start smuggling you're bound to get caught. +Sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"In this case," Rick added hopefully, "we'll try to make it sooner."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h2>Plimsoll Marks</h2> + + +<p>Duke Barrows, editor of the Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i>, sipped slowly +at his cup of coffee, nodding encouragement at Rick every once in a +while. The editor, after a few words with Jerry, had taken Captain +Killian to his own house for safekeeping. The captain could stay +there, Duke said, until it was time for him to make a public +appearance.</p> + +<p>But the price Duke asked was to be told the complete story. At first +Rick hesitated. With no proof of anything except for Captain Killian's +testimony, which actually convicted no one, he was a little doubtful +about making accusations. But when it came to keeping a tight lip, the +editor was probably more experienced than any of them. Besides, Rick +hoped that he might have a suggestion, so, finally, they put Cap'n +Mike on the Seaford bus and the three boys and Duke retired to a +secluded booth in the rear of a restaurant to talk it over.</p> + +<p>Barrows traced circles on the plastic table top for long moments after +Rick had finished. "You've been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> pretty thorough," he said finally. +"What do you plan to try now?"</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "I wish I knew. We could try to get to Creek +House earlier next time the <i>Albatross</i> puts in there, but we know now +they guard the place."</p> + +<p>"How about spotting the <i>Albatross</i> from the air while she actually +loads at sea?" Duke asked.</p> + +<p>"Rick mentioned that," Scotty replied. "But how? We can't fly at night +in the Cub because we don't have landing lights. And even if we did, +we could only go out in moonlight because we don't have any night +flying instruments."</p> + +<p>Jerry looked at the editor. "Duke, you know the Coast Guard commanding +officer in this area. How about getting him to send out one of his +planes?"</p> + +<p>"We could," Duke said slowly, "but I'd rather not. This is Rick and +Scotty's case." He grinned. "Besides, I'm selfish. If the Coast Guard +gets it, every news agency and paper in the country gets it from +official sources. I'd rather have an exclusive we can copyright, then +every paper in the country will have to quote us."</p> + +<p>"It would put Whiteside on the map," Rick grinned in response. +"Seriously, Duke, I'm afraid that's not very practical. Besides, how +would we know when the <i>Albatross</i> was going to make contact with a +supply ship? We know when he's going to Creek House, because Cap'n +Mike can see him. But Brad has already made contact when that +happens."</p> + +<p>"Let's take one thing at a time." The editor drew pencil and paper +from his pocket. "What would you need to fly at night?"</p> + +<p>Rick ticked them off on his fingers. "Wing landing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> lights, navigation +lights, cockpit instrument light. And if we were supposed to fly in +anything but clear weather, we'd need a bank and turn indicator and an +artificial horizon. But even then I'd be doubtful. I've never had +instrument training. I wouldn't dare take the Cub out unless it was a +clear, moonlit night, so I'd have a good horizon."</p> + +<p>Scotty approved. "That makes sense. And if we stuck to clear +moonlight, the only things we'd need would be landing lights and +navigation lights."</p> + +<p>Duke made notes. "All right. I don't think you need to worry much +about having moonlight, because the weather is pretty consistent at +this time of year. Barring a ground haze or a local thunderstorm, +you'll have clear weather, and the moon will be full by the early part +of next week. Now suppose we get Gus to install landing lights and +navigation lights on a rental basis? The paper would pay for that in +exchange for an exclusive story."</p> + +<p>"All we'd need would be good weather," Rick said. He had never flown +the Cub at night. In fact, he had flown only once at night, and then +it was in a much better plane and with an experienced instructor. But +with good moonlight and a clear sky, it shouldn't be much different +from day flying.</p> + +<p>Duke continued. "Now the next point. How can we know when the +<i>Albatross</i> is going to make contact?"</p> + +<p>"I think we can find out if Cap'n Mike will help," Scotty answered. +"We know it takes time to transfer the smuggled goods, whatever they +are. That means Brad Marbek has to leave port earlier in the morning +than usual, unless he wants to call attention to what he's doing. As I +see it, he probably leaves pretty early, makes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> contact with his +supply ship and gets his load, then he hurries to the fishing grounds +and gets his nets over the side and is fishing when daylight comes and +the others see him. If Cap'n Mike kept watch, he would let us know +when Brad left real early."</p> + +<p>"That's good figuring," Rick complimented his pal. "The <i>Albatross</i> +would have to leave between half past two and three in the morning. +Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to load before daybreak."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't take long," Scotty pointed out. "They have to do their +unloading by hand at Creek House, but the ship would have cargo booms. +Two cargo nets swung to his deck would do it. It wouldn't take any +time at all."</p> + +<p>Jerry consulted his watch. "We could go to Seaford tonight and make +arrangements."</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "It's Saturday. The fleet doesn't go out on +Sunday. Monday will be soon enough."</p> + +<p>"I have another idea," Duke Barrows said. "Suppose we take the State +Police into our confidence?"</p> + +<p>"But we haven't any evidence to give them," Jerry objected.</p> + +<p>"No need. Captain Ed Douglas is a good friend of mine. I can put it to +him as a friend, and not officially."</p> + +<p>Rick rather liked the idea of having the State Police on their side. +He had a great deal of respect for the young officers, and he knew +that they operated with military efficiency, plus FBI criminology +training. What's more, Captain Douglas was a good friend of Hartson +Brant's, and Rick knew he would treat their story with confidence.</p> + +<p>"I'm for it," he said finally. "Besides, if the State<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> Police sort of +co-operated unofficially, they could have their highway patrols watch +out for the truck that is getting the stuff from Creek House. The +patrol car wouldn't even have to go into Seaford. They could just keep +an eye on Salt Creek Bridge, because that must be the loading point. +Cap'n Mike hasn't seen any trucks on Million Dollar Row."</p> + +<p>"Fine." Duke Barrows rose. "It's still early. We'll get busy right +away. First stop Whiteside Airport to talk with Gus about putting +lights on your plane. Then we'll drop in on Captain Douglas."</p> + +<p>Rick felt better. The pattern was clear now, even though there were a +lot of "ifs." If Cap'n Mike notified them, he and Scotty could fly +over the <i>Albatross</i>. If they saw it make contact with some offshore +ship and load contraband, they could return to Spindrift and notify +Captain Douglas. Then the State Police could be on hand at Creek House +to catch the Kelsos and Marbek in the act of unloading. And that would +settle the smugglers' hash once and for all! The prospect of flying at +night made him a little nervous, but he was sure it would be all +right. The only thing was, although he could take off from Spindrift +at night he couldn't land there, because the tiny strip gave no room +for errors in judgment. He would have to land at Whiteside.</p> + +<p>"This is on the <i>Morning Record</i>," Duke said as he paid the check. +"And while we're working on this, I think I'll try to dig into Kelso's +record a little, too. Never know what might turn up."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sunday was quiet at Spindrift. Rick and Scotty swam in the light surf +below Pirate's Field, sun-bathed for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> while, and then walked back to +the house. Hartson Brant was loafing for the day, too, and Rick had an +opportunity to talk with him for the first time in several days.</p> + +<p>Hartson Brant listened to Rick's story and plans, and agreed that any +night flying must be done in absolutely clear, bright weather. Rick +knew the fact that Captain Douglas was co-operating had swung his +father's decision, and he knew that although his mother would be +inclined to object, she would accept his father's judgment.</p> + +<p>It gave Rick a comfortable feeling to know that the State Police +captain was interested. Captain Douglas had agreed to go along with +their plans during a long conference the night before. And Gus had +promised to get the necessary lights for the Cub from Newark early +Monday morning, and to have them installed by Monday evening.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Rick and Scotty helped with the installation on Monday afternoon. The +hardest part was feeding the wires through the wings and fuselage. The +wires had to be passed from one inspection port to the next, which +required a great deal of fishing. But by five in the afternoon, the +job was done. The Cub now carried a pair of landing lights, like auto +headlights, one under each wing, and red and green navigation lights +on the wings. There was a tiny white light on the tail, too, which +would blink in unison with the colored wing lights.</p> + +<p>As they landed at Spindrift, Rick grinned at Scotty. "Your head set +firmly on your neck? It might get jarred off first time I try a night +landing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should have stayed in the Marine Corps and lived a quiet, safe +life," Scotty grumbled. "When do we try these things out?"</p> + +<p>"Want to go down and shine the lights on Creek House?" Rick joked.</p> + +<p>"Nope. Wouldn't be safe. Didn't that phone call warn you not to fly +over Seaford?"</p> + +<p>The phrase hit home. Rick yelled, "That's it! Scotty, I knew there was +something funny. It was in the back of my head and I couldn't dig it +out. But that's it! Listen, why would the Kelsos object to our flying +over Seaford during the day? All their dirty work goes on under cover +of darkness. They must have some reason for warning us!"</p> + +<p>"Gosh, yes!" Scotty started at a run through the orchard. "Let's go +take another look at those photographs!"</p> + +<p>They ran through the house and up the stairs to Rick's room, and +spread out on a table the enlargements Scotty had made. "Let's see," +Rick said. "There must be something they don't want us to see. But +where? We know there's nothing on the grounds, and we couldn't see +anything in the house or garage from the air."</p> + +<p>"The marsh," Scotty suggested. "Try the marsh, especially up the creek +from the hotel."</p> + +<p>Their heads bent over the best photo of the area and two pairs of eyes +scanned the marsh grass. Rick pointed to an area on the Creek House +side of the marsh, a short distance below the bridge. "There's +something there, but I can't make it out."</p> + +<p>Scotty straightened up. "Got a magnifying glass?"</p> + +<p>"There's one in the library." Rick ran to get it, stopped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> to explain +to his father that they might have an important clue, and ran back +upstairs again. It was a powerful glass. He held it over the +questionable area and details leaped to meet him. Wordlessly he handed +the glass to Scotty.</p> + +<p>The boy bent and studied the photo, then he turned to Rick with a wide +grin on his face. "So that's it! Rick, this is their cache. They must +park the stuff there until the truck comes!"</p> + +<p>The marsh grass had been bent cunningly over the area in an effort at +camouflage, but the magnifying glass clearly showed some sort of barge +piled with wooden boxes!</p> + +<p>"Let's go take a look," Scotty said enthusiastically. "Maybe it's +still there."</p> + +<p>Rick started to agree, then a thought struck him. "We'd better not. +They'd see us, and they might notice the lights on the plane. We don't +want to tip our hand." Then he brightened. "But they don't know Gus's +plane!" He hurried out into the hall and called Whiteside Airport. Gus +answered.</p> + +<p>"This is Rick," he told the airport manager. "Gus, how's your plane?"</p> + +<p>"Running like a watch. Just like my car. Why?"</p> + +<p>"How's to borrow it for a quick trip south?"</p> + +<p>"Now he wants to imitate birds," Gus groaned. "Don't you know it's too +early to fly south?"</p> + +<p>"Don't want to go that far south," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"Come and get it."</p> + +<p>Rick had no hesitation in asking the obliging Gus for the loan of +equipment because he was always ready to oblige in turn. Several +times, when Gus's plane was out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> of commission or not available, +either because of engine overhaul or because some flier had rented it, +Rick had taken the Cub to Whiteside for Gus to use in instructing his +pupils. Furthermore, the island boats were always at Gus's disposal +and he frequently borrowed one to go on a Sunday fishing excursion.</p> + +<p>The short hop to Whiteside took only a few minutes. Rick taxied to the +hangar and he and Scotty climbed out. Gus's plane, a light private job +of a different make than Rick's and painted red, was standing on the +apron. It had the name of the airport painted on the side in large +letters.</p> + +<p>Gus came out of the office and walked to meet them. He was a short, +stocky young man only a few years older than Rick, and his slightly +sour look hid a keen sense of humor. "I called my lawyer," he +announced. "He'll be right here."</p> + +<p>"Lawyer?" Rick sometimes had a hard time knowing when Gus was pulling +his leg. "What for?"</p> + +<p>Gus shrugged. "You're borrowing my plane when your own is in perfect +flying condition. It must be for something illegal. You want my plane +to be seen instead of yours. You want people to think I did it. So I +asked my lawyer to come. I'll have a witness to prove I wasn't in the +plane when the dastardly deed was done."</p> + +<p>"What deed?" Scotty asked seriously.</p> + +<p>Gus looked wise. "You don't trap me like that," he said. "If I +admitted what I know, that would make me an accessory before the fact. +Nope, I'm keeping quiet about this." He leered. "But I know!"</p> + +<p>"Accessory!" Rick hooted. "You know what that means? Something extra +and usually unnecessary."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gus looked hurt. "I'll remember that next time you come in for an +engine check and I'll put emery in your crankcase. Go on. Get in and +I'll whirl the fan for you."</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty climbed into Gus's plane, grinning. Rick checked the +controls rapidly, then called, "Ignition off."</p> + +<p>"Off," Gus repeated, and pulled the propeller through to prime the +engine.</p> + +<p>"Contact," Rick called, and Gus pulled the prop. The engine caught at +once. Rick warmed it, watching his gauges, then waved to Gus and +taxied to the end of the runway. As they were airborne, Scotty took +the speed graphic he had brought and checked to see that a film pack +was in place. Rick banked around and headed for Seaford.</p> + +<p>There was no buzzing of Creek House this time. Rick flew in a straight +line, just far enough seaward so that Scotty could get a good picture. +As they passed the cache area, Scotty leaned far out and snapped the +shutter. Then he turned to Rick, grinning. "Still there. About ten +cases. It looks as if we've got the goods on them."</p> + +<p>Rick flew straight ahead until he was out of sight of Seaford, then he +swung a few miles inland and returned to Whiteside. Fifteen minutes +later they were landing the Cub at Spindrift, just in time for dinner. +But first Rick made a phone call to the <i>Morning Record</i>, reported +their findings to Duke and arranged with Jerry to pick them up at the +Whiteside dock later for a trip to Seaford. They had to see Cap'n Mike +to make arrangements and Rick wanted another look at the <i>Albatross</i>. +He had to memorize every detail of its sil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>houette, otherwise he might +find himself following the wrong ship when the time came if another +fisherman decided to get an early start.</p> + +<p>It was dusk when Jerry met them. "Got a message from Duke," he said as +they climbed into the car. "He phoned Captain Douglas to tell him +about the wooden cases you saw. The captain is going to keep an eye on +the stuff, but he says it isn't enough evidence. The Kelsos could +always claim they knew nothing about it and we couldn't prove they +did. The stuff isn't on their land."</p> + +<p>"Proof," Scotty said sourly. "Golly, do we have to get pictures of +them peddling the stuff to customers?"</p> + +<p>"Just about," Rick commented.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Cap'n Mike wasn't at home when the boys arrived. They parked in front +of his shack and talked and listened to the car radio for over an hour +before he finally appeared, then he greeted them tartly.</p> + +<p>"Why weren't you at Spindrift when I phoned?"</p> + +<p>"What for?" Rick asked. "What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Brad Marbek's at Creek House again. That's what happened. I called to +tell you, and your mother said you had left. What's the matter? Not +letting what happened the other night scare you off, are you?"</p> + +<p>"We sure are," Scotty replied.</p> + +<p>Rick laughed at the old seaman's astonished expression. "Don't let him +fool you, Cap'n. We've got another plan."</p> + +<p>Quickly he outlined Duke's proposal and explained how they had +outfitted the Cub.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike smacked his thigh. "Now we're getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> down to cases. You +just bet I'll keep watch on the pier so I can phone when Brad leaves."</p> + +<p>"There's one more thing, Cap'n Mike," Rick said. "I have to get +another look at the <i>Albatross</i> tonight. Is there any place from which +we can see her without being seen?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike thought it over. "Yep," he said at last. "There is. There's +a dredger tied up at the pier just south of the fish wharf, and Brad +always berths in the same place, south side. I know the skipper of the +dredger. We can sort of drop in on him and take a look from there. +That suit?"</p> + +<p>"That will be fine," Rick replied. "But we may have a long wait if +Brad's at Creek House."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't be surprised," Cap'n Mike nodded. "Likely two hours. What +say you come into my shack? Might be able to scare up a sandwich or +two to pass away the time."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at Jerry doubtfully. "There's a paper tomorrow morning. +Don't you have to get back and help get it out?"</p> + +<p>"Not tonight." Jerry grinned his pleasure. "Duke said to stick with +you two and forget everything else. First time I've had an assignment +like this. I have to admit I sort of like it."</p> + +<p>"Good," Cap'n Mike grunted. "Then let's go see what we can find to +eat. I got so interested in watching for Brad Marbek that I plumb +forgot about food."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was after eleven when the four left the shack and climbed into +Jerry's car for the short ride to the pier. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> Scotty's suggestion, +they parked the car on the edge of town and walked to the dock where +the dredger was tied up. They stayed in the shadows, hopeful that they +would not be seen, and Rick thought they reached the dredge without +attracting attention.</p> + +<p>The dredge was deserted, but Cap'n Mike made himself at home. He led +the boys into the wheelhouse, a small shack on the aft end, and they +took places at the windows. They had arrived too early, as it +developed. It was a full half-hour before the <i>Albatross</i> rounded the +fish pier and steamed into her berth. The pier workers were gathered +at the berth, obviously waiting impatiently. They had finished +unloading the last of the other trawlers a full fifteen minutes +before.</p> + +<p>Rick studied the rigging of the ship as it approached and memorized +the position of her running lights. The <i>Albatross</i> had only one +distinctive feature; her crow's-nest, from which a lookout was kept +for schools of fish, was basket-shaped instead of being perfectly +round. The other trawlers, he had noted, had crow's-nests that looked +like barrels. He knew he wouldn't forget the way the nest narrowed +toward the bottom.</p> + +<p>The <i>Albatross</i> was low in the water. As she slid into position and +threw out her lines, he saw clearly the Plimsoll mark on her bow. The +Plimsoll mark was a series of measurements in feet, running from the +maximum depth at which the ship should lie in the water down toward +the keel. By looking at it, the skipper could tell at once how much +load he had aboard. Now, the top figure was barely showing.</p> + +<p>Rick studied it, and his forehead creased. "That's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> funny," he said. +He pointed it out to the others. "She's full up. You'd think she would +be lighter after dropping off a load at Creek House."</p> + +<p>"You would for a fact," Cap'n Mike muttered. "What do you suppose +they're smuggling? Must be feathers. 'Cause if you added a few more +pounds to the load she's carrying now, she'd be awash."</p> + +<p>Rick felt a pang of doubt. Were they away off the beam on their +guesses about the Kelsos and the <i>Albatross</i>? The ship certainly would +be higher in the water had they unloaded cargo.</p> + +<p>"Maybe they didn't unload tonight," Scotty ventured. "It would be +smart of Marbek to just visit Creek House for nothing once in a while, +to throw off any watchers. That way, he could make his story about +visiting his relatives seem a little more plausible."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike had told them that was the story Brad was handing out to +those who dared question him about his visits to Creek House.</p> + +<p>Rick's face cleared. "That must be it," he agreed. "But look, if he +visited the Kelsos tonight, it doesn't look as though he would make +contact with his supply ship for a couple of days."</p> + +<p>"Suits me," Scotty stated. "I'm not overly anxious to go tooting off +into the wild black yonder in the Cub, if you come right down to it. +I'd rather Brad took his time, to let me get used to the idea."</p> + +<p>He had stated so neatly what Rick was feeling that he had to grin. He +had been wishing he had more confidence in his ability to land safely +at night.</p> + +<p>"Amen," he said fervently.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h2>Night Flight</h2> + + +<p>It seemed to Rick that his head scarcely had touched the pillow when +the ringing of the phone penetrated his slumber. The luminous dial of +his watch showed quarter past three. For an instant he shivered. The +ringing could mean only one thing.</p> + +<p>He heard the creaking of his bedspring and the soft pat of Scotty's +bare feet as his pal swung to the floor. Scotty had the faculty of +waking instantly and moving into action. By the time Rick reached the +hall, he was already lifting the phone from its cradle.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" he said softly. "Okay, Cap'n Mike. How long do you think it +will take him to get out past the fishing grounds? All right. Give us +a call about breakfast time and we'll let you know how we made out."</p> + +<p>The boys hurried to Rick's room. Rick snapped on the light and stood +blinking in its sudden glare. "What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"Brad just left. He was phoning from Jake's Grill. I guess that's the +only place in Seaford that's open all night."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My guess that he wouldn't go out tonight was certainly bum," Rick +said. "The smuggling business must be good. How long did he figure it +would take Brad to reach the other side of the fishing grounds?"</p> + +<p>"About an hour."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at his watch again. "That doesn't give him much time +before daybreak. It starts to get light at about half past four at +this time of year. Well, let's get dressed."</p> + +<p>Rick slipped into slacks and a heavy woolen shirt, because it would be +cold before dawn. Then he put on woolen socks and moccasins. He was +getting his motion-picture camera from the closet when Scotty came in, +fully dressed. Rick tucked an extra reel of infrared film into his +shirt pocket and grinned at his pal.</p> + +<p>"How's your nerve?"</p> + +<p>"Mine doesn't matter," Scotty returned cheerfully. "How's yours? +That's what counts."</p> + +<p>"We'll soon know." Rick paused as his mother called softly. "Yes, +Mom?"</p> + +<p>He walked to the door of his parents' bedroom.</p> + +<p>"Be very careful," Rick's mother cautioned. And Hartson Brant added, +"Don't forget distances look different at night, son, even with +landing lights."</p> + +<p>"I'll be careful," he promised. "We'll be back in a little while."</p> + +<p>He motioned to Scotty and then snapped out the lights and went down +the stairs. He left the camera on the porch and they walked to the +boat landing, hiking briskly because it was chilly. Their plan was to +take both boats to the Whiteside landing and leave one of them there, +to provide a means for getting back to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> island after they had +landed at the airport. Probably it would have been more sensible to +have left the plane at the airport, too, but that meant a walk from +the boat landing and Rick hadn't been sure how much time they would +have.</p> + +<p>In a short while they were back at Spindrift. They picked up the +camera and walked past the orchard to where the Cub was parked, +looking a little unfamiliar with the landing lights shining in the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>Rick stopped for another look at the sky. He had studied it +periodically from the moment they left the house. There was a little +fair weather cumulus cloud scattered here and there, but nothing that +would interfere with visibility. There was a good moon, between a half +and three-quarters full. Rick would have preferred the brightest of +full moons, but he philosophized that he shouldn't expect maximum +conditions.</p> + +<p>A glance at his watch showed that slightly less than a half-hour had +elapsed since the phone call. It would be another half-hour before +Brad reached the probable contact point beyond the fishing grounds, +and it would take the Cub only about twelve minutes to reach it. There +was no use in starting just yet. He sat down on the grass under the +wing of the Cub and hurriedly stood up again. The dew already had +fallen and the grass was wet.</p> + +<p>Scotty chuckled. "Something bite you?"</p> + +<p>"Thought we could sit it out for a little while," Rick explained. "But +it's too wet." He knew he couldn't sit still, anyway. He wanted to get +into the air, to get the feel of things. "Crank 'er up," he requested.</p> + +<p>He slid into the pilot's seat and placed the camera<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> beside him. +Scotty walked around to the front of the plane and started the engine. +Then, as Rick warmed it, he untied the tie ropes, removed the wheel +chocks, and got in. "Relax," he advised.</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to," Rick returned. "Buckle in. Here we go." He fastened +his seat belt and Scotty did likewise.</p> + +<p>The grass landing strip stretched ahead for a distance that seemed +much shorter in the moonlight. Rick glued his eyes to the point where +it ended and pushed forward on the throttle. He wouldn't need lights +for the takeoff. The plane shuddered and he released the brakes. The +tail came up and the Cub rolled, picking up speed rapidly, then lifted +smoothly from the grass. Airborne!</p> + +<p>The horizon was clearly defined and Rick breathed a sigh of relief. No +trouble in flying level now. Their only bad moment would come in +landing. He climbed to almost a thousand feet, then set a course for +Whiteside. He wanted to get a look at the airport approaches by night. +In a short space he saw the field beacon and then the red boundary +lights. He throttled back and let the nose drop, crossing the field at +less than two hundred feet. It looked easy. The tension left him and +he flew easily, automatically. He had been flying the Cub for so long +that it behaved like part of him, without conscious effort. He climbed +steadily in a shallow turn until his altimeter read two thousand feet +and he was heading out to sea. Far below, Spindrift Island was a dark +extension of the land, almost completely framed by silvery, moonlit +water.</p> + +<p>"Pretty," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. He knew his mother and father were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> listening to the +plane's drone down there. They wouldn't sleep much until he was back.</p> + +<p>They had spent ten minutes making the long sweep over Whiteside. Rick +glanced at his watch, then banked around on the predetermined course. +He put the Cub in a slow climb.</p> + +<p>"We'll arrive a little north of the grounds," he said. "Watch for ship +lights. We may see the supply ship before we see Brad Marbek."</p> + +<p>"Maybe they've already met," Scotty remarked.</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "They can't have met yet. Brad would have to go +pretty far out. Otherwise, the trawlers going to fish would be able to +see him and his supply ship on the horizon."</p> + +<p>Scotty shivered. "It's getting cold."</p> + +<p>They were climbing steadily. The altimeter read slightly less than +four thousand feet. At that height, the men on the ships below +wouldn't know what kind of plane was overhead. They flew in silence +for several minutes, then Rick warned, "We're getting there."</p> + +<p>"I'm watching." Scotty had taken the binoculars from behind the seat +where they had been left. Suddenly he grabbed Rick's arm. "There. Dead +ahead."</p> + +<p>Rick banked the plane a little so he could see from the side window. +Far ahead and below, red lights and white lights twinkled against the +sheen of the sea. Some distance separated the lights and he knew he +was seeing both vessels. They had not yet met. His pulse began to +pound a little. He pulled back slightly on the control wheel and let +the Cub climb.</p> + +<p>"We'll continue straight on," he told Scotty. "Then we'll turn and +come back at a lower altitude."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Okay." Scotty leaned out into the slip stream and put the binoculars +on the lights. When the ships were behind, he pulled his head in again +and rubbed his cold face. "That other ship is a freighter, but not +very big. I'd say less than four thousand tons. It's probably a +coaster."</p> + +<p>Rick wondered, if it was a coastal vessel, why he hadn't found +anything in the New York paper at the <i>Morning Record</i>. It was +probable, he decided, that the ship was heading for some other port, +maybe Boston.</p> + +<p>"Funny," Scotty said. "The other ship is heading south."</p> + +<p>"South? No wonder we didn't find anything in the shipping news. +Listen, Scotty, what if that's just an American coaster? You know what +that would mean? That ship would have to rendezvous with some +ocean-going freighter, or maybe several of them." His voice hushed. +"What if we've run into something that's only a small part of a really +big smuggling ring?"</p> + +<p>His ready imagination pictured the coastal vessel sailing regularly +between Baltimore and Portland, Maine, meeting ocean-going smugglers +and in turn supplying small contraband runners like Brad Marbek and +the Kelsos all the way up and down the coast.</p> + +<p>"I expected some big ocean freighter," Scotty remarked.</p> + +<p>They had been flying steadily out to sea. Now Rick banked around so +Scotty could look through the glasses once more.</p> + +<p>"I can see them on the horizon," Scotty said, glasses to his eyes. +"They've met. The lights are almost together. Hey! The lights just +went out!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Probably turned out so as not to attract the attention of any passing +ships," Rick guessed. "They can't see, as we can, that they're the +only ships around. We'll stall for a while before going back. Give +them time to get rigged for passing cargo."</p> + +<p>He lifted the camera to his lap, then trimmed the Cub so it would fly +by itself. Scotty took the power pack on his own lap and checked again +to see that the dynamo-driven spring was wound tight.</p> + +<p>Rick had connected the infrared attachment so that a switch was handy +under his thumb when his left hand held the camera in position. The +camera itself, run by its own spring, was operated by his right hand. +He pressed the infrared switch and heard the dynamo whine softly. +Scotty immediately wound it another half turn to bring the spring up +to full tension again.</p> + +<p>"Wish I had enough hours to do the flying," he said regretfully. "Then +you could photograph without worrying about the plane."</p> + +<p>Scotty had his license, but he had not yet accumulated the experience +that would fit him for an adventure like tonight's. Or rather this +morning's.</p> + +<p>Rick twisted the lens barrel, making sure it was full open, then he +twisted the focusing ring until it stopped. Now the camera was focused +on infinity. All he needed to do was aim and shoot. He looked at +Scotty. His friend's face was a white blur in the dimness inside the +plane. "Think we've given them enough time?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. They wouldn't need much. The supply ship would have cargo +booms all rigged and the first load in the cargo net. Better turn +back."</p> + +<p>Rick banked, letting the Cub slip as he did so. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> lost altitude +rapidly and he watched the silvery sheen of the ocean resolve itself +into waves. There was not enough wind to make foam or whitecaps. The +two ships would have no trouble coming alongside and moving cargo. He +leveled off at five hundred feet on a course that would take them +directly over the vessels.</p> + +<p>Both boys strained to see ahead, and both saw the blurred outline on +the horizon at the same time. Gradually the outline became clearer +until finally they flashed directly over the two ships.</p> + +<p>"Here we go," Rick said, and the calmness of his voice surprised him. +He rocked the Cub up in a tight bank that would take them in a narrow +circle with the ships at the center. His hands made delicate +adjustments in the plane's balance so that it would practically fly +itself. His feet were light on the rudder pedals. He lifted his hand +from the wheel and the Cub held course without a waver.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said. He took the camera and pressed it to his cheek, +gripping it firmly. His eye found the telescope and he pressed the +infrared switch.</p> + +<p>Scotty's hand was poised, ready to grab the control wheel if the plane +started to slip. The power pack was held tightly between his knees, +and his right hand was on the winding handle.</p> + +<p>The scene lighted up for Rick. He saw four men on the trawler's deck, +looking up at him. He saw the cargo net suspended almost over their +heads, and he saw men on the deck of the freighter. His right index +finger pressed and the camera started to roll.</p> + +<p>The Cub held its tight circle and Rick kept his finger down. Then he +felt the camera stop and knew it had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> to be wound. Swiftly he shifted +balance and turned the winding handle until the spring was at full +tension again. But his shifting of weight had disturbed the plane's +delicate balance. He had to put the camera down and work the tab +controls that trimmed the plane with his left hand while his right +kept it steady.</p> + +<p>It took a few moments. Meanwhile, Scotty had wound the dynamo tight +once more. When Rick looked out, the cargo net was no longer in sight. +The men on the freighter's deck were bent over another cargo net, +working at cases that evidently were heavy. Rick kept the camera on +them, shooting steadily, rewinding when necessary. Then he shifted his +view to the trawler. The men were standing over a gaping fish hatch. +Evidently they were stowing the first load while the men on the +freighter prepared the second.</p> + +<p>"I have enough," Rick said finally. There was nothing more to be seen, +unless they wanted to wait for the second load to change ships.</p> + +<p>"How much footage did you get?" Scotty asked.</p> + +<p>"About fifty feet, maybe a little less."</p> + +<p>"That ought to be enough. Let's go home."</p> + +<p>Rick swung the Cub in a circle until they were facing the direction of +the mainland according to compass reading, then he leveled off. "I +wonder what they thought about the plane overhead," he said.</p> + +<p>"It probably scared them stiff," Scotty replied. "Chances are Brad +Marbek had a good idea who it was."</p> + +<p>The one thing they had overlooked in their plan was Brad's possible +reaction to seeing the plane, Rick realized suddenly. Great grinning +goldfish! What if he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> really got scared? They might have defeated +their own purpose by making him jettison his contraband!</p> + +<p>Then he reasoned that Brad wouldn't dump his cargo if he could help +it. Anything worth smuggling was too valuable to be dumped just +because two kids saw it transferred. But still . . .</p> + +<p>"If I were Brad," he said, "I'd get up a full head of steam for Creek +House and unload that stuff. How about you?"</p> + +<p>"Because you'd be afraid those two wild men in the airplane would +report it to the police? Maybe you're right, Rick. We'd better get +Captain Douglas and his men on the job right away!"</p> + +<p>The street lights of Whiteside were in sight now. Rick took a bearing +from them and swung slightly northward to pick up the airport. Then he +saw the beacon. He had not bothered to climb after leaving the ships, +so he passed over Spindrift at an altitude of five hundred feet. He +knew his parents would hear the Cub and know he had returned this far +safely. His palms were moist with perspiration and he had to swallow +to clear his throat. Now that the moment of landing was here, his +nervousness was returning. He leaned forward, watching for the airport +marker lights and saw them directly ahead. The airport wasn't big or +important enough to rate runway lights or a lighted wind sock, but +those wouldn't have helped much anyway. He knew from watching the sea +that the wind was negligible. And anywhere he landed on the field +would be all right.</p> + +<p>He throttled down and the nose automatically dropped to the correct +glide position. Then, as he saw the red marker lights rushing to meet +him, he threw on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> the landing lights. White swaths of light picked out +trees and the boundary fence. The Cub flashed across into the open, +dropping steadily. The ground seemed to come up appallingly fast, but +Rick kept his nerve. It was only an illusion, he knew. The Cub was at +the correct approach angle. But the illusion made it hard to tell when +to level off. He waited a second too long, and his wheels touched and +the Cub bounced. He threw power into the engine and the little plane +lifted into the air once more.</p> + +<p>"Tricky," he muttered when Scotty looked at him.</p> + +<p>Scotty sat up a little straighter. "You're telling me?"</p> + +<p>Rick went around the airport again and banked around tightly into the +approach. His jaw was set firmly and he watched the field so closely +that his eyes watered. He'd make it this time! He cut the gun and the +nose dropped. He waited as the runway came up, trying to gauge his +height by the grass that showed clearly in the landing lights. Slowly +he eased the control wheel back and the plane leveled off. Slowly and +more slowly. They were eating up runway rapidly. Scotty shot him an +anxious look. Then, with feather lightness, the wheels touched. The +tail settled gracefully and they were on the ground. Rick applied the +brakes and the Cub slowed to a stop. He wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p>Scotty leaned over and solemnly shook hands.</p> + +<p>Rick gave the plane the gun again and taxied rapidly to the hangar, +switching out his lights as he went.</p> + +<p>Made it, he thought jubilantly. First night flight, safely over. And +that's not all. We got what we went after!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h2>Enter the Police</h2> + + +<p>Duke Barrows was waiting at the hangar when Rick and Scotty got out of +the Cub. "I can see the headlines now," he greeted them with a grin. +"Young Birdmen Fly by Night. Subhead: Get Up Early to Catch Worms Who +Break Law."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of getting up early," Rick retorted. He pointed to where +growing paleness in the east announced the coming of daylight. "How +did you know we'd be landing?"</p> + +<p>"My house is near here," Duke reminded them. "I heard you buzz the +field a while ago and I knew you must have gotten the call. So I +dressed and came over. I hadn't gone to sleep after getting home, +anyway. Editors of morning papers are night owls, remember. Well, how +did it go?"</p> + +<p>Rick reached into the Cub and drew out his camera. He held it up +triumphantly. "The evidence is in here," he said happily. "We caught +'em in the act, Duke." Then he sobered. "But we're worried." He told +the editor about their misgivings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hmmmm." Barrows gazed at the night sky reflectively. "I agree that +Marbek probably wouldn't throw the stuff overboard, but he might +streak for port. I think we'd better give Captain Douglas a call. We +want state troopers waiting at Creek House when the <i>Albatross</i> +arrives."</p> + +<p>Scotty groaned. "If they go now, that means we won't get any sleep."</p> + +<p>"You hadn't better plan on going with the troopers," Duke said. "They +probably prefer to handle things their own way. Besides, it might mean +waiting all day. I'd say it was more important for you to get that +film developed. I don't suppose you saw the name of the ship Marbek +was getting his stuff from?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't even think about it," Rick confessed. "I planned to, then +when the time came it slipped my mind completely. I was too busy +flying the plane and taking pictures."</p> + +<p>Duke looked at the camera curiously. Rick had described it to him. +"It's hard to believe that you actually got pictures at night. I'm +anxious to see them."</p> + +<p>"Me, too," Scotty agreed.</p> + +<p>"Let's get organized," Barrows said. "First of all, how do you plan to +get the film developed?"</p> + +<p>"There's a lab in New York that gives 24-hour service. They can +develop infrared, too. I hate to think how much they will charge me."</p> + +<p>"Can individual frames of the film be blown up and made into decent +pictures?"</p> + +<p>Rick nodded. "The result looks a little grainy, but it can be done."</p> + +<p>"All right. Give me exclusive rights to use the pic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>tures and the +paper will pay for them. Let me have the film and the address of the +lab. I'll send Jerry to New York with them first thing this morning. +Then we can have them back tomorrow. Is that okay with you?"</p> + +<p>"Swell."</p> + +<p>"Good. Now let's hop into my car and take a run over to the State +Police Barracks. We'll get Captain Douglas out of bed and you can tell +him your story. He'll know how to carry the ball from there."</p> + +<p>Scotty got the binoculars from the Cub. He and Rick staked the plane +down, then hurried to the editor's car.</p> + +<p>The police barracks were just outside of town on the Newark turnpike. +Captain Douglas was in bed, but he got up quickly enough when the +sergeant on duty gave him the names of the three visitors. Rick +described their night's work while the officer finished dressing. When +he had finished, Captain Douglas, a strapping man who had been a +Marine officer before retiring and joining the state force, nodded +briskly.</p> + +<p>"Good work, Rick. I want to see that film the minute you know whether +your camera worked well enough for evidence. Now, m'lads, I've got to +get to work. Instead of barging into Creek House with sirens wailing, +I just think I'll put a pair of my boys in civilian clothes on the +job, one on the water front and the other at the bridge. I have a pair +of squad cars without insignia or state license plates that will be +useful, and both of them are radio-equipped. The minute this trawler +shows up, we'll know about it and we'll move in on them. I'll ask for +a search warrant soon as I can get someone on the phone at the main +office. How does that strike you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It sounds all right," Rick said. "But where do we come in?"</p> + +<p>"You don't," Captain Douglas retorted. "You go home and go to bed. The +only thing you could do would be to hang around here all day waiting, +because we couldn't let you go to Seaford and perhaps tip off the gang +by accident. They must know it was your plane, and they're crazy if +they don't assume you'll call the police. If no police show up and you +don't either, it may lull their suspicions somewhat. Tell you what. +I'll phone Duke, or have the desk man do it, the minute we hear +anything and he can phone you."</p> + +<p>And with that, the two boys had to be content. Rick ran the rest of +the film through his camera, unloaded it, and handed the can of film +to Duke Barrows. The editor drove them to the boat landing. "With any +luck," he said as they got from the car, "we may let folks read all +about it within a couple of days. See you later, fellows."</p> + +<p>Although it was scarcely daylight, Mr. and Mrs. Brant were already up +and having an early breakfast. Rick knew it was just that they had +worried about Scotty and him, and he felt a little thrill of pride in +them. Even though they had worried, they had confidence in him and so +they had let him go. He was glad that he and Scotty always had played +square with them, sharing their adventures and discussing their +problems.</p> + +<p>Over breakfast, the boys related the story of their night flight while +the Brants listened with interest. "It wasn't bad at all," Rick +finished. "I did have one tough moment when we landed the first time, +because I was a little too tense. But the second time was smooth as +anything."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm glad you went right to Ed Douglas," Hartson Brant said +approvingly. "These kinds of jobs belong to the law, Rick. An amateur +can go only so far, and then if he's wise, he calls the police."</p> + +<p>They had barely finished breakfast when the phone rang. It was Cap'n +Mike. He said that he had been standing on first one leg then the +other ever since he first phoned, and would they please tell him what +had happened.</p> + +<p>Scotty obliged with a dramatic report and Cap'n Mike exclaimed his +delight so loudly that Rick could hear him half the room away. Scotty +hung up and grinned. "He's going to sort of wander over to that part +of town himself, just to keep track of what's going on."</p> + +<p>"Hope he doesn't attract any attention," Rick said.</p> + +<p>"He's too smart for that. Well, what now? To bed to catch up on that +sleep we missed?"</p> + +<p>Rick couldn't have slept a wink, and he said as much. He was too wound +up. "Let's go back to Whiteside," he suggested. "It's full daylight +now and one of us might as well bring the Cub back."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," Scotty offered. "You've been getting all the practice, +and you're the one who doesn't need it."</p> + +<p>On the way over by boat, Rick reviewed again the events of the night. +"Funny that the freighter was heading south," he said. In the cold +light of day, his speculation that there might be a whole smuggling +ring up and down the coast didn't look too sensible. "Of course she +may have reached there before Brad showed up and circled while she was +waiting. We didn't hang around to see if she headed north again after +they finished unloading."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That could be it," Scotty nodded. "Probably is. Listen, what happens +to the freighter if the police catch Brad with the goods?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say. Ordinarily, I'd think the police would call for the Coast +Guard to go intercept them. But we're not sure of the identity of the +ship."</p> + +<p>"We missed there," Scotty said. "Has it occurred to you that we're +going to be the star witnesses if this comes to trial?"</p> + +<p>Rick shook his head. "Not necessarily. If the State Police catch Brad +and the Kelsos with the goods, they won't need us for anything. But if +they identify the ship that supplied them, they may need us there."</p> + +<p>"Unless it's a foreign ship."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"They were outside the twelve-mile limit," Scotty pointed out. "That's +the high seas. I'm not up on my international law, but I doubt if the +United States could do much about something done by a foreign ship on +the high seas."</p> + +<p>"Never thought of that," Rick admitted.</p> + +<p>He dropped Scotty at the landing, then turned the launch back to +Spindrift. Once in his own room, however, he was too restless to do +anything, even to sleep. He walked out to the lab building and sat +down on the steps, looking out to sea. It was a beautiful morning. +Soon as Scotty got back he would suggest a swim.</p> + +<p>In a short time he looked up to see Scotty approaching from Whiteside. +He watched critically as Scotty swung wide and banked into the +approach over the lab building, then settled smoothly to the grass. He +nodded approval. Scotty was a natural flier. He excelled at any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>thing +requiring a high degree of co-ordination between body and mind.</p> + +<p>Rick walked to meet him. "What kept you?"</p> + +<p>Scotty climbed out and they staked the plane down. "Jerry picked me up +on the way to the airport. We talked for a while. He had the film and +was taking it into New York."</p> + +<p>Both of them walked with less spring in their steps than usual. +Knowing that nothing was in sight but waiting was a letdown after the +activity of the predawn hours. But Captain Douglas had spoken and that +was that.</p> + +<p>"Wonder if we'll ever be able to prove that the Kelsos wrecked the +<i>Sea Belle</i>?" Rick mused. "Even if the police catch them cold on a +smuggling charge that won't necessarily tie them up with Captain +Tyler."</p> + +<p>"That's right." Scotty bent and plucked a sprig of mint from the patch +next to the house and chewed it absently. "But we'll be able to show +motive and method once they're in jail and Tyler can talk. And with +Captain Killian's evidence, that will clear Tyler anyway. Why should +we worry whether the Kelsos get caught for that as long as he's +cleared? We'll have them on the smuggling charge."</p> + +<p>"I guess so." Rick felt tired. "How about a quick swim? Then we can +crawl into bed and take a nap."</p> + +<p>"Good idea. What are we waiting for?"</p> + +<p>The water was too good to abandon after a few quick dips, however, and +they alternately swam and lazed in the sun until lunchtime. Only after +a good lunch of several sandwiches and almost a quart of milk apiece<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +did they feel like taking a nap. Then Rick said, "No word. I guess +that does it. Either Brad is ignoring our flying over him or he has +dumped his cargo. I'd like to know which. Otherwise, he would have put +into Creek House long ago."</p> + +<p>"Looks that way. But I'm too drowsy to care. Go on to bed and let me +do likewise. We'll know soon enough what happened."</p> + +<p>Rick undressed, drew his shades and crawled in, luxuriating in the +comfort of cool sheets. But it wasn't easy to drop off to sleep. His +active mind persisted in going over and over the events at Seaford +like a record stuck in a groove, but after a while he slept.</p> + +<p>He didn't even hear the phone when it rang. Scotty had to wake him. +Then, drowsily, he and Scotty went down the hall.</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Barrows," Mrs. Brant called from below.</p> + +<p>"I'll take it," Rick said. He picked up the phone. "This is Rick, +Duke."</p> + +<p>"Bad news," the editor said. "It's all over, and nothing came out of +it."</p> + +<p>Rick woke up sharply. "What? But, Duke, we saw them load!"</p> + +<p>"Tough luck. Brad came in at the usual time and Douglas was waiting +for him. They went over that ship from stem to stern and didn't turn +up a single thing."</p> + +<p>Rick realized that it was dark outside. Mother had let them sleep +right through dinner.</p> + +<p>"But the crates in the marsh," he exclaimed. "How about those?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gone," Duke said. "There wasn't a thing but flattened reeds and muddy +water."</p> + +<p>Scotty had been holding his ear close to the phone. "Brad must have +jettisoned his cargo," he said. "We didn't think he would."</p> + +<p>Duke heard him. "Was that Scotty? Well, Rick, if the pictures prove +out, we'll know he must have thrown the stuff overboard. Captain +Douglas has faith in you. He says not to be discouraged."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Rick said hollowly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, one other item of news. I talked with the agent who rented the +Creek House to the Kelsos. They've given him notice that they're +moving out next Saturday. What do you think about that?"</p> + +<p>Rick's shoulders slumped. "Unless they try to pull something between +now and then, we're sunk. Duke, do you realize this may have been +their last load? We might have scared them off with flying over Brad +and then having the police raid them."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so, too. But Captain Douglas says they seemed pretty smug. +They may try it again. By the way, Jerry says the film will be ready +at five tomorrow night. I'll send him into New York early tomorrow and +he can do a few errands for me, then pick up the film on his way +home."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Duke," Rick said. He replaced the receiver and looked at +Scotty. "Did you get all that?"</p> + +<p>Scotty nodded silently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brant called from downstairs. "I saved dinner for you, boys. Want +to come get it now?"</p> + +<p>"Right away," Rick called. "Thanks, Mom."</p> + +<p>He and Scotty slipped robes over their pajamas and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> walked slowly down +the stairs. Neither of them felt much like eating after the phone +call. They had, with undue optimism, written the case off as +practically closed. But now everything seemed as far from a solution +as ever.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h2>Brendan's Marsh</h2> + + +<p>Rick stared out the window at the gathering dusk. "I'd like to know +what's taking Jerry so long with those pictures," he grumbled. "He +should have been here an hour ago."</p> + +<p>Scotty had been trying to read a book. He gave it up as a bad job and +joined Rick at the window. "Maybe he stopped for dinner," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'll put ground glass in his cake next time he comes to dinner if he +has," Rick threatened.</p> + +<p>Jerry had phoned before leaving for New York earlier in the day. After +consultation with Duke, they had agreed that Jerry would bring the +pictures directly to the island, and that Rick and Scotty would leave +the boat at the landing for him to use.</p> + +<p>The editor was as anxious as any of them to see the pictures, but, as +he pointed out, there was no longer any special haste, and he +preferred not to have both himself and Jerry away from the paper at +the same time, especially in the very early or very late evening when +the wire service newscasts were coming in.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick had agreed. He planned to project the film, choose the single +frames that would be the most useful, rephotograph them, and make +enlargements for Duke and Captain Douglas. The rephotographing was +done with a special, inexpensive device that could be purchased at any +photo supply store.</p> + +<p>Scotty opened the window wider and stuck his head out. "Thought I +heard something."</p> + +<p>Rick looked at his watch. It was shortly after eight. "Let's take the +glasses and walk out to the north side," he said. "It won't be +completely dark until around nine, and we'll be able to see him +coming."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute." Scotty held up his hand. "There. I thought I heard +something. He's coming now. I recognize the launch motor."</p> + +<p>Rick started for the door, then he hesitated. "You go meet him. I'll +get the projector set up in the library."</p> + +<p>He ran down the stairs and called, "Mother. Dad. Jerry's coming with +the pictures." Then he hurried into the library, took his folding +screen from the closet and set it up. He got the projector from its +case, plugged it in, using his father's desk as a table, and put on +the take-up reel. He finished focusing just as Scotty and Jerry burst +into the room. Mr. and Mrs. Brant were right behind them.</p> + +<p>"Got a clogged gas line," Jerry explained breathlessly. "I finally got +a man to push me to the nearest gas station. We took the gas line off +at the carburetor and blew it out with compressed air. I didn't dare +take time to find out what had clogged it, because I knew you'd lynch +me."</p> + +<p>"You're forgiven," Rick said. He had already taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> the film from +Jerry and was threading it through the projector gate. He inserted the +loose end in the take-up reel and motioned to Scotty. "Here we go."</p> + +<p>Scotty snapped out the light and Rick started the projector. White +leader ran through the gate, then suddenly, clear as day, there were +two ships below, their center sections brightly illuminated and the +rest fading out slightly toward what had been the edges of the +infrared beam.</p> + +<p>"Excellent, Rick," Hartson Brant said. "Good work, son! That's much +better than I had hoped."</p> + +<p>"Same here, Dad," Rick said, eyes on the screen. The ships appeared to +be whirling slowly, the result of his having taken the picture while +circling in a tight bank. He could see the men on the decks clearly, +and even thought he recognized Brad Marbek. Then, as the angle +changed, he saw Marbek clearly, waving his arm.</p> + +<p>"What flag is that?" Scotty asked suddenly. "There, on the stern of +the freighter."</p> + +<p>The flag was limp because there had been no breeze to speak of, but +part of the design was clear. "I have it," Hartson Brant exclaimed. +"That ship is of Caribbean registry." He named the country, then said, +"Look for the name of the ship."</p> + +<p>But the angle was wrong for that. The name was not within the camera's +view, on either stern or bow.</p> + +<p>The film was running out rapidly now. Rick watched the cargo net swing +over, full of wooden cases, and drop on the deck of the freighter. For +a moment it didn't register, then he yelled. "Hey! Ohmigolly! Did you +see that?" He threw the reverse switch and the film ran backward. The +net lifted from the deck of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> freighter and swung toward the +<i>Albatross</i>. Then he ran it forward again and watched the load settle +to the freighter's deck.</p> + +<p>Scotty yelled, too. "What a pair of chuckleheads! Rick, no wonder we +didn't find anything on the <i>Albatross</i> and neither did Captain +Douglas! They're smuggling stuff <i>out!</i> Not in!"</p> + +<p>The Plimsoll mark! The <i>Albatross</i> had been heavily loaded because +Brad Marbek had <i>taken on the load at Creek House he would deliver +later to the freighter</i>.</p> + +<p>That was why no ships had been listed in the New York paper as being +in the right area at the right time. They had looked for arrival +times, not sailing times.</p> + +<p>That was why the cache of cases was no longer in the marsh behind +Creek House. These pictures were of those cases being loaded on the +freighter!</p> + +<p>The picture ran through and white light flashed on the screen. Scotty +snapped the lights on.</p> + +<p>"We've got to get these pictures to Captain Douglas," Rick exclaimed. +"I'll hurry and rephotograph them right away. It will only take a +moment."</p> + +<p>He hastily rewound the film while Scotty ran ahead to the photo lab. +Hartson Brant said, "Ed will be glad to get those, Rick. But don't get +your hopes too high. The pictures don't show any contraband in those +cases, and that's what you'll need."</p> + +<p>"I know, Dad," Rick replied. "But at least we know now why we've +always been wrong. We were backwards!"</p> + +<p>He hurriedly excused himself, then he and Jerry hurried after Scotty.</p> + +<p>Scotty already had loaded the rephotographing cam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>era with film and +screwed a photo flood bulb into a convenient receptacle. It took Rick +only ten minutes to select the frames he wanted to rephotograph and +finish the operation. Then he gave the rephotographing camera to +Scotty who wound the film all the way through and took it out.</p> + +<p>"Let's develop it," he said, and reached for the shelf to take down a +small developing tank.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" An idea struck Rick. "How do we know Brad isn't going to load +again tonight? Remember the Kelsos have only a few more days at Creek +House."</p> + +<p>Jerry snapped his fingers. "That's right! And I'll bet they're +gloating over hoodwinking the State Police, too. They wouldn't be +afraid to ship <i>out</i> another load, particularly since they know +they're suspected of smuggling stuff <i>in</i> and it might be their last +chance."</p> + +<p>"We can't risk it," Rick said decisively. "We'll take this film to +Whiteside and have the photographer at the paper develop it. How about +that, Jerry?" The reporter nodded agreement and he continued, "While +it's being developed, we can go through the New York papers again and +find out if a ship of Caribbean registry is sailing. About midnight +would be right for a sailing time."</p> + +<p>Scotty reached for the light. "We'd better hurry." He snapped it out +and led the way through the door. He and Jerry went directly to the +boat landing while Rick ran upstairs and picked up his infrared +camera, just in case. If the police raided Creek House tonight, he +intended to be on hand.</p> + +<p>Scotty had chosen the fast speedboat and already had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> the engine +turning over. Rick jumped aboard and they roared toward Whiteside. At +the dock they transferred to Jerry's car and sped through the streets +to the newspaper office. Duke Barrows had just finished with the early +newscast and, taking advantage of the lull, had gone home for dinner; +he would return in about an hour, the photographer said. He was the +only man in the office. Jerry gave him the roll of film on which Rick +had rephotographed the critical scenes from the movie and asked for +two enlargements of each.</p> + +<p>"It's urgent," he said. "Duke will want to see these when he gets +back."</p> + +<p>"He'll have 'em." The photographer headed for the darkroom.</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty didn't wait any longer. They took the file of New York +papers from the rack and hurriedly leafed through them to the proper +dates.</p> + +<p>"Here's one!" Rick found a pencil and jotted down the name of the ship +and its owner. The next date disclosed a ship of the same registry and +owner, but with a different name. They worked rapidly and it took only +a few minutes now that they knew what to look for, and presently they +had the job completed. Jerry, who had been phoning Duke, joined them +and looked over Rick's shoulder as he read aloud.</p> + +<p>"All the same company and registry. It's the Compania Maritima Caribe +y Atlantica." He stumbled a little over the Spanish name. This was +good evidence. He looked at his friends, eyes shining. "Now for +today's paper. Got it Jerry?"</p> + +<p>The reporter found it on Duke's desk and they spread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> it out on a +table. Three heads bent over it. There was no ship of that company and +registry listed as sailing tonight. Then Scotty spotted a separate +listing of ships now loading.</p> + +<p>"Got one! But it's scheduled to sail night after tomorrow. And look! +It's the same ship that was here two weeks ago!"</p> + +<p>Rick sat down at Jerry's desk. He still couldn't escape the feeling of +urgency. He had played his hunches before and he did so now. He leaned +over and picked up a copy of the New York phone directory. With the +others watching curiously, he leafed through it, found the right page +and ran his finger down it until he had the number, then he picked up +Jerry's phone and called it.</p> + +<p>While the operator made the connection, he held his hand over the +mouthpiece. "A hunch. The shipping offices are closed now, but the +Port Director at New York will know."</p> + +<p>A female voice said, "Port of New York Authority."</p> + +<p>"Information on ship sailings, please," Rick requested.</p> + +<p>The operator rang an extension and a male voice answered.</p> + +<p>"I know you don't usually bother with information of this kind," Rick +said, "but this is the Whiteside <i>Morning Record</i> and we need it for +tomorrow's edition. I'd like to know if there is any correction on the +sailing date of this ship." He read off the name and company and the +pier number.</p> + +<p>"Just a minute, Whiteside. I'll be glad to look it up."</p> + +<p>Rick waited tensely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here it is. That ship was supposed to sail Friday night, but the +sailing has been moved up. She leaves tonight at midnight."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Rick said. "Thanks!" He hung up and turned to his friends. +"Tonight's the night! I had a hunch something was up. Of course Brad +and the Kelsos would have the sailing moved up, because they're +frightened. I'll bet tonight will be their last load, then the Kelsos +will clear out and Brad will go back to just fishing."</p> + +<p>"Tonight or never," Scotty echoed. "What do we do now?"</p> + +<p>"Call Captain Douglas." Rick picked up the phone again and asked for +State Police headquarters. There was a little delay while the officer +was called to the phone, then Rick quickly outlined their findings +from the movie film and the New York paper. "If we get down there, we +can catch them in the act of loading," he said. "How about it, +Captain?"</p> + +<p>Captain Douglas hesitated. "I hate to stick my neck out again after +last night, but this looks like a sure thing. We'll need a search +warrant, Rick, and it will take a little time to rout out a judge. And +I'll have to see the pictures first. We have to show cause when we get +a warrant, you know, and the judge will be a little reluctant after +last night."</p> + +<p>"The pictures are being printed now," Rick told him. "You can have +them in a little while."</p> + +<p>"Right. I'll round up the men I need and bring them with me. And I'll +get the judge on the phone and ask him to make out the warrant and +promise to show him the evidence when I pick it up."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How long will it take?" Rick asked.</p> + +<p>"We'll be on our way in an hour. I'll get going right now."</p> + +<p>The captain hung up. Rick looked at his watch and then at the rapidly +fading light outside. "They won't be in time," he said desperately. +"If they rush the loading, they can have the <i>Albatross</i> out of there. +Then what happens? They'll have to get another warrant to search the +trawler at the pier, and there won't be any evidence to tie the cargo +up with the Kelsos!"</p> + +<p>Scotty held up the infrared camera. "Unless we get it," he said.</p> + +<p>Rick's eyes widened. Go back to Creek House? But even as he shuddered +at the thought of what would happen to them if they were caught again, +he knew there was no other way.</p> + +<p>"Jerry," he said crisply, "we're going on ahead. Run us down to the +dock and we'll get started. Then you come back here and wait for +Captain Douglas and Duke. Give them the pictures and this dope from +the shipping news, and for the love of Rick and Scotty, tell them to +step on it when they start for Seaford!"</p> + +<p>Jerry protested halfheartedly as they sped to the dock, but they +convinced him it would be better for him to wait and impress on the +others the need for speed. He dropped them at the speedboat with a +plea to be careful, then headed back to the office.</p> + +<p>Scotty got behind the wheel while Rick cast off and they roared out to +sea with the throttle wide open. The speedboat climbed to the step and +planed along like a racer, leaving a foaming wake. Then, as they +passed Spindrift Island and met rougher water, it began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> bounce +from one wave crest to the next. Spray swirled over the windshield and +into the boat. Scotty started the wipers. Rick crouched down under the +dashboard and rechecked his camera, trying out the infrared dynamo and +the camera motor. Just to be on the safe side, he had brought the +camera case, which contained the extra film and a tripod. Now he got +the tripod ready but waited to see what would happen before he placed +the camera on it.</p> + +<p>He sat back in the seat, satisfied that everything was in readiness, +and looked around him. Suddenly he stiffened. There were ship running +lights on the horizon. The trawler fleet was returning to Seaford, and +Brad Marbek would be among them! He leaned over and switched out their +own running lights.</p> + +<p>Scotty glanced around, saw the masthead lights, and nodded his +understanding.</p> + +<p>"Better make a plan," he suggested. "What do we do when we get there?"</p> + +<p>"Stick our heads into the lion's mouth," Rick replied unhappily. "I +hate to try getting into the Creek House grounds again after last +time!"</p> + +<p>"Do we have to? How about watching from the boat?"</p> + +<p>"We couldn't get near enough without being seen. Wait! We could at +that!" Rick struggled to remember details of the photo they had taken +showing the marsh opposite Creek House. "We could go into the marsh. +Remember that inlet nearest the creek? That branched off in the right +direction. There are emergency oars in this and we could use them as +poles and shove our way in. We might get close enough."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And if we don't, we can wade the rest of the way." Scotty leaned over +and wiped mist from the windshield. "Good idea." He laughed, without +mirth. "Brad and the two redheads would have a fine time chasing us +through the swamp. Here's one pigeon they'd never catch."</p> + +<p>"Make it two pigeons," Rick corrected.</p> + +<p>They were making good time, even though the slapping of the speedboat +over the rough water was giving them a bad jouncing. They roared past +the last group of summer cottages before Brendan's Marsh, leaving a +wake that set the boats anchored near the shore to rocking.</p> + +<p>At Rick's suggestion, Scotty throttled down as they swept along the +edge of the marsh. The noise of the wide-open engine might be heard at +Creek House and arouse suspicion. Then, as Smugglers' Light neared and +they knew they were getting close, Scotty throttled down still more. +Rick unlashed the pair of oars from their position along the gunwale +and got them ready. It was fully dark now and difficult to see, +although the moon was rising.</p> + +<p>Scotty leaned over and cut the ignition. "Don't dare to use the engine +any nearer than this," he said, his voice low.</p> + +<p>Rick saw that they were perilously near the creek mouth. He turned to +look at the incoming trawlers and saw the nearest one almost abeam of +them a quarter mile out. "Watch for that inlet," he whispered. "And +let's get into the next seat back. The windshield will interfere if we +try to paddle from here." He hadn't rigged the oarlocks, knowing they +would be unable to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> row in the narrow inlet. They would have to use +the oars as paddles.</p> + +<p>They climbed over the seat back and each took an oar, kneeling like +canoeists. Rick was on the inland side, and he saw the inlet mouth +first. "Here," he whispered, and backed water with his oar. The bow of +the boat swung around.</p> + +<p>Rushes and marsh grass scraped past them. The lights of Creek House +were still invisible. Rick strained his eyes to see; it was almost +inky black in the tall rushes. Then Scotty reached out and felt with +his oar.</p> + +<p>"Left turn," he whispered. He had found the inlet branch that led +toward the hotel. Now he backed water, trying not to splash, while +Rick poled ahead. The boat swung into the narrow channel, reeds +touching it on both sides and making a hissing noise as they +progressed.</p> + +<p>"Only a few feet of water," Rick said softly. "And mud at the bottom." +Each time he lifted his oar he felt the weight of a ball of muck on +the end.</p> + +<p>The boat slid gently to a stop. Both boys put their weight on the +oars, but it moved only two feet ahead then stopped once more. They +put their heads together and discussed it in a low whisper because +they were near the creek.</p> + +<p>"We're aground," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>"Guess we get out and walk," Rick returned. "Better take our shoes and +socks off. It will be muddy."</p> + +<p>"We'll be lucky if we don't sink in up to our necks."</p> + +<p>Scotty took his arm suddenly. Rick started to ask what was the matter, +then he heard it, too. The cough of a Diesel engine exhaust and the +clanking of gear told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> him that a ship was nearing. A shiver ran +through him. Brad Marbek, coming in to load!</p> + +<p>"Let's step on it, he whispered. He sat down and removed his shoes and +socks, then climbed up on the gunwale and walked forward, brushing +against the rushes but trying not to make too much noise. He took his +oar and shoved straight down from the bow. There was about a foot of +water, then another eighteen inches of mud before the bottom firmed. +It would be hard going. He started back, but Scotty came to meet him, +carrying the camera and power pack.</p> + +<p>"The tripod," Rick requested in a low whisper. "If the ground is so +soft I can't get a firm stance, I'll need it."</p> + +<p>Scotty handed him the equipment, then went back and got the tripod. +Rick screwed the camera into place with a few turns of the tripod nut. +Scotty disconnected the power cord that led from the power pack to the +camera and coiled it up. They could reconnect it when they needed it. +Meanwhile, it would interfere with their progress. He slung the power +pack over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Rick put the camera and tripod on the deck, then turned his back to +the creek and lowered himself. The water was cold and the muck seemed +to reach up for him. He felt firmer ground under his toes and let +himself go, then held his hands within reach of the boat as he +continued to sink. He was up to his thighs when the ground finally +held. He reached up and took the camera, holding it high in the air, +and started forward.</p> + +<p>Each step was an effort. He had to lift his leg high before each step, +and the mud clung. Behind him, he heard the sucking, splashing, of +Scotty's progress.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the ground began to get firmer until at last there was only a +thin film of water and about a foot of mud. The lights of Creek House +could be seen through the rushes now. He held up his hand as a warning +to Scotty. They were close to the bank. In a moment he parted the +reeds and looked through. Scotty moved to his side. The <i>Albatross</i> +was tying up at Creek House pier, and Brad Marbek was just leaping to +the dock where the Kelsos waited. But the boys were too far down +toward the creek mouth. They would have to move along the bank. Rick +gave Scotty a little push in that direction and Scotty understood. He +went back into the marsh a few feet, then led the way.</p> + +<p>It was easier going, but still far from pleasant. The muck gave every +step a slurping sound, and it clung in gobs. Then the vantage point +Scotty selected was reached, directly opposite the pier. They parted +the rushes slightly and looked out.</p> + +<p>The crew of the <i>Albatross</i> was climbing down under the pier. As the +boys watched, they poled out a shallow-draft, broad-beamed rowboat +about fifteen feet long. It was the barge on which the contraband had +waited in the swamp.</p> + +<p>Rick put his lips to Scotty's ear. "Wonder why Captain Douglas didn't +see that?"</p> + +<p>"He probably did. It wouldn't mean anything with the cargo gone."</p> + +<p>Sensible, Rick thought. There would have been no occasion for the +captain to mention it. He searched for a bit of firmer ground on which +to rest the camera and found it. He began to worry about the hum of +the dynamo. Would it be heard when they turned it on?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> And the +filament of the infrared searchlight would be visible, too, against +the dark background of the marsh. Did they dare try it?</p> + +<p>The crew of the <i>Albatross</i> was in the flatboat—it scarcely could be +called a rowboat—already heading upstream. The Kelsos and Marbek +walked toward the house.</p> + +<p>Good! That would give them a chance to try the camera. Rick waited +impatiently until the boat rounded the turn leading to Salt Creek +Bridge, then he sighted in on the <i>Albatross</i>, checked his settings, +and started both the camera and infrared light. The dynamo and camera +motor hummed quietly. He breathed a sigh of relief. Surely that much +sound would blend imperceptibly with the normal night noises. Peepers +in the fresher water upstream made more noise than that. He walked +ahead of the camera and peered into the infrared searchlight. If +anyone looked real closely, they might see it. He hoped the men on the +opposite shore would be too busy to glance his way.</p> + +<p>He switched off the mechanism and settled down to wait. His trousers +were wet and heavy with mud, and his legs and feet were chilled. +Mosquitoes whined around his head and little gnats settled down for a +meal on his exposed neck and head. He began to wonder if it was worth +it.</p> + +<p>Carrots Kelso came out of the house, and he had his rifle. The boys +watched as he disappeared behind the hotel, taking up his position as +guard.</p> + +<p>Each minute had lead in its shoes. Why didn't the boat return? And +then, suddenly, it was rounding the bend! Rick moved behind the camera +and loosened the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>pan-head. He swung the lens upstream. Scotty parted +the rushes for him and he began to shoot. Infrared illuminated the +boat clearly. He saw the faces of the crew, saw the cases stacked from +stem to stem and even read their labels. Hummer sewing machines. He +didn't believe for a moment that there were really sewing machines in +them, but he couldn't guess their actual content.</p> + +<p>He stopped shooting and rewound the camera while Scotty cranked the +dynamo spring, then he took another brief sequence, stopped, and +waited. No more now until they actually reached the dock and started +to transfer the stuff.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came out of the hotel and he started +shooting again, then he switched to a telephoto lens and took a +close-up of their faces as they watched the boat draw near.</p> + +<p>Carrots appeared around the front of the hotel and Rick got him, too, +before he vanished again, patrolling the grounds.</p> + +<p>The boat touched the dock. A crewman leaped to the place where Kelso +and Marbek stood. There was conversation with much gesturing and +pointing into the boat. Then the crewman jumped down again and +motioned to one of his fellows. Rick started shooting. Clearly, as +though it were day, he saw the two bend over something in the bow. +They heaved upright and a chill shot through him. A man, bound and +gagged! Then they turned the man over to hand him up to the dock and +Rick's teeth clamped on his lip so hard that he groaned.</p> + +<p>It was Jerry Webster!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h2>The Fight at Creek House</h2> + + +<p>Rick and Scotty watched helplessly as Jerry was carried into the +hotel, then they looked at each other wordlessly. In a moment the +seamen who had carried him returned, but Brad and Red didn't.</p> + +<p>The one who had first reported to Brad, probably the mate or bosun, +stood on the dock and called to the men in the boat. The boys could +hear him clearly. "Let's get busy. We've got to load this stuff fast."</p> + +<p>One of the men in the boat asked, "What they going to do with the +kid?"</p> + +<p>"Find out what he knows, then knock him on the head and shove him +under the fish until we're out where we can dump him."</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty grabbed for each other at the same time. They knew +without speaking what they had to do. Rick snatched up the camera, +hauling it out of the muck recklessly. He pulled the power plug and +Scotty reeled it in. They plowed through the swamp as fast as they +could without making too much of a disturbance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> Scotty led the way, +cutting straight through the marsh to the boat, his highly developed +direction sense showing him the way.</p> + +<p>It seemed forever to Rick, but it was actually only a few minutes +before they were climbing into the boat. "What do we do?" he asked +desperately as he stowed the camera. "If we start the boat, they'll +hear it, and it would take too long to pole out."</p> + +<p>"Swim," Scotty said tersely. "It's faster. Get out of your clothes, +but tie the laces of your shoes together and hang the shoes around +your neck. We'll need 'em."</p> + +<p>Quickly they stripped to their shorts, then draped shoes around their +necks and slipped into the mud again. The water deepened rapidly and +they began to swim with a noiseless side stroke. Rick followed Scotty, +knowing that his friend was at his best in a situation like this.</p> + +<p>They reached the edge of the marsh and angled along its edge, swimming +strongly. Rick was in an agony of fear for Jerry. How had he gotten +caught? And where? Scotty slowed, then stopped. The sudden feel of +sluggish current warned Rick they were at the creek mouth.</p> + +<p>"Watch the splashes," Scotty whispered. "We'll cross to the outside of +the fence."</p> + +<p>For the next few moments they would be vulnerable if Carrots Kelso +happened to walk to the bank and look across. It had to be chanced. +Scotty started out and Rick drew abreast of him. They swam cautiously, +making no noise or splash, reached the opposite bank safely and +crawled up the beach until they were sure the fence hid them from any +watchers at Creek House.</p> + +<p>"Got to draw Carrots to the back side of the hotel,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> Scotty +whispered. "Then we can get in through the creek side of the fence. +But how?"</p> + +<p>Rick thought quickly. If they could make some sort of noise on the +other side ... but it would take too long to go over there and then +come back again and it wouldn't be safe to enter near where they made +the noise, anyway. He started to put on his shoes, and as his fingers +touched the strings, an idea blossomed. "Hunt for a piece of rope or +wire," he said swiftly, and began running down the reef, eyes +searching the dark ground. Scotty went to the other side and began to +search, too. Rick knew they would find what he wanted on the wreck of +the trawler but hoped he wouldn't have to go that far. He was in luck. +He stumbled over a loop of rusty wire, grabbed it, and heaved. It came +free. Swiftly his fingers explored it. About eight feet. That was +good. Probably it had been buried when the part of the reef nearest +the hotel had been filled in with trash to make a parking area. He had +noticed odds and ends of junk around. He ran over to Scotty and told +him what else was needed and they both hunted until they found a +jagged piece of metal that would suit. It weighed about two pounds, +and it had holes along one edge, probably originally drilled for +rivets. They unkinked the wire carefully, then Rick passed one end +through a hole in the steel and made it fast while Scotty bent a loop +in the other end and wound the wire around itself to make a handhold.</p> + +<p>"You do it," Rick whispered.</p> + +<p>Scotty put a hand through the loop he had made and gripped it tight, +then he went as close to the hotel fence as he could without raising +the trajectory too high and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> began to whirl the contraption around his +head. Faster and faster he whirled it until it began to whine, then +with all the momentum of his body he released it.</p> + +<p>The missile soared away in a long, low arc, past the hotel and on. The +boys waited, not breathing, and heard it crunch through the reeds on +the far side of the hotel. They ran to the creek end of the fence and +looked around. The men at the pier were looking toward the marsh +behind the garage. Red Kelso was walking that way and Carrots was +running, rifle lifted.</p> + +<p>Scotty and Rick rounded the corner and ran silently to the front of +the hotel. Now to find Jerry! Rick stepped to the front porch and +tried the door. It was unlocked. Taking his nerve in both hands, he +pushed the door open and stepped inside.</p> + +<p>It was quiet in the hotel. He knew the layout; they had explored every +inch of it. He led the way toward the kitchen, then flattened against +the wall of the hallway as he saw the light streaming through. He felt +Scotty brush against him. Rick leaned forward, keeping his face in the +shadow, just as Brad Marbek, his curiosity getting the better of him, +walked to the side door and stepped out.</p> + +<p>Rick took a long step into the kitchen. No one in it. Then he saw a +lighted doorway across the room. It was a good bet. With his eyes on +the door through which Brad had gone, he trotted swiftly across the +floor. Scotty was right behind him.</p> + +<p>Rick smothered an exclamation as he saw Jerry. The reporter was seated +in a chair, tied fast to it. The gag, a bundle of rags, had been +stuffed into his mouth. There was a bad bruise over his left eye and +another on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> left temple. Rick was at his side in three long steps. +He jerked the gag from Jerry's mouth, cautioned him to silence, and +started to untie him. Scotty went to the window, which fortunately +faced the Seaford side of the house, and leaned out.</p> + +<p>Rick heard Brad call, "Find anyone?" Then a faint answering call. "No +one here."</p> + +<p>"Hurry," Scotty whispered. He went to the door and stood to one side +of it, looking into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Rick tugged at a recalcitrant knot, then got it loose. Jerry stood up, +hands still tied behind him. Rick fought with the knot and wished for +a knife.</p> + +<p>There were footsteps in the kitchen. Rick's fingers got a hold and he +heaved. The footsteps came closer. Scotty crouched. Brad Marbek +entered the room and stepped into a terrific roundhouse swing with all +of Scotty's frantic weight behind it. Brad stumbled backward and fell, +and he roared.</p> + +<p>"They're in the house! Cover the doors!"</p> + +<p>He got to his feet and his powerful legs drove him forward. Scotty +stepped directly into his way.</p> + +<p>The rope loosened in Rick's hand. He unwound Jerry, working as fast as +he could. He turned just in time to see Brad's arms reach for Scotty. +The fisherman's face was distorted in a snarl and blood trickled from +his cut lip.</p> + +<p>Scotty back-pedaled swiftly. He took Brad's out-stretched hands, then +fell backward, feet lifting, catching Brad in the stomach. Scotty +heaved. The heave and the smuggler's momentum shot him headlong. He +smashed into the wall.</p> + +<p>Scotty leaped to his feet. "Run!" he yelled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rick propelled Jerry into the kitchen, and as they started across the +room he saw Red Kelso at the door. "The front," he called. "Hurry, +Jerry."</p> + +<p>The reporter was fast getting the use of his limbs back. Scotty led +the way to the front hall and Jerry stumbled after him. As Rick passed +through the doorway from the kitchen into the wide hallway he spotted +a cabinet. He grabbed it and tugged. It came away from the wall and he +stepped from under it, letting it crash at an angle across the +passageway. That would hold Red for a few seconds. They sprinted for +the open front door and met Carrots head on just inside the entrance.</p> + +<p>Scotty dove at him. His shoulder caught the redhead in the chest and +slammed him backward. Carrots' arms flew up and the rifle he was +carrying sailed from his grasp and slid across the porch to the +sidewalk. The boys started to pile out over him, then they stopped +short. Two of the crew were pounding up the sidewalk, leaping to the +steps, and they carried clubs!</p> + +<p>They were trapped! "Up the stairs," Rick said hoarsely.</p> + +<p>Scotty bent over the fallen Carrots and jerked him to his feet. +"You're coming with us," he grated.</p> + +<p>Rick was already halfway to the stairs. Red Kelso was climbing over +the blockade in the hallway, Brad Marbek behind him. Rick stopped. +"Hurry, Scotty!"</p> + +<p>"Hostage," Scotty grunted. He took Carrots' arm in a Japanese +wristlock and rushed him across the room. Carrots struggled, then let +out a yelp. It was either go peacefully or break his own arm. "Run," +Scotty commanded, and Carrots ran, up the stairs. Jerry followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> and +Rick brought up the rear. Their pursuers were gaining!</p> + +<p>Rick's mind raced as he climbed two stairs at a time, reconstructing +the plan of the house. He rejected the idea of barricading themselves +in a room on the second or third floor; the halls would give their +enemies too much room for a battering rush against the door. "The +attic," he called ahead to Scotty, "and step on it! They're gaining!"</p> + +<p>They crossed the second-floor landing and went up the stairs to the +third. At the top of the third landing was a rusty bucket, full of +sand. Rick knew, because he had been forced to dig through the sand. +It was evidently a relic of Coast Guard occupancy, placed there to +extinguish incendiaries. He pressed hard against Jerry's heels, +hearing the thud of footsteps on the stairs behind him and the cries +of "Get 'em" from Red Kelso.</p> + +<p>Scotty, Carrots, and Jerry sprinted for the attic stairs. Rick paused +long enough to scoop up the bucket of sand. He hurled it after him, +straight into the faces of the smugglers and found time for a grin at +their yells and curses.</p> + +<p>The attic stairs led straight up, with no landing at the top. The door +was ajar. Rick's trick had gained a little time. They went through it +with seconds to spare, and Rick slammed it shut. "Find a light," he +gasped. "There's one up here." He remembered a tiny bulb, high in the +ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Key," Scotty snapped. "In the door. Outside. It was there last time."</p> + +<p>Rick opened the door and had a quick glimpse of dark figures rushing +up the stairs. He fumbled for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> key, jerked it loose, and slammed +the door. With his shoulder against it he inserted the key on their +side and twisted it just as bodies thumped against the other side.</p> + +<p>Jerry found the light switch and turned it on. Carrots, lips drawn +tight, was bent over in the judo hold Scotty had on him. Rick found a +few old pieces of overstuffed furniture, too disreputable to have been +moved or sold, and he and Jerry pushed them against the door.</p> + +<p>"If we can hold out," Jerry said between swollen lips, "Captain +Douglas will get here."</p> + +<p>"If!" Rick echoed.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso called through the door. "Okay, you kids. Open up and we'll +make things easy on you. But if we have to break the door down, it'll +be rugged."</p> + +<p>The boys looked at each other. Carrots grinned. Rick didn't like the +grin. He yelled back, "Try to come through that door and we throw your +son out the window!"</p> + +<p>Carrots turned white.</p> + +<p>"Stop talking like a fool and open up," Kelso demanded.</p> + +<p>"We warned you," Rick yelled.</p> + +<p>There was a solid thump as shoulders hit the door. Rick cast a +desperate look at Scotty. The door wouldn't hold long. Scotty winked +at Rick and jerked his chin at Carrots' back.</p> + +<p>"Out the window with him," Rick growled. He lunged forward and took +the boy's legs. Jerry, who had caught the wink too, took his shoulders +while Scotty kept a wristlock clamped tight. They rushed Carrots to +the window and Rick let go long enough to throw up the sash. Then they +lifted Carrots to the sill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pop!" he screamed. "They're throwing me out!"</p> + +<p>The thumping at the door ceased. The elder Kelso called, "Keep your +head, Jimmy. They don't dare. They know we're comin' in, anyway, and +if they throw you out they haven't got a chance."</p> + +<p>Kelso had spoken the exact truth, and the boys knew it. They let +Carrots slump to the floor. "Get close," Scotty said. He spoke into +Carrots' ear. "One peep out of you and I'll break your arm. Listen. +We've got to have help and quick. Who's the fastest runner?"</p> + +<p>"Jerry," Rick said promptly. The reporter had been a sprinting +champion in school. "Are you okay now?"</p> + +<p>"Fine. What's your plan?"</p> + +<p>A door panel splintered as shoulders crashed against it. Good thing +there was little space to stand out there. The smugglers couldn't get +much leverage. Scotty talked fast. "We'll unblock the door and open it +suddenly, then, Rick, you dive into the mob. They'll be off balance +because the stairs are steep. Jerry, you'll have to leap for it, over +their heads, and try to get away." He was behind Carrots and his wink +was concealed. "Carrots will help us."</p> + +<p>"I won't," Carrots stated.</p> + +<p>"You will," Scotty corrected, "and you'll say 'Pop, hold it a minute. +They want to talk it over.' Just like that." He twisted his hand +slightly and Carrots yelped.</p> + +<p>Scotty marched him to the door. Rick and Jerry slid the furniture +away. The door was close to giving in now, the hinges starting to pull +loose. Rick put one hand on the key and the other on the knob, hoping +he had interpreted Scotty's wink correctly. Jerry crouched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> to one +side of the door. Scotty held Carrots directly in front of it and +commanded: "Speak your piece."</p> + +<p>Carrots did, willingly, under the pressure of Scotty's hand.</p> + +<p>The thumping stopped.</p> + +<p>"What do they want to talk over?" Kelso demanded.</p> + +<p>Scotty nodded. Rick spun the key and jerked the door open. Carrots, +all of Scotty's driving weight behind him, catapulted headlong and +smashed into the men on the stairs like a battering ram. They tumbled +down under the impact like a row of dominoes, and Jerry went out the +door as though shot from a crossbow. His flying feet struck backs, +legs, and spurned faces. He gained the landing in a mad dive, +scrambled to his feet, and was gone.</p> + +<p>The smugglers clambered to their feet, or tried to. "After him," +Marbek bellowed.</p> + +<p>Red Kelso had fallen backward, and his legs were almost at the door. +Scotty and Rick grabbed simultaneously and heaved, sending the upper +men sprawling again. Then the boys withdrew and slammed and locked the +door. Jerry had had the advantage of complete surprise, and his +momentum had gotten him past the men on the lower stairs. Rick and +Scotty couldn't have made it after the initial shock.</p> + +<p>They pushed the furniture against the door again and drew back. Unless +help was near, they were done for. There was nothing more they could +do except wait, and fight once the door gave. Rick wrenched the leg +from an ancient and broken chair and silently handed it to Scotty. +Then he found one for himself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p>The banging had renewed almost instantly. Scotty went to the window +and looked out. Rick joined him just in time to see Jerry round the +corner of the fence.</p> + +<p>"He made it," Rick said with satisfaction. Two of the seamen crossed +below, but Rick knew they would never catch his friend. He turned to +face the door.</p> + +<p>"Closer," Scotty said.</p> + +<p>They moved closer and took places, one on each side of the door, and +waited.</p> + +<p>Smash. And again, and again. Wood dust flew as hinge screws gave with +a loud screech. The door was just hanging now. One more smash! It flew +inward and Red and Brad charged, two seamen close behind them.</p> + +<p>Rick met Brad Marbek with a lightning thrust of his chair leg, and the +smuggler doubled up. But his great body could absorb more punishment +than Rick could give. He drove forward, brushed aside a swing of the +chair leg, and his arms locked around the boy. Rick groaned as the +steely hug drove the air from him; he felt a hand loosen, and kicked +frantically for Brad's legs, then Brad's free hand caught him behind +the ear, stunning him. Rick slumped to the floor fighting for breath +and consciousness. Across the room, the seamen had Scotty, grabbing +for his flailing arms while Red Kelso stood back and shot punches at +him. Then the seamen got a firm grip and held him fast. Kelso's open +hand slapped, back and forth, until Scotty's head sagged.</p> + +<p>Carrots crawled into the room, his face contorted, one hand on his +ribs. He got to his feet and walked unsteadily over to Scotty. He +swung a roundhouse right. Scotty's head moved an inch. Carrots +missed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> and the force of his swing spun him around and he almost +fell.</p> + +<p>Rick laughed gaspingly.</p> + +<p>Carrots' face turned scarlet. He walked over to where Rick was +struggling for wind and drew his foot back. "I'm goin' to kick your +teeth right down your throat," he grated.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike's voice came from the doorway. "I'd call that mighty +impolite!"</p> + +<p>Rick turned on his side and stared unbelievingly. The old sea captain +stood rock steady in the door, and at his shoulder was Carrots' rifle.</p> + +<p>He spoke calmly. "Only got one shot in here. You could get me before I +had time to pump it up again. Found it on the porch and took me a few +minutes to figure it out. Almost put a slug through my foot doing it. +But I got it in hand now. Got one shot. Who wants it?"</p> + +<p>Marbek took a half step forward and the muzzle swung to cover him. +Cap'n Mike's finger tightened. "You, Brad?"</p> + +<p>Marbek stepped back.</p> + +<p>"Come toward me, both of you," Cap'n Mike said. "Rick and Scotty."</p> + +<p>Rick crawled forward, under the line of fire. Scotty, suddenly +released, dropped to the floor and did the same.</p> + +<p>The smugglers stayed where they were, frozen by the calm threat of the +old man's voice. "Been eel fishing," he said. "Saw that young reporter +skate around the corner with two men after him. Then I noticed Scotty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +and Rick looking out, and I thought I better take a hand. Didn't know +just what to do until I spotted this BB gun in front of the porch."</p> + +<p>His voice hardened as Red Kelso shifted position. "But now I know what +to do."</p> + +<p>Far down Million Dollar Row, Jerry met the State Police cars. And as +Rick grinned up at the Captain, he heard the welcome sound of sirens.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h2>Read All About It!</h2> + + +<p>Jerry Webster came out of the pressroom with a bundle of papers under +his arm, the roar of the presses providing a background for his chant. +"Extra! Read All About It! Spindrifters Smear Smugglers! Seaman Shows +Shootin' Savvy! Simple Sap Scampers, Saves Skin! Read All About It!"</p> + +<p>Rick snatched one of the papers. "Thanks, I will. Hey, gang, listen to +this!" He read the headline aloud. "'Seaford Gunrunners Caught.'"</p> + +<p>Scotty took a paper, too, and read the subhead. "'New Night Movie +Camera Supplies Evidence for Surprise Raid.'" He grinned at Jerry and +Duke Barrows. "Very restrained. Not a purple adjective in the lot."</p> + +<p>Captain Douglas let out a bellow. "Hey! You don't mention the State +Police until the second line of the story. Call a cop someone, I want +these guys pinched."</p> + +<p>"Charge 'em with serving poison coffee," Cap'n Mike suggested. "Never +drank such a brew in my life."</p> + +<p>Duke grinned. "That isn't coffee, skipper. It's printer's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> ink with +cream and sugar. Go on, Rick, or someone. Read the rest of it."</p> + +<p>"Byline," Rick said, "by Jerry Webster, and under that it says +copyrighted by the <i>Morning Record</i>. How did you copyright it so +quickly, Duke?"</p> + +<p>"Sent a copy air mail to the copyright office and enclosed a dollar. +The letter will go out tonight. It's standard procedure. Go on, read. +I edited Jerry's story so fast I didn't have a chance to enjoy it."</p> + +<p>Rick read on. "'A Seaford trawler captain, four members of his crew, +and two New Yorkers were arrested tonight on gunrunning charges after +a surprise raid by State Police officers culminated a series of events +that included the wrecking of the trawler <i>Sea Belle</i>, the use of a +new invention by the two youngest members of the Spindrift Island +Foundation to photograph the transfer of arms under cover of darkness +on the high seas, the kidnapping and maltreatment of a <i>Morning +Record</i> reporter, and a fight in the attic of the Creek House hotel +that was ended by the timely intervention of a retired sea captain.'" +Rick got the last words out with his last bit of breath.</p> + +<p>Scotty looked at Jerry with admiration. "He's not only a distance +runner, he's a distance writer. That was a hundred-yard sentence."</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell a lie," Jerry said modestly. "I did it with my little +dictionary. Written by an ancestor who was also famous. Noah Webster."</p> + +<p>"'One of the most surprising disclosures,'" Rick read on, "'was the +reason for the stubborn silence of Captain Thomas Tyler, master of the +trawler <i>Sea Belle</i>, which was wrecked on Smugglers' Reef a week ago. +As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> reported in previous editions, Captain Tyler maintained an +obstinate silence as to the real reason for the wreck of the trawler +in the face of pleas from friends and officials. He had maintained +that he was solely responsible and that his error in judgment had been +caused by liquor. After the arrest of the smugglers, Captain Tyler +willingly told this reporter that he had discovered the smuggling +activities of Captain Bradford Marbek and Roger and James Kelso two +weeks before.'"</p> + +<p>"That was a good guess we made," Cap'n Mike said soberly. "Poor Tom. +He was in some spot. He knew about the smuggling, but he was like we +were. Couldn't prove a thing. He could have told the police and asked +for protection, but they wouldn't have had grounds for holding Brad +and the Kelsos. They would have been free to carry out their threats +against his family inside of twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Scotty said. "But he didn't know any more than we did +what they were smuggling."</p> + +<p>The axes of police officers had disclosed rifles, submachine guns, and +ammunition in the cases innocently labeled as sewing machines, and no +one had been more surprised than the boys.</p> + +<p>"Thousands of guns and ammunition must have gone out before we caught +on," Rick said. "What happens to the people that received them?"</p> + +<p>"That's not our affair," Captain Douglas told him. "Since they went to +ships and nationals of a foreign country, it's up to the Department of +State to take action, if there's going to be any."</p> + +<p>"We filed the story with Universal Press Service," Jerry explained. +"It's all over the country by this time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> Copyright by the Whiteside +<i>Morning Record</i>." He grinned. "We're modest, Duke and I."</p> + +<p>"You are, anyway," Rick scoffed. "'Kidnapping and maltreatment of a +<i>Morning Record</i> reporter.' Why didn't you give the reporter's name?"</p> + +<p>Jerry turned a little red, but he said loftily, "We heroes prefer to +remain anonymous."</p> + +<p>"Heroes is right," Duke said dryly. "You came within an inch of having +a bronze plaque erected to your memory as one who fell in line of +duty."</p> + +<p>"What? Only bronze?" Jerry looked hurt.</p> + +<p>Rick gave him a comradely wink. Jerry's act had brought him close to +the ranks of heroes at that, if quick thinking and nerve combined with +bad luck were any qualification. He glanced through the story quickly, +and found what the young reporter had said about his own part.</p> + +<p>"'While attempting to gather evidence, the <i>Morning Record</i> reporter +who figured in the case was caught by the truckmen who delivered the +arms to Creek House. After being beaten, bound, and gagged, he was +taken to the hotel. His questioning was interrupted by the arrival of +Brant and Scott.'"</p> + +<p>And that really was modesty. Jerry had been returning from the boat +landing when he passed a big trailer truck that carried the name of a +large manufacturer of industrial castings. He thought quickly, +surprised at seeing such a vehicle in Whiteside. Such trucks always +used the shorter main route. To his positive knowledge, there was not +a single manufacturing plant on the entire shore road on which +Whiteside and Seaford were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> located. There was a definite chance, he +decided, that the truck might be carrying a load for Creek House. He +knew the smugglers had made fast changes in their plans, as witness +the moving up of the ship sailing. There was a strong possibility they +had been forced to ask for immediate shipment of contraband, too.</p> + +<p>Jerry passed the truck and stopped at the newspaper long enough to +scrawl a note to Duke, explaining what had happened, then he passed +the truck again and drove furiously toward Seaford. He went by Salt +Creek Bridge and parked his car in a pasture, then ran back to the +bridge, made his way into the marsh and waited.</p> + +<p>The trailer truck arrived, stopped, and put out flares, and three men +got out. They jacked up the rear wheels of the trailer, then started +to unload. By so doing, they had a perfect reason for being there. If +a police car came along, they had only to explain that they had broken +an axle and were replacing it, and that they had taken out part of +their cargo to lighten the load until repairs were completed.</p> + +<p>The stage was no sooner set than up the river came the flatboat from +Creek House. It pushed its way into the marsh, toward Jerry. Not until +the actual loading started did he discover his bad luck. He had taken +a fairly well-defined path into the marsh. The path was artificial, +made by the Kelsos. They had carried rocks to make both the path and +the stone jetty to which the flatboat had come. The deception had +worked, because the path and jetty surfaces, strong enough to carry +the weight of men with heavy cases, were under an inch of mud and +water!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry had described the end simply. "They fell over me. I tried to get +away, but there were too many of them."</p> + +<p>But he had gotten in one good blow. His hand closed over one of the +rocks of the path and he swung it effectively. The State Police, +hearing his story, made a routine check of doctors and hospitals along +the route the truck probably had taken; they assumed it would not turn +around on the narrow shore road. The trucker Jerry had felled was in a +small clinic two towns below Seaford, and an interstate alarm had gone +out for the others, giving license numbers and descriptions supplied +by the reporter. They wouldn't get far.</p> + +<p>Jerry's luck had been bad, but Captain Douglas' luck had been good. +The accumulated evidence probably would have been enough, but one of +Brad's seamen had talked, hoping for a lighter sentence.</p> + +<p>Rick was most pleased to find that his theory about Smugglers' Light +had been close to the truth. The marks on the old tower had been made +by a powerful light supplied by Brad Marbek. The light, once used for +night purse seine fishing, was powered by a carbon arc. A cable, +connected into the same junction box that supplied Smugglers' Reef +Light, had furnished the power. The police officers had found signs of +tampering in the junction box, but they had called the authorities +responsible for the light to make a definite check. The light itself +had been stowed in Brad Marbek's home. One quarter of the cylinder had +been blacked out with paint. Red cellophane was pasted on to another +quarter.</p> + +<p>There were still no answers to who had phoned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> warning to Rick, or +why Carrots had trailed them into Whiteside, but those things weren't +important, anyway. Probably their original guesses had been right.</p> + +<p>The others had fallen silent, engrossed in reading Jerry's story. Rick +went through it again, more carefully. The young reporter had done +well. It was an exciting yarn. Then he looked at the "side pieces," +other stories dealing with the case, written by both Duke and Jerry in +the feverish rush to make the morning paper. There was a simple +statement by Captain Killian, who long since was asleep in his own bed +at Seaford. There was a photo of Rick and Scotty with the infrared +camera and a story by Duke of its use in the collecting of evidence. +The staff photographer had taken that one after they all returned to +Whiteside, accompanying the police and the prisoners to jail. The +entire back page was devoted to pictures, some reproductions from +Rick's movie and some taken at the jail by the staff photographer. +There was one of Cap'n Mike holding Carrots' rifle, and the caption +explained how he had rescued the boys.</p> + +<p>"How much per column inch did you say?" Rick asked Duke slyly.</p> + +<p>"Too much. This will bankrupt me."</p> + +<p>Scotty folded his paper. "We'd better get back to Spindrift, Rick."</p> + +<p>"That's right." Rick knew his folks would be waiting to see the paper, +too. He had phoned them as soon as they reached the jail.</p> + +<p>"I'll take you to the landing," Jerry offered, "then I'll run Cap'n +Mike down to Seaford."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," Captain Douglas said. "I have a pa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>trol car going down +that way in fifteen minutes. It can drop him off."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Mike shook hands with both of the boys. "I'll see you tomorrow, +I reckon."</p> + +<p>"In the afternoon," Rick said. "We'll sleep in the morning." After the +fight at Creek House, Cap'n Mike had rowed them to the Spindrift +speedboat in his dory. They had gotten their clothes, but left the +boat at the hotel. It would be safe; police officers would keep an eye +on it while guarding the load of arms.</p> + +<p>Captain Douglas shook hands, too. "I should make a speech," he told +them with a smile. "You know, about your both being good citizens, +aiding the police at risk of life and limb and so on...."</p> + +<p>Rick grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid we weren't thinking about the +citizen part of it, Captain. We just...."</p> + +<p>"I was about to add that." Captain Douglas laughed. "But thanks, +anyway."</p> + +<p>Duke Barrows said, "I don't suppose you would accept the coffee we +served you as part payment?"</p> + +<p>Scotty snorted. "Aren't you the one said it wasn't coffee?"</p> + +<p>"All right." Duke's shoulders slumped. "Drive me into debt paying you +off. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>"We will," Rick retorted, "and don't take the price of these papers +you gave us off the amount, either."</p> + +<p>The editor laughed. "Okay. Take them home, Jerry. They'll have to wait +until the first of the month for their money, just like the rest of +our creditors. So long, kids, and thanks a million for a swell story."</p> + +<p>As they drove to the landing, Rick glanced quizzi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>cally at Jerry. +"Well, you asked for it. Remember?"</p> + +<p>Jerry was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"The night we went to get a story on the wreck," Scotty explained. +"Didn't you say you wished you would get in on an adventure with us?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly did. I didn't know what I was asking for, believe me." +Jerry's grin widened. He touched his head tenderly, patting the +bruises he had collected. Then he laughed. "I was scared silly, but +you know, I kind of enjoyed it!"</p> + +<p>Rick and Scotty broke into laughter, too.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Rick was figuring out some changes in the infrared camera attachment +on the following Monday when Scotty came into the room.</p> + +<p>"Just got back from Whiteside with the paper and the mail," he +announced. "And look at this!" He indicated an item on the front page.</p> + +<p>It was a Universal News Service dispatch. Authorities of a republic in +the Caribbean had arrested the country's former dictator on a charge +of planning a revolution, pointing to a large cache of arms and +ammunition found on his estate as evidence. Arrested for complicity +was the president of the Compania Maritima Caribe y Atlantica. +Warrants were being issued for a number of others.</p> + +<p>"That settles that," Rick said. "Looks like we stopped a revolution!"</p> + +<p>"We're the kids what did it," Scotty boasted. He dropped a letter in +front of Rick. "Got this, too. Look who it's from."</p> + +<p>The postmark was Bombay. It was from Chahda, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> first letter since +the Hindu boy had left them in New Caledonia to return to India.</p> + +<p>"He's fine," Scotty said. "I read it at the post office. His brothers +and sisters didn't believe some of his stories, but he's convincing +them. Also, he's going to work. He can't tell us yet what his job will +be, because it's a sort of secret."</p> + +<p>"Then he won't come back to America for a while," Rick said, +disappointed. "We won't see him." He grinned, remembering the first +time they had met Chahda. "He's probably at Crawford Market right now, +bargaining at the top of his lungs for something." He picked up the +letter and started to read, picturing Chahda, in his native dress once +more, at home in Bombay.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Rick's mental image was far from the truth. As he read the letter, +Chahda was writing to Rick and Scotty again, but this time he was +composing an urgent cable, laboriously working over the cipher that +would conceal its content from his strange enemy.</p> + +<p>The Hindu boy was in the hiding place he had chosen deep in the Indian +quarter of Singapore, but he knew it was only a temporary refuge. Once +he emerged, the shadow would find him again. But if he could succeed +in getting to the cable office first, Rick and Scotty would get his +message, and they would come. Once the three of them were united +again, let the shadow do as it would!</p> + +<p>Chahda finished his composition, folded it and tucked it securely into +his turban, then he slipped through a door into the darkness of the +Singapore night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> In his ciphered message was the key to an adventure +that would plunge his American friends into both darkness and danger +in the fabled, terrifying Caves of Korse Lenken, a story to be related +in the next volume,<br /> +THE CAVERNS OF FEAR.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE RICK BRANT</h3> +<h2>Science-Adventure Stories</h2> +<h3>BY JOHN BLAINE</h3> +<p>Rick Brant and his pal, Scotty, have the kind of adventures all boys +would like to have. They live on an island called Spindrift where +Rick's father heads a group of scientists working in the field of +electronics. Here and abroad, the boys encounter many thrilling +adventures and solve many baffling mysteries.</p> + + +<ul> +<li>THE ROCKET'S SHADOW</li> +<li>THE LOST CITY</li> +<li>SEA GOLD</li> +<li>100 FATHOMS UNDER</li> +<li>THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY</li> +<li>THE PHANTOM SHARK</li> +<li>SMUGGLERS' REEF</li> +<li>THE CAVES OF FEAR</li></ul> + + +<h3>Grosset & Dunlap <img src="images/seal_1.jpg" alt="Seal" width="75" height="70" /> <i>Publishers</i></h3> +<h3><span class="smcap">New York 10, N.Y.</span></h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE KEN HOLT<br /> +MYSTERY STORIES</h2> + +<h3>By Bruce Campbell</h3> +<p>Ken Holt, son of a world-famous foreign correspondent, and Sandy +Allen, of the redheaded Allen clan, join forces at a time when Ken is +very much in need of help. They fall into the thick of a mystery as +readily as a duck takes to water, and no sooner are they on the scent +than the suspense begins to mount and every reader knows he is in for +a thrilling time.</p> + + +<h3>THE SECRET OF SKELETON ISLAND</h3> +<p>Ken and Sandy solve the mystery of the strange goings-on at the +exclusive resort on Skeleton Island.</p> + + +<h3>THE RIDDLE OF THE STONE ELEPHANT</h3> +<p>In Colorado gathering data for Ken's dad about an old lawsuit between +two ranchmen over water rights, Ken and Sandy find every move +thwarted, every action watched.</p> + + +<h3>THE BLACK THUMB MYSTERY</h3> +<p>Ken and Sandy prove the innocence of a banker who has been found +guilty of conspiracy in a robbery. The boys track down many clues +before they discover the motive behind the sinister plot.</p> + +<h3>THE CLUE OF THE MARKED CLAW</h3> +<p>Vacationing in a fishing village on Long Island, Ken and Sandy play an +unexpected part in the capture of a dangerous ring of smugglers.</p> + + +<h2>GROSSET & DUNLAP</h2> +<h4>Publishers of WORDS: <i>The New Dictionary</i></h4> +<h3><span class="smcap">New York 10, N. Y.</span></h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>THE HARDY BOYS</h3> + +<h2><i>Mystery<br /> + Stories</i></h2> + <div class="figright"><img src="images/advt.jpg" alt="Advertisement" width="200" height="198" /></div> + + +<h3>By FRANKLIN N. DIXON</h3> + <p>All boys from 11 to 15 who like lively adventure stories, packed with +mystery and action, will want to read every one of the exciting Hardy +Boys stories listed below. Sons of a famous American detective, the +Hardy boys help solve many thrilling mysteries after school hours and +during vacations, as they follow up the clues they unearth in their +quest to bring criminals to justice.</p> + + +<h2><i>Now Available:</i></h2> + <table summary="List of Books"> +<tr><td class="tocch">1.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE TOWER TREASURE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">2.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">3.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">4.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE MISSING CHUMS</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">5.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">6.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">7.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET OF THE CAVES</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">8.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">9.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">10.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">11.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">12.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">13.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE MARK ON THE DOOR</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">14.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE HIDDEN HARBOR MYSTERY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">15.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SINISTER SIGN POST</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">16.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>A FIGURE IN HIDING</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">17.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET WARNING</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">18.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE TWISTED CLAW</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">19.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE DISAPPEARING FLOOR</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">20.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE MYSTERY OF THE FLYING EXPRESS</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">21.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE CLUE OF THE BROKEN BLADE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">22.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">23.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE MELTED COINS</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">24.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SHORT-WAVE MYSTERY</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">25.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET PANEL</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">26.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE PHANTOM FREIGHTER</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">27.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET OF SKULL MOUNTAIN</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">28.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>SIGN OF THE CROOKED ARROW</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">29.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE SECRET OF THE LOST TUNNEL</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocch">30.</td> + <td> </td> + <td>THE WAILING SIREN MYSTERY</td></tr> +</table> + + + <h3><span class="g1">GROSSET & DUNLAP </span><i>Publishers</i> <span class="g1">NEW YORK</span></h3> + <hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Rick Brant Science-Adventure</span> <i>Stories</i></h3> +<h2>BY JOHN BLAINE</h2> + +<ul> +<li><span class="smcap">The Rocket's Shadow</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">The Lost City</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Sea Gold</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">100 Fathoms Under</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">The Whispering Box Mystery</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">The Phantom Shark</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Smugglers' Reef</span></li> +<li><span class="smcap">The Caves of Fear</span></li> +</ul> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Smugglers' Reef, by John Blaine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + +***** This file should be named 28849-h.htm or 28849-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/8/4/28849/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Smugglers' Reef + +Author: John Blaine + +Release Date: May 16, 2009 [EBook #28849] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + [Illustration: MAP OF SMUGGLERS' REEF AND VICINITY] + + + A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY + + + + SMUGGLERS' + + REEF + + + + + BY JOHN BLAINE + + + + GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS + + NEW YORK, N. Y. + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1950, BY + + GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC. + + * * * * * + + + + +Contents + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I NIGHT ASSIGNMENT 1 + +II CAP'N MIKE 11 + +III THE REDHEADED KELSOS 22 + +IV A WARNING 33 + +V THE MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL 43 + +VI THE _Albatross_ 53 + +VII SEARCH FOR A CLUE 63 + +VIII THE OLD TOWER 70 + +IX NIGHT WATCH 82 + +X CAPTURED 93 + +XI THE HEARING 100 + +XII THE MISSING FISHERMAN 107 + +XIII THE TRACKER 118 + +XIV CAPTAIN KILLIAN 125 + +XV PLIMSOLL MARKS 137 + +XVI NIGHT FLIGHT 151 + +XVII ENTER THE POLICE 162 + +XVIII BRENDAN'S MARSH 172 + +XIX THE FIGHT AT CREEK HOUSE 188 + +XX READ ALL ABOUT IT! 201 + + * * * * * + + + + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +CHAPTER I + +Night Assignment + + +"Adventure," Rick Brant said, "is kind of hard to define, because what +may be adventure to one person may be commonplace to another." He took +a bite of cake and stretched his long legs comfortably. "Now, you take +flying with Scotty. That's the most adventurous thing I do." + +Mr. and Mrs. Brant and Jerry Webster looked at Don Scott, the object +of Rick's jibe, and waited for his reply. Verbal warfare between the +two boys was a usual feature of the evening discussions on the big +front porch of the Brant home on Spindrift Island. + +Scotty, a husky, dark-haired boy, grinned lazily. "You've proved your +own point," he returned. "Flying with me is adventure to you but safe +travel to anyone else. I'd say the most adventurous thing you do is +drive a car." + +Mrs. Brant, an attractive, motherly woman, poured another cup of +coffee for Jerry Webster. The young reporter had started the +discussion by stating wistfully that he wished he could share in some +of the Brant adventures. "Why do you call Rick's driving +adventurous?" she asked. + +"The dictionary says so," Scotty replied. "One definition of adventure +is 'a remarkable experience.'" + +Hartson Brant, Rick's scientist father, grinned companionably at his +son. "I agree with Scotty. Not only is Rick's driving a remarkable +experience, but it fits the rest of the definition: 'The encountering +of risks; hazardous enterprise.'" + +Jerry Webster rose to Rick's defense. "Oh, I don't know. Rick always +gets there." + +"Sure he does," Scotty agreed. "Of course his passengers always have +nervous breakdowns, but he gets there." + +Rick just grinned. He felt wonderful tonight. When you came right down +to it, there was nothing that matched being at home with the family in +the big house on Spindrift Island. The famous island off the New +Jersey coast was home for the scientific foundation that his father +headed, and for the scientist members. It was home for Scotty, too, +and had been since the day he had rescued Rick from danger, as told in +_The Rocket's Shadow_. As junior members of the foundation, Rick and +Scotty had been included in a number of experiments and expeditions. +Rick wouldn't have missed a one of them, and if opportunity offered he +would go again with just as much eagerness. But it was nice to return +to familiar surroundings between trips. More than once, during lonely +nights in far places, his thoughts had turned to evenings just like +this one with the family and perhaps a close friend like Jerry +gathered on the porch after dinner. + +Rick, Scotty, and Barbara Brant had only recently returned from the +South Pacific where they had vacationed aboard the trawler _Tarpon_ +and had solved the mystery of _The Phantom Shark_. Barby had gone off +to summer boarding school in Connecticut a few days later. Chahda, the +Hindu boy who had been with the Brants since the Tibetan radar relay +expedition described in _The Lost City_, had said good-bye to the +group at New Caledonia and had returned to India. The scientists, +Zircon, Weiss, and Gordon, were away doing research. + +Suddenly Rick chuckled. "Speaking of adventure, I'll bet the biggest +adventure Barby had on our whole trip to the Pacific was eating +_rosette saute_ at the governor's in Noumea." + +"What's that?" Jerry asked. + +"Bat," Scotty replied. "A very large kind of fruit bat. Barby thought +it was wonderful until she found out what it was." + +"I should think so!" Mrs. Brant exclaimed. + +"It tasted good," Rick said. "Something like chicken livers." He +grinned. "Anyway, I sympathized with Barby. I felt kind of funny +myself when I found out what it was." + +Hartson Brant, an older edition of his athletic son, looked at the boy +reflectively. He knocked ashes from his pipe. "Seems to me you've been +pretty quiet since you got back, Rick. Lost your taste for excitement? +Or are you working on something?" + +"Working," Rick said. "We scientists must never rest. We must labor +always to push back the frontiers of ignorance." He put a hand on his +heart and bowed with proper dramatic modesty. "I am working on an +invention that will startle the civilized world." + +"We will now bow our heads in reverent silence while the master tells +all," Scotty intoned. + +"I know," Jerry guessed. "You're working on a radar-controlled lawn +mower so you can cut the grass while you sit on the porch." + +"That's too trivial for a junior genius like Rick," Scotty objected. +"He's probably working on a self-energizing hot dog that lathers +itself with mustard, climbs into a bun, and then holds a napkin under +your chin while you eat it." + +"Not a bad idea," Rick said soberly. "But that isn't it." + +"Of course not," Hartson Brant put in. "You see, I happen to know what +it is, due to a little invention of my own--an electronic mind +reader." + +Scotty gulped. "You didn't tell Mom what happened to those two pieces +of butterscotch pie, did you? I wanted her to blame it on Rick." + +Rick asked unbelievingly, "An electronic mind reader? All right, Dad, +what am I working on?" + +"A device to penetrate the darkness." + +Rick stared. His father had scored a hit. He demanded, "How did you +know?" + +"My new invention," Hartson Brant said seriously. "Oh, and one other +clue. Yesterday morning the mail brought me a bill for a thousand feet +of 16-millimeter infrared motion-picture film." + +So that was it. Rick grinned. "I hope your new invention told you I +asked the film company to send the bill to me and not to you." + +"It did. The bill actually was addressed to the Spindrift Foundation, +attention Mr. Brant. Since I didn't know which Mr. Brant was meant, I +opened it. Don't worry, Rick. I'll let you pay it." + +"Thanks, Dad," Rick said. "But don't make any sacrifices. You can pay +it if you want to." + +"Don't want to," Hartson Brant replied. "I haven't the slightest use +for motion-picture film." + +"Because Rick has the only motion-picture camera on the island," +Scotty finished. He frowned at his friend. "Keeping secrets, huh?" + +"I'm not sure it will work," Rick explained. He hated to brag about an +idea and then have it turn out to be a dud. Consequently, he seldom +mentioned that he was working on anything until he knew it would be +successful. + +"What does the film have to do with penetrating the darkness?" Jerry +Webster inquired. + +Rick caught the look of interest on his father's face. "Ask Dad," he +said. "The electronic mind reader probably has told him all about it." + +"Of course." The scientist chuckled. "Rick is planning to take movies +at night without lights." + +Jerry looked skeptical. "How?" + +Rick stood up. "Long as we've started talking about it, I may as well +show you." + +The others rose, too. As they did so, a shaggy little dog crawled from +under Rick's chair where he had been napping. + +"Dismal and I will put the cake away," Mrs. Brant said. + +At the sound of his name the pup rolled over on his back and played +dead, his only trick. Rick bent and scratched his ribs in the way the +pup liked best. "Go with Mom," he commanded. "Come on, the rest of +you. Maybe I can get some free advice from the director of the +Spindrift Foundation." + +Hartson Brant smiled. "If you're looking for a technical consultant, +Rick, my price is very reasonable." + +"It would have to be," Rick admitted ruefully. "I've spent my entire +fortune on this thing." + +"The whole dollar," Scotty added. + +The boys' rooms were on the second floor in the north wing of the big +house. But where Scotty's was usually neat as a barracks squad room, +the result of his service in the Marines, Rick's was usually a clutter +of apparatus. Living on Spindrift Island with the example of his +father and the other scientists to follow, it was natural that he +should be interested in science. He was more fortunate than most boys +with such an interest, because he was permitted to use the laboratory +apparatus freely and his part-time work as a junior technician gave +him spending money with which to buy equipment. Another source of +revenue was his little two-seater plane. He was the island's fast +ferry service to the mainland. + +His room was neater than usual at the moment because he had not +bothered to connect most of his apparatus after returning from the +South Pacific. The induction heater that he used for midnight snacks +was in a closet. His automatic window opener was not in use, nor was +his amateur radio transmitter. + +He opened a workbench built into one wall and brought out a +motion-picture camera. It was a popular make with a type of lens mount +that permitted fast switching of lenses. It used one-hundred-foot +rolls of 16-millimeter film. He put the camera on the table, then from +a cupboard he brought out what appeared to be a searchlight mounted on +top of a small telescope. + +"That's a sniperscope!" Scotty exclaimed. + +Rick nodded. + +"No reason why it shouldn't work very well, Rick," Hartson Brant said. + +Jerry Webster sighed. "Excuse my ignorance. What's a sniperscope?" + +"They were used during the last war," Scotty explained. He picked up +the unit and pointed to the light, which was about the size and shape +of a bicycle head lamp. "This searchlight throws a beam of black +light. Rick would call it infrared. Anyway, it's invisible. The +telescope is actually a special telescopic rifle sight which will pick +up infrared. You can use the thing in total darkness. Mount it on a +rifle and then go looking for the enemy. Since he can't see the +infrared, he thinks he's safe. But you can see him through the 'scope +just as though he had a beam of white light on him." + +"I see," Jerry said. "Where are the batteries?" + +Rick brought out a canvas-covered case that looked like a knapsack. It +had a crank on one side and a pair of electrical connections. "It's +not a battery," he explained. "It's a small, spring-driven dynamo." + +Jerry nodded. "I get it now. You rig this thing on the camera, which +is loaded with infrared film. The film registers whatever the infrared +searchlight illuminates. Right?" + +"That's the idea," Hartson Brant agreed. "But it isn't as simple as +that, is it, Rick?" + +"Far from it. I have to determine the effective range, then I have to +run a couple of tests to find out what exposure I have to use, and +then I have to find the field of vision of the telescope as compared +with the field of the lens. A lot depends on the speed of the film +emulsion. That will limit the range. The searchlight is effective at +eight hundred yards, but I'll be lucky if I can get a picture at a +quarter of that." + +"Where did you get the sniperscope?" Scotty wanted to know. + +"By mail. I read an ad in a magazine that advertised a lot of surplus +war equipment, including this." + +"You might have said something about it," Scotty reproached. + +Rick grinned. "You were too busy working on the motorboats. I knew you +couldn't have two things on your mind at once." + +Since the boys returned from vacation, Scotty had been overhauling the +engines on the two motorboats which were used, along with Rick's +plane, for communication with Whiteside, the nearest town on the +mainland. + +"I have a book downstairs that you'll find useful, Rick," Hartson +Brant said. "It gives the comparative data on lenses. It may save you +some figuring." + +"Thanks, Dad," Rick replied. "I may have to ask your help in working +out the mathematics, too. Anyway...." He stopped as the phone rang. + +In a moment Mrs. Brant called. "Jerry, it's your paper." + +"Something must have popped!" Jerry ran for the door. + +Rick hurried after him, Scotty and the scientist following. The +Whiteside _Morning Record_, for which Jerry worked, must have had +something important come up to phone Jerry on his night off. + +In the library, Jerry picked up the phone. "Webster. Oh, hello, Duke. +Where? Well, why can't one of the other guys cover it? Okay, I'll be +on my way in a minute. How about a photographer? Hold the phone. I'll +ask him." He turned to Rick. "Duke wants to know if you can take your +camera and cover a story with me. A trawler went ashore down at +Seaford." + +Rick nodded quick assent. The little daily paper had only one +photographer, who evidently wasn't available. It wouldn't be the first +time he had taken pictures for Duke Barrows, the paper's editor. + +"He'll do it. We're on our way." Jerry hung up. "Have to work fast," +he said. "We start printing the paper at midnight." + +"It's nine now," Scotty said. + +Rick ran upstairs and opened the case containing his speed graphic, +checking to be sure he had film packs and bulbs, then he snapped the +case shut and hurried downstairs with it. Jerry and Scotty were +waiting at the door. + +"Don't stay out too late," Mrs. Brant admonished. + +Dismal whined to be taken along. + +"Sorry, boy." Rick patted the pup. "We'll be home early, Mom. Want to +come along, Dad?" + +"Not tonight, thanks," the scientist replied. "I'll take advantage of +the quiet to catch up on my reading." + +In a moment the three boys were hurrying toward the hook-shaped cove +in which the motorboats were tied up. Although Spindrift Island was +connected to the mainland at low tide by a rocky tidal flat, there was +no way for a car to cross. The cove was reached by a flight of stairs +leading down from the north side of the island. Elsewhere, the island +dropped away in cliffs of varying heights and steepness to the +Atlantic. + +They ran down the stairs and got into the fastest of the two boats, a +slim speedboat built for eight passengers. Rick handed Scotty his +camera case and slid in behind the wheel. While Jerry cast off, he +started the engine and warmed it for a moment. Then as Jerry pushed +the craft away from the pier, he backed out expertly, spun the boat +around, and roared off in the direction of the Whiteside landing. + +"Let's have the story," Scotty shouted above the engine's roar. + +"A fishing trawler from Seaford ran aground," Jerry shouted in reply. +"Duke figures it's an unusual story because those skippers have been +going out of Seaford for a hundred years without an accident. There's +no reason why one of them should run onto well-charted ground in clear +weather." + +Scotty squinted at the sky. "It's not exactly clear weather. There's a +moon just coming up, but it's kind of hazy out." + +"Yes, but you couldn't call it bad weather, either," Jerry pointed +out. "Not from a seaman's viewpoint, anyway." + +"Where did this trawler run aground?" Rick asked. + +"Arm of land that extends out into the sea above Seaford," Jerry +replied. "It's called Smugglers' Reef." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +Cap'n Mike + + +Jerry's car was an old sedan that had seen better days, but it could +still cover ground at a good speed. The macadam highway unrolled +before the bright head lamps at a steady rate while the beams +illumined alternate patches of woods and small settlements. + +There were no major towns between Whiteside and Seaford, but there +were a number of summer beach colonies, most of them in an area about +halfway between the two towns. The highway was little used. Most +tourists and all through traffic preferred the main trunk highway +leading southward from Newark. They saw only two other cars during the +short drive. + +Many months had passed since Rick's last visit to Seaford. He had gone +there on a Sunday afternoon to try his hand at surf casting off +Million Dollar Row, a stretch of beach noted for its huge, abandoned +hotels. It was a good place to cast for striped bass during the right +season. + +"Smugglers' Reef," he said aloud. "Funny that a Seaford trawler +should go ashore there. It's the best-known reef on the coast." + +"Maybe the skipper was a greenhorn," Scotty remarked. + +"Not likely," Jerry said. "In Seaford the custom is to pass fishing +ships down from father to son. There hasn't been a new fishing family +there for the past half century." + +"You seem to know a lot about the place," Rick remarked. + +"I go down pretty often. Fish makes news in this part of the country." + +Scotty pointed to a sign as they sped over a wooden bridge. "Salt +Creek." + +Rick remembered. Salt Creek emptied into the sea on the north side of +Smugglers' Reef. It was called Salt Creek because the tide backed up +into it beyond the bridge they had just crossed. He had caught crabs +just above the bridge. But between the road and the sea there was over +a quarter mile of tidal swamp, filled with rushes and salt-marsh +grasses through which the creek ran. At the edge of the swamp where +Salt Creek met Smugglers' Reef stood the old Creek House, once a +leading hotel, now an abandoned relic. + +A short distance farther on, a road turned off to the left. A +weathered sign pointed toward Seaford. In a few moments the first +houses came into view. They were small, and well kept for the most +part. Then the sedan rolled into the town itself, down the single +business street which led to the fish piers. + +A crowd waited in front of the red-brick town hall. Jerry swung into +the curb. "Let's see what's going on." + +Rick got his camera from the case, inserted a film pack, and stuffed a +few flash bulbs into his pocket. Then he hurried up the steps of City +Hall after Jerry and Scotty. Men, a number of them with the weathered +faces of professional fishermen, were talking in low tones. A few +looked at the boys with curiosity. + +An old man with white hair and a strong, lined face was seated by the +door, whittling on an elm twig. Jerry spoke to him. + +"Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what's going on?" + +Keen eyes took in the three boys. "I can. Any reason why I should?" +The old man's voice held the twang peculiar to that part of the New +Jersey coast. + +"I'm a reporter," Jerry said. "Whiteside _Morning Record_." + +The old man spat into the shrubbery. "Going to put in your paper that +Tom Tyler ran aground on Smugglers' Reef, hey? Well, you can put it +in, boy, because it's true. But don't make the mistake of calling Tom +Tyler a fool, a drunkard, or a poor seaman, because he ain't any of +those things." + +"How did it happen?" Jerry asked. + +"Reckon you better ask Tom Tyler." + +"I will," Jerry said. "Where will I find him?" + +"Inside. Surrounded by fools." + +Jerry pushed through the door, Rick and Scotty following. Rick's quick +glance took in the people waiting in the corridor, then shifted to a +young woman and a little girl. The woman's face was strained and +white, and she stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes. The little +girl, a tiny blonde perhaps four years old, held tightly to her +mother's hand. + +Rick had a hunch. He stopped as Jerry and Scotty hurried down the +corridor to where voices were loud through an open door. "Mrs. Tyler?" +he asked. + +The woman's head lifted sharply. Her eyes went dark with fear. "I +can't tell you anything," she said in a rush. "I don't know anything." +She dropped her head again and her hand tightened convulsively on the +little girl's. + +"Sorry," Rick said gently. He moved along the corridor, very +thoughtful, and saw that Jerry and Scotty were turning into the room +from which voices came. Mrs. Tyler might have been angry, upset, +tearful, despondent, or defiant over the loss of her husband's +trawler. Instead, she had been afraid in a situation that did not +appear to call for fear. + +He turned into the room. There were about a dozen men in it. Two were +Coast Guardsmen, one a lieutenant and the other a chief petty officer. +Two others were state highway patrolmen. Another, in a blue uniform, +was evidently the local policeman. The rest were in civilian clothes. +All of them were watching a lean, youthful man who sat ramrod straight +in a chair. + +A stocky man in a brown suit said impatiently, "There's more to it +than that, Tom. Man, you've spent thirty years off Smugglers'. You'd +no more crack up on it than I'd fall over my own front porch." + +"I told you how it was," the fisherman said tonelessly. + +Rick searched his face and liked it. Tom Tyler was perhaps forty, but +he looked ten years younger. His face was burned from wind and sun, +but it was not yet heavily lined. His eyes, gray in color, were clear +and direct as he faced his questioners. He was a tall man; that was +apparent even when he was seated. He had a lean, trim look that +reminded Rick of a clean, seaworthy schooner. + +The boy lifted his camera and took a picture. The group turned briefly +as the flash bulb went off. They glared, then turned back to the +fisherman again. + +The town policeman spoke. "You know what this means, Tom? You not only +lost your ship, but you're apt to lose your license, too. And you'll +be lucky if the insurance company doesn't charge you with barratry." + +"I've told you how it was," Captain Tyler repeated. + +The man in the brown suit exploded. "Stop being a dadblasted fool, +Tom! You expect us to swallow a yarn like that? We know you don't +drink. How can you expect us to believe you ran the _Sea Belle_ ashore +while drunk?" + +"I got no more to say," Tyler replied woodenly. + +Jerry turned to Rick and Scotty and motioned toward the door. Rick led +the way back into the corridor. "Getting anything out of this?" he +asked. + +"A little," Jerry said. "Let's go out and talk to that old man." + +"Lead on," Scotty said. "I've always wanted to see a real news hound +in action." + +Rick dropped the used flash bulb into a convenient ash tray, replaced +it with a new one, and reset the camera. At least he had one good +picture. Tom Tyler, framed by his questioners, had looked somehow like +a thoroughbred animal at bay. + +Outside the door, the old man was still whittling. "Get a real scoop, +sonny?" he asked Jerry. + +"Sure did," Jerry returned. He leaned against the doorjamb. "I didn't +get your name." + +"Didn't give it." + +"Will you?" + +"Sure. I ain't ashamed. I'm Captain Michael Aloysius Kevin O'Shannon. +Call me Cap'n Mike." + +"All right, Cap'n Mike. Is it true Captain Tyler stands to lose his +master's license and may be even charged with deliberately wrecking +the ship?" + +"It's true. + +"He says he was drunk." + +"He wasn't." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know Tom Tyler." + +"Then how did it happen?" + +Cap'n Mike rose and clicked his jackknife shut. He tossed away the elm +twig. "You got a car?" + +"Yes." + +"Let's take a ride. You'll want to see the wreck, and I do, too. We +can talk on the way." + +The boys accepted with alacrity. Rick and Scotty sat in the back seat; +the captain rode up front with Jerry. At the old man's direction, +Jerry drove to the water front and then turned left. + +"I'll start at the beginning," Cap'n Mike said. "I've had experience +with reporters in my day. Best to tell 'em everything, otherwise they +start leaping at conclusions and get everything backwards. Can't +credit a reporter with too many brains." + +"You're right there," Jerry said amiably. + +Rick grinned. He had seen Jerry in operation before. The young +reporter didn't mind any kind of insult if there were a story in the +offing. Rick guessed the newspaper trade wasn't a place for thin +skins. + +"Well, here're the facts," the captain continued. "Tom Tyler, master +and owner of the _Sea Belle_, was coming back from a day's run. He'd +had a good day. The trawler was practically awash with a load of +menhaden. In case you don't know, menhaden are fish. Not eating fish, +but commercial. They get oil and chicken and cattle feed from 'em, and +the trawlers out of this port collect 'em by the millions of tons +every year." + +"We know," Jerry said. + +"Uhuh. As I said, the trawler was full up with menhaden. Tom was at +the wheel himself. The rest of the crew, five of them, was making +snug. There was a little weather making up, but not much, and not +enough to interfere with Tom seeing the light at the tip of Smugglers' +Reef. He saw it clear. Admits it. Now! All you need do is give the +light a few fathoms clearance to starboard. But Tom Tyler didn't. And +what happened?" + +"He ran smack onto the reef," Scotty put in. + +"He surely did. The crew, all of 'em being aft, didn't see a thing. +First they knew they were flying through the air like a bunch of +hooked mackerel and banging into the net gear. One broken arm and a +lot of cuts and bruises among 'em. The trawler tore her bottom out and +rested high and dry, scattering fish like a fertilizer spreader. Tom +Tyler said he took one drink and it went to his head." + +The old man snorted. "Bilge! Sheer bilge! He said hitting the reef +sobered him up." + +"Maybe it did," Jerry ventured. + +"Hogwash. There wasn't a mite of drink on his breath. And what did he +drink? There ain't nothing could make an old hand like Tom forget +where a light was supposed to be. No, the whole thing is fishy as a +bin of herring." + +The boys were silent for a moment after the recital, then Rick blurted +out the question in his mind. "What's his wife afraid of?" + +The captain stiffened. "Who says she's afraid?" + +"I do," Rick returned positively. "I saw her." + +"You did? Well, I reckon you saw right." + +"Maybe she's afraid of Tyler's losing his way of making a living," +Scotty guessed. + +Rick shook his head. "It wasn't that kind of fear." + +The sedan had left the town proper and was rolling along the sea front +on a wide highway. This was Million Dollar Row. In a moment Rick saw +the first of the huge hotels that had given the road its name. It was +called Sandy Shores. Once it had been landscaped, and probably +beautiful. Now, he saw in the dim moonlight, the windows were +shuttered and the grounds had gone back to bunch grass. The paint had +peeled in the salt air and there was an air of decay and loneliness +around the dark old place. + +Extending up the drive were the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, Shore +Mansions, and finally, the Creek House. All were in similar condition. +These hotels had been built in the booming twenties when the +traditional sleepiness of Seaford had been disturbed by a rush of +tourists. Then had come the business depression of the thirties and +the tourists had stopped coming. They had never started again. The +hotels, too expensive to operate and useless as anything but hotels, +had been left to rot. Briefly, during World War II, they had served as +barracks for a Coast Guard shore patrol base, but that activity was +long past now, and they had been left to decay once more. + +There were a number of cars on the road, going both ways. Captain Mike +remarked on the fact. "They're curious about the wreck. Usually not a +car moves on this road." + +As they approached Smugglers' Reef, the cars got thicker. Then Rick +saw lights in the massive Creek House. It was one of the biggest of +the hotels, and it had been the most exclusive. It had its own dock on +Salt Creek, and it was protected from prying eyes by a high board +fence. Two rooms on the second floor were lit up. + +"It's occupied," Cap'n Mike affirmed. "Family name of Kelso is renting +it. Claim they need the salt air and water for their boy. He's +ailing." + +"Must be a big family," Scotty said. + +"Oh, they don't use all of it. Just a couple of bedrooms and the +kitchen. No one knows much about 'em and they don't seem to work at +anything. City folks. Keep to themselves." + +Rick guessed from the note of irritation in Cap'n Mike's voice that he +resented the Kelsos' evident desire for privacy. Probably he had tried +to satisfy his curiosity about them and had been rebuffed. + +Jerry pulled up in front of the hotel and stopped the car. The boys +piled out, anxious for a glimpse of the trawler. Rick crossed the road +and looked out to sea. + +Smugglers' Reef was a gradually narrowing arm of land that extended +over a quarter mile out into the sea. In front of the hotel it was +perhaps two hundred yards wide. Then it narrowed gradually until it +was little more than a wall of piled boulders. On its north side, Salt +Creek emptied into the sea. Beyond the creek was the marsh with its +high grasses. + +At the far tip of the reef, a light blinked intermittently. That was +the light Tyler had failed to keep on his starboard beam. A few +hundred feet this side of it was a moving cluster of flashlights. It +was too dark to make out details, but Rick guessed the lights were at +the wrecked trawler. + +"Got your camera?" Jerry asked. + +Rick held it up. + +"Then let's go. Time is getting short and I have to get the story +back." + +With Cap'n Mike leading the way, surprisingly light on his feet for +his age, the boys made their way out along the reef. A short distance +before they reached the wreck they passed a rusted steel framework. + +"Used to be a light tower," Cap'n Mike explained briefly. "They put up +the new light on the point a few years back and put in an automatic +system. This light had to be tended." + +At the wreck they found almost two dozen people. Flashlights picked +out the trawler. It had driven with force right up on the reef, +ripping out the bottom and dumping thousands of dead menhaden into the +water. They lay in clusters around the wreck, floating on the water in +silvery shoals. The air was heavy with the reek of fish and spilled +Diesel fuel. + +There was little conversation among those who had come to visit the +wreck. When they did talk, it was in low tones. Rick thought that was +strange, because anything like this was usually a field day for +self-appointed experts who discussed it in loud tones and offered +opinions to all who would listen. Then, as he lifted his camera for a +picture, he saw the men look up, startled at the flash. He saw them +turn their backs quickly so their faces would not be seen if he were +to take another picture. + +He sensed tension in the air, and his lively curiosity quickened. This +was no ordinary wreck. Something about it had brought fear. Or was it +that the fear had brought the wreck? + +"Let's go," Jerry said. "Got a deadline to make." + + * * * * * + +Rick lay awake and stared through the window at the darkness. Jerry +had the pictures and story and there seemed to be nothing else to do +except to cover the hearing that would follow. The results were a +foregone conclusion. Trawler skipper admits he ran ship aground while +drunk. Case closed. + +Again Rick saw the fear written on Mrs. Tyler's face. Again he sensed +the tension among the men who gathered at the wreck. And he believed +Cap'n Mike had left some things unsaid in spite of his apparent +frankness. + +"Scotty?" he whispered. + +Scotty's voice came low through the connecting door. "I'm asleep." + +"Same here. Let's go fishing tomorrow." + +"Okay. I know where the blackfish will be running." + +"Do you? Where?" + +Rick grinned sleepily as Scotty's whisper came back. + +"Off Smugglers' Reef." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +The Redheaded Kelsos + + +The Spindrift motor launch rolled gently in the offshore swell as the +New Jersey coast slid by off the starboard beam. Behind the wheel, +Rick steered easily, following the shore line. In the aft cockpit, +Scotty prepared hand lines for the fishing they planned to do to keep +up appearances. + +Their decision to revisit Smugglers' Reef had been made on the spur of +the moment. The case of the wrecked trawler was none of their +business, and Rick had learned in the past that it was a good idea to +keep his nose out of things that didn't concern him. But he could no +more resist a mystery than he could resist a piece of Mrs. Brant's +best chocolate cake. He watched the shore line as the launch sped +along and tried to assure himself that a little look around wasn't +really sticking his nose into the case. After all, it wouldn't hurt to +satisfy his curiosity, would it? + +Scotty came forward and joined him. "All set. We ought to find some +fish right off the tip of the reef. If you intend to do any fishing, +that is." + +"Of course we'll fish," Rick said. "What else did we come here for?" + +"Nothing," Scotty agreed. "This is a fishing expedition in the truest +sense of the word." + +Rick looked at his pal suspiciously. "What was behind that remark?" + +Scotty chuckled. "Are you fooling yourself? Or are you trying to fool +me?" + +Rick had to laugh, too. "Okay. Let's admit it. We're so used to +excitement that we have to go fishing for it if none comes our way. +But seriously, Scotty, this is none of our business. The local +officials can handle it without any help from us. So let's not get too +involved." + +Scotty leaned back against the seat and grinned lazily. "Think you can +take your own advice?" + +"I think so," Rick said, with his fingers crossed. + +Scotty pointed to a low line ahead. "There's the reef. See the light +on the tip?" + +"Couldn't very well miss it," Rick said. The light was painted with +red and white stripes and it stood out sharply against the sky. He +gave Scotty a side glance. "What did you make out of all that talk +last night? Think Captain Tyler ran on the reef purposely?" + +Scotty shook his head. "He didn't strike me as a thief, and that's +what he'd have to be to wreck his trawler on purpose." + +"I liked his looks, too. Then Cap'n Mike said he didn't drink, so his +statement that he was under the influence of liquor wouldn't hold +water, either. What's the answer?" + +"If we knew, would we be here?" Scotty waved at the shore. "How far +does this stuff extend?" + +The water ended in an almost solid wall of rushes and salt-marsh +growth that would be far above even a tall man's head if he stood at +sea level. Now and then a small inlet appeared where the water flowed +too rapidly for plant life to grow. + +"There's about a mile of the stuff," Rick said. "It stops at the reef. +I'm not sure how wide it is, but I'd guess it averages a quarter of a +mile. It's called Brendan's Marsh, after an old man who got lost in it +once. It was over a week before he was found." + +They were approaching the reef at a good clip. + +"What do we do first?" Scotty asked. + +Rick shrugged. He had no plan of action. "Guess we just sort of wander +around and wait for a bright idea to hit us." + +"Lot of other people with the same idea, I guess." Scotty nodded +toward the reef. + +Rick saw a number of figures moving around the wreck of the trawler. +"Wonder who they are?" + +"Probably a lot of folks who are just curious--like two in this boat. +And I wouldn't be surprised if the law was doing a little looking +around by daylight, too." + +"We'll soon see." Rick turned the launch inshore as they approached +the reef. "Let's tie up at the Creek House dock. Then we can walk down +the reef and join the rest." + +"Suits me." + +Rick rounded the corner of the salt marsh and steered the launch into +the creek, reducing speed as he did so. On their right, the marsh +stretched inland along the sluggish creek bank. On their left, the +high old bulk of the Creek House rose from a yard that was strewn +with rubble and years' accumulation of weeds and litter. A hundred +yards up the creek was the gray, rickety piling of the hotel dock. + +"That's it," Rick said. + +Scotty went up to the bow and took the bow line, ready to drop it over +a piling. + +Rick started a wide turn that would bring him into the dock, then cut +the engine. The launch slowed as it lost momentum and drifted into +place perfectly. + +"Hey! Get out of there!" + +Both boys looked up. + +Coming from the hotel's side door on a dead run was a stocky youth of +about their own age. He was between Rick and Scotty in height, and he +had hair the color of a ripe carrot. Swinging from one hand was a +rifle. + +"Is that hair real or has he got a wig on?" Scotty asked. + +"It's real," Rick returned. His forehead creased. The dock had never +been considered private property--at least not since the hotel was +abandoned. He waited to see what the redhead wanted. + +The boy ran down the loose wooden surface toward them, his face red +and angry. "Get that boat out of here!" + +Rick looked into a pair of furious eyes the color of seaweed, set +above a wide nose and thin mouth. + +"Why?" he asked. + +"This is private property. Cast off." + +"Where's your sign?" Scotty asked. + +The boy grinned unpleasantly. "Don't need a sign." He patted the stock +of his rifle. "Got this." + +"Plan to use it?" Scotty asked calmly. + +"If I have to. Now cast off those lines and get out." + +Rick's temper began to fray a little. "You're using the wrong tone of +voice," he said gently. "You should say 'I'm terribly sorry, fellows, +but this is private property. Do you mind tying up somewhere else?' +Ask us nicely like that and we'll do it." + +The redhead half lifted the rifle. "Wise guy, huh? I warned you. Now +cast off those lines and get out." He dropped his hand to the lever of +the rifle as though to pump a cartridge into place. + +Scotty tensed. He said softly, "Get gay with that rifle and I'll climb +up there and feed it to you breech first." + +Rick saw the color rise to the boy's face and the muscles in his +throat tighten. "Easy, Scotty," he said warningly. He knew, as Scotty +did, that no normal person would wave a rifle at anyone for mere +daytime accidental trespassing, but he had a hunch the young +carrot-top would not react normally. + +"Jimmy!" + +The three of them looked to the hotel as the hail came. A big man with +red hair several shades darker than the boy's was waving from the side +door of the Creek House. He walked toward them rapidly. + +"Okay, Pop," Carrottop called. "I told 'em to get out." + +As the man approached, Rick saw that there was a strong resemblance +between the man and the boy. Evidently they were father and son. The +man had the same thin lips, the same seaweed-green eyes. His face was +almost square. It was a tough face, Rick thought. + +The newcomer looked at his son and jerked his thumb toward the hotel. +"Okay, Jimmy, get into the house." + +The boy turned and walked off without a word. + +The man surveyed Rick and Scotty briefly. "Don't mind Jimmy. He was +probably rude, and I'm sorry for it. But this is private property and +I can't allow you to tie up here." He motioned to the high board fence +along the front of the hotel. The fence ran down to the edge of the +creek. "Anywhere this side of the fence is private." + +Rick nodded. "It didn't use to be. That's why we tied up here. I'm +sorry, Mr...." + +"Kelso. I rented the place a few weeks ago. Haven't had time to get +signs up yet." + +"We'll shove off right away, Mr. Kelso. Sorry we intruded." + +"Okay." + +Rick started the engine, threw the launch into reverse, and backed +out. + +Scotty sat down beside him. "How about that?" + +"Funny," Rick said. "Didn't Cap'n Mike say a family named Kelso had +taken the hotel because their little boy was sick and needed fresh +air?" + +"That's what he said," Scotty affirmed. "Do you suppose that was the +sick little boy?" + +"If he's sick," Rick said grimly, "it's trigger fever. I think he'd +like to take a shot at someone." + +"It would sure be an effective way of discouraging trespassers. Why do +you suppose they crave privacy so much?" + +"Beats me," Rick said. "We'll have to ask Cap'n Mike." + +The launch passed the edge of the Creek House fence and came to a +strip of sandy beach. The road ended a few feet from the beach. A +number of cars were parked in the area, and along Smugglers' Reef were +the occupants, most of them standing around the wreck. + +"I'll run the launch in as far as I can," Risk directed, "then you +jump ashore with the anchor." + +"Okay." Scotty went forward and took the small anchor from its +lashings, making sure he had plenty of line. As Rick pushed the bow of +the launch into shallow water until it grated on the sand, Scotty +jumped across the six feet of open water to the beach. + +Rick took the keys from the ignition and joined him. Together they +pulled the launch in a foot or two more, then dug the anchor into the +sand. It would hold until the tide changed. + +"Let's go look at the wreck," Scotty said. + +Rick nodded. "Afterward, I think we'd better go look up Cap'n Mike. I +have some questions I want to ask him." + +"About what?" + +"Something he said last night. And about the Kelsos." + +They reached the old light tower and paused to examine it. Salt air +had etched the steel of the frame badly. The tower was almost forty +feet high, about twice as tall as the present light. At its top had +been a wooden platform where the lightkeeper had once stood to care +for the light. A rusty metal ladder led up one side of the tower to +where the platform had been. + +Rick wondered why the authorities had abandoned the tower in favor of +the smaller light at the very tip of the reef and decided it probably +was because having the warning signal at the very point was more +practical. That way, a ship needed only to clear the light without +worrying about how far away from the light it had to pass. + +"Let's go," Scotty said. "Nothing interesting about this relic." + +They joined the group of men at the wreck of the _Sea Belle_ and saw +that the wreck was being inspected, probably by the insurance people. +A question to one of the watchers affirmed the guess. Rick asked, +"What do they expect to find?" + +"Search me." + +Scotty nudged Rick. "We won't have to look far for Cap'n Mike. There +he is." + +The old man was seated on a rock, whittling at a twig. Seemingly, he +paid no attention to anything going on. Now and then he looked out to +sea, but mostly he paid attention to his whittling. + +Rick walked over, Scotty behind him. "Good morning, Cap'n Mike." + +"'Morning, boys." + +"Remember us?" + +"Sure do. Where's the reporter?" + +"He's not with us. We came down to do a little fishing." + +Bright eyes twinkled at them. "Fishing, eh? What kind?" + +"We thought we might get some blackfish at the end of the reef," +Scotty replied. + +"You might at that," Cap'n Mike said. "You might gets crabs off the +end of the Creek House pier, too, if Red Kelso would let you try. Did +you ask him?" + +Rick grinned. Cap'n Mike might not seem to be paying attention, but +evidently he didn't miss much. + +"We didn't ask him," he said. "Maybe we didn't even see him." He knew +Cap'n Mike could have seen the boat vanish upcreek and return, but he +wouldn't have been able to see past the fence. + +"Maybe you didn't," the old captain conceded. "But you sure saw +somebody, and it had to be Kelso or that boy of his." + +"Why do they want so much privacy?" Scotty demanded. + +Cap'n Mike ignored the question. "You really got any fishing gear in +that launch?" + +"Hand lines," Rick said. + +"That's good as anything. Now, I always say a man can't think proper +in a mob like this. Too distracting. So let's go fishing and do some +thinking. What say?" + +Rick's glance met Scotty's. Cap'n Mike had his own way of doing +things. They had nothing to lose by humoring him. + +"Let's go," Scotty said. + +As they passed the wreck, Rick stopped for a moment to look at it +again. The air was even heavier than the night before with the reek of +dead fish. They were scattered along the reef in shoals ten feet wide. +By daylight he could see that the trawler was finished. She had broken +her back and torn out a good part of her bottom. She must have been +really making knots to hit like that. + +"Cap'n, exactly what was the weather like when Tom Tyler hit?" Rick +asked. + +"Not bad. Visibility might have been less than real perfect, but it +wouldn't have interfered with him seeing the light." + +"Would it have interfered with him seeing the reef if the light had +been out?" + +"I reckon it would. Until he was right on it, anyway." + +Rick turned the information over in his mind. "Were any other trawlers +out last night?" + +"Plenty. The _Sea Belle_ was first in, but the rest were right behind. +The light was burning, all right. I thought of that, too, son." + +"My name is Rick Brant. This is Don Scott. We call him Scotty." + +"Knew you both," Cap'n Mike said. "I subscribe to the paper your +friend writes for. Seen your pictures couple of times. Didn't you just +get back from somewhere?" + +"The South Pacific," Scotty said. + +"Used to sail those waters. Reckon things have changed some." + +"The war changed the islands," Scotty told him. "Especially...." he +stopped suddenly and took Rick's arm. "Look." + +The elder Kelso was standing in front of the launch. + +"What do you suppose he's after?" Rick asked. + +Before Scotty or Cap'n Mike could think up an answer, Kelso turned and +walked back along the beach. There was a foot or two of space between +the water of the creek and the hotel fence. The redheaded man slipped +through it and vanished from sight. + +"I'll bet he came out just to look the boat over," Scotty guessed, +"and there's only one reason I can think of why he'd do that. He +wanted to see if he could find out more about us." + +"Unless he admired the launch and wanted a closer look at it," Rick +added. + +Cap'n Mike snorted. "Red Kelso's got no eye for beauty, in boats, +anyway." + +"Then my guess must have been right," Scotty said. + +"Right or wrong," Cap'n Mike retorted, "I can't say's I like it. I +wish you boys had talked to me before you decided to invade Salt +Creek!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A Warning + + +Cap'n Mike tested his line, then gave a sharp tug. He hauled rapidly +and lifted a three-pound blackfish into the boat. + +"Practically a minnow," he said. + +"Did we come out here to fish or to talk?" Rick asked. They were +anchored a few hundred yards off the reef tip and had been for almost +an hour. In that time Cap'n Mike had made a good haul of four blacks, +one flounder and a porgy. Rick and Scotty had caught two blacks +apiece. + +There was a definite twinkle in Cap'n Mike's eyes. "Came to talk," he +said. "But the fish are biting too good. Better fish while the +fishing's good. Time enough to talk later." + +"Time enough for fishing later, you mean," Rick retorted. "Hauling in +blackfish isn't going to find out why the _Sea Belle_ was wrecked." + +"Got the answer to that already," Cap'n Mike said. + +Rick and Scotty stared. "You have?" Rick asked incredulously. + +"Stands to reason. Didn't you tell me you knew Mrs. Tyler was scared?" + +"Yes, but what...." + +"Well, Tom is scared, too. He wasn't, until the _Sea Belle_ was +wrecked, but he sure is now. That's why he's sticking to that story of +his instead of telling the truth." + +"What is the truth?" Scotty demanded. + +"Don't know that. Yet. Reckon I'll find out, though. Only I'll need +some help." + +Keen eyes surveyed the two boys. + +Rick worked his hand line absently. "You mean you want us to help?" + +"Seems I've read about you boys solving a mystery or two, haven't I?" + +"We've had a couple of lucky breaks," Scotty said. "We're not real +detectives." + +Cap'n Mike tried his line and muttered, "Feels like a cunner is +stealing my bait. Well, boys, I wouldn't be surprised none if a little +luck like yours is what we need. Can't pretend, though, that you might +not be walking right into something you wouldn't like. Anything that +scares Tom Tyler is something anyone with sense would be afraid of." + +Rick hauled in his line and saw that his bait was gone. He rebaited, +his mind on what he already knew of the case. "I've been wanting to +ask you," he said. "That answer you gave to Jerry when he asked where +Tom Tyler was. You said 'Inside. Surrounded by fools.' What did you +mean?" + +Cap'n Mike sniffed. "Just what I said. If the constable and the rest +hadn't been fools they would have known that Tom Tyler was afraid to +talk. Just like plenty of others are afraid." + +Rick picked up his ears. "Others? Cap'n, I think you know a few things +you haven't told us." + +The old seaman hauled in his line and grunted when he saw that his +bait had been stolen. "Reckon we got too many bait stealers down below +now. Either of you boys hungry?" + +"I am," Scotty said promptly. + +"I could eat," Rick admitted. He looked at his watch. It was almost +noon. + +"Then let's haul anchor and get out of here." + +In a moment the hand lines were wound on driers and the anchor stowed. +At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pointed the launch to the south, +toward the town. The old man took out his pocketknife, whetted it +briefly on the sole of his shoe, and commenced to clean and fillet the +fish they had caught. Scotty slipped into the seat beside Rick. + +"What do you think about trying to solve this one?" + +Rick shrugged. There was nothing he enjoyed as much as a mystery, but +he wanted more information from Captain Michael O'Shannon before he +agreed to anything. He had suspected that the old seaman knew more +than he was saying. "We'll wait and see what develops," he said. "Okay +with you?" + +"Suits me," Scotty agreed. + +The launch sped past Million Dollar Row, leaving behind a string of +fishy waste as Cap'n Mike went on with his cleaning. By the time they +were even with the town he had a handsome stack of white boneless +fillets all ready for the pan. He brought them forward and took a +seat next to Scotty. "Guess these'll taste mighty good. Got a little +fresh bread and plenty of butter to go with 'em." + +Rick pointed to a large barnlike structure on the biggest pier in +front of the town. "What's that?" + +"Fish market. That's where most of the trawlers load and unload. It's +quiet now, because the fleet is out, but after dark when they come in, +and early in the morning before they leave--that's the busiest place +in these parts. I'll take you down there one of these times. Might be +we'll find a couple of answers there." + +He pointed to an old windmill on the shore just below the town. "Steer +for that." + +"Do you live there?" Scotty asked. + +"I live in a shack behind it. But there's a place to tie up. You'll +see it in a minute." + +As the captain had said, there was a small dock in front of the +windmill. Rick headed the launch for it and in a short time they were +tied up. Behind the mill, which was an old ruin that had been used a +half century before for grinding meal, was the road leading south from +Seaford. Across the road was a weather-beaten fisherman's shack. + +Cap'n Mike pushed the door open. "It ain't no palace," he said, "but +it's home and I'm proud to welcome you. Come on in." + +Inside, Rick stared around him with appreciative surprise. The little +shanty was as neat and efficient as a ship's cabin. On one side was a +tiny galley with everything neatly stowed. On the other was a built-in +bunk. The walls had been papered with old charts, and he saw that +most of them were of the New York-New Jersey area. A ship's lantern, +wired for electricity, hung so low that it almost brushed Scotty's +head. Ship models lined the mantel. + +Cap'n Mike was already at work in the galley. With no waste motion he +produced a coffeepot, filled it with water, dumped in a handful of +coffee and put it on the stove. He whisked a match across the seat of +his pants and lit the kerosene. Then he produced a paper bag, shook in +flour, salt and pepper, dumped in the fish and closed the bag, shaking +it violently a few times with one hand while he produced a frying pan +with the other. In a moment the pan was full of frying fish. A +breadbox yielded a loaf of homemade bread. + +Before Rick and Scotty quite realized that lunch was ready, he had +them seated at a table that folded down from the wall, with a smoking +platter of fillets in front of them. + +"Eat," he commanded. + +Rick was no fish fancier, but he had to admit that this was delicious. +And the coffee, in spite of the apparent carelessness with which it +had been made, was the best ever. + +When the last drop had been consumed, Cap'n Mike pushed back his +chair. "Let's get down to brass tacks," he said. "Do you go along with +me or not?" + +Rick dropped into the idiom of the sea. "I like to know the course +before I haul anchor." + +Cap'n Mike chuckled. "Didn't expect caution or wisdom from you." + +Scotty grinned. "Don't worry. He's neither cautious nor wise. He can't +wait to get started and neither can I. But Rick's right. We have to +know the whole story." + +"Right. Well, there isn't much. Something's been going on in Seaford. +Don't ask me what, because I don't know. I think Tom Tyler does, and I +think his finding out is what led to the wreck of the _Sea Belle_." He +held up his hand as Rick's lips framed a question. "You're going to +ask me how I know that. Well, I don't know it. I just suspect it. I +was a mite too positive when I said I knew. All I know is Tom Tyler +told me one day that he had an idea that something strange was going +on at the Creek House, and that he intended to find out what it was. +Now! He must have had a good idea that whatever was going on was +crooked, because Tom isn't the kind of man to pry into folks' business +without a good purpose." + +"Do you think he found out?" Rick asked. + +"I do. I think he found out four nights ago. I was sitting in my dory +jigging for eels a little distance down from the Creek House fence +right at the mouth of Salt Creek. I saw Tom. He didn't know I saw him. +He came around the corner of the fence and for a minute he was +silhouetted against a light. I didn't see his face, but I'm sure. +Known him since he was a shaver. Next morning I bumped into him at the +pier, getting ready to go out on the _Sea Belle_. He said to see him +at his house that night, because he had something to talk to me about. +Well, I saw him that night, but not at his house. He was sitting at a +corner table in Sam's Lobster House, and can you guess who was with +him?" + +"Red Kelso?" + +Cap'n Mike nodded at Rick. "It was Kelso. He was doing the talking, +too, and from the expression on Tom's face, he wasn't saying anything +Tom liked a whole lot. After a while he left, and I went over to Tom. +I asked casual-like what it was he wanted to talk with me about and he +froze up like a clam. He was scared, at first. Then he seemed to get +sort of mad, too, because he said, 'I'm going to call his bluff. Wait +and see.'" + +"Meaning Kelso," Scotty said. + +"I reckon, but Tom wouldn't talk. He said it was better that I didn't +know what he was talking about. He got up and left and I didn't see +him again until last night at City Hall after he wrecked the _Sea +Belle_." + +Rick thought it over. The logical deduction was that Tom Tyler had +somehow gotten suspicious of the Kelsos and what they were doing at +Creek House and had gone spying. Kelso had found out Tyler had spied +on him and had warned him, although Rick couldn't imagine what club he +had held over Tyler's head. Tyler had ignored the warning and somehow +Kelso had contrived to wreck the trawler. But how? + +"Was the regular crew aboard the _Sea Belle_?" he asked. + +"Yes. Just the regulars. All good men who've sailed with Tom Tyler for +more'n ten years." + +"You said Mrs. Tyler was afraid, too," Scotty remembered. + +Cap'n Mike shrugged. "Probably Tom talked the whole thing over with +her." + +There had been an air of tension at the wreck last night, Rick +thought. Maybe other fishermen were in it, too. He put the question to +Cap'n Mike. + +"I don't think so," the old man said. "The whole town knows +something's up. They know Tom Tyler doesn't wince at shadows. If he's +afraid, and they know he is, he's got reasons. That makes 'em all +uneasy. But there is one gang that I'm sure is mixed up in this, and +that's the bunch on the _Albatross_. She's a fishing craft just like +Tom's, only her skipper isn't much like Tom. Name's Brad Marbek." + +Rick stretched his legs. "Why do you think he and his crew are mixed +up in it?" + +"Eel fishing is a good business for them as wants information," Cap'n +Mike said. + +Rick hid a smile. The old seaman was bursting with curiosity about the +Creek House and its new inhabitants. He had a picture of him sitting +patiently at the mouth of Salt Creek, ostensibly fishing but actually +watching to see what he could find out. + +"I've seen the _Albatross_ tied up at Salt Creek pier three times," +the captain went on. "Now! Why would a trawler, loaded to the gunwales +with menhaden, stop at the hotel before coming in to the fish wharves +to unload?" + +"Not for social purposes, that's certain," Rick said. + +"Find out why and we're a lot closer to the solution," Cap'n Mike +stated. + +Rick had the germ of an idea. "How far out do the trawlers go?" + +"Few miles. Fishing grounds start a couple of miles out. Why?" + +"Just an idea." + +Scotty's eyes met Rick's. "Thinking about going to take a look?" + +"Could be. What time do they leave here, and what time do they get +back?" + +"They leave about four in the morning at this time of year. Mostly +they don't get back until around nine. They like to get to the grounds +by daylight and fish until dark. If they get a full load before dark, +of course they come in earlier." + +Rick grinned at Scotty. "Ever wanted to be a reporter?" + +"Nope. My spelling isn't that good." + +"Well, you're going to be one. Let's get home. I want to make a call +to the Whiteside _Morning Record_." + +Cap'n Mike's eyes brightened. "So you'll work along with me, hey? Knew +you would. What happens now?" + +"First thing is to interview Captain Tyler and his crew," Rick said. + +Cap'n Mike shook his head. "You'd be wasting time. I've already tried. +Tom's not saying a word, even to his old friends, and the crew has +orders from him not to talk. They're loyal. You'll get nothing out of +'em." + +"All right," Rick said, disappointed. If the fishermen wouldn't talk +to Cap'n Mike they certainly wouldn't talk to him and Scotty. "Then +we'll go back to Spindrift and do a couple of chores. We'll come back +to Seaford tonight. I'd like to get a look at the _Albatross_, if you +can fix it." + +"Easy." Cap'n Mike rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm betting +we can get Tom Tyler out of this." + +Rick scratched his head thoughtfully. "Don't get your hopes too high, +Cap'n Mike. We're only a couple of amateurs, remember." + +"Some amateurs are better than some professionals, no matter what the +business. I'm not worried any more." + +Cap'n Mike walked down to the boat landing in front of the old +windmill with them. "How will you come down tonight?" + +"I'll try to borrow a car," Rick said. "Think Jerry will lend us his, +Scotty?" + +"If he isn't using it. If he is, maybe we can borrow Gus's." + +Scotty walked to the stern of the launch and untied the line that held +it to the pier. Rick loosed the bow line, then jumped into the pilot's +seat. As he did so, he sat on a sheet of paper. He had left no paper +on the seat. He rescued it and turned it over. There was a message on +the back, printed in pencil in huge block letters. Its content sent a +sudden shiver through him. He beckoned to Scotty and handed it to him. +"Looks like someone can read enough to get our home port off the stern +of the launch." + +Scotty scanned it rapidly, then whistled softly. For Cap'n Mike's +benefit, he read it aloud. + + _KEEP OUT OF THIS. KEEP OUT OF SEAFORD AND STAY AWAY FROM + SHANNON. STAY AT SPINDRIFT WHERE YOU BELONG. YOU'LL GET HURT + IF YOU DON'T._ + +Scotty's face took on an injured expression. "To read that," he +complained, "you'd think we weren't wanted here!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +The Mysterious Phone Call + + +Rick hung up the phone in the Spindrift library and turned to Scotty. +"Jerry is using his car tonight. But Duke says okay. He'll make out a +reporter's identity card for you and a photographer's card for me. +Only if anything interesting turns up, we have to give him a story." + +"Good thing papers have rewrite men," Scotty said, grinning. "It's all +I can do to write a readable letter. A news story would be way beyond +me." + +Rick picked up the phone again. "I'll see if Gus is using his car." + +Gus, owner, chief mechanic, and general factotum of the Whiteside +Airport, had loaned his car to Rick on several occasions. His hope, he +explained every time, was that Rick would drive it to pieces so he +could collect the insurance and get a better one. + +In a moment Gus answered. "It's Gus." + +"Rick here, Gus. That ancient clunk of yours still running?" + +Gus's voice assumed wounded dignity. "Are you speaking of my airplane +or my automobile?" + +"Your limousine. Using it tonight?" + +"Nope. Don't drive it any more than I have to. When do you want it?" + +"About eight, if that's all right." + +"Okay. I'll drop it off at the dock. Don't bother bringing it back. +Just let me know where it is so I can tell the insurance company." + +"I'm a safe driver, Gus," Rick said with a grin. + +"If I believed that I wouldn't lend you the car. Leave it in my back +yard when you get through, huh?" + +"Thanks a million, Gus. I'll take good care of it." + +"Don't. You'll spoil it." + +Rick rang off. "What time is it?" + +"About half past three," Scotty said. "Why?" + +"Let's take the Cub up for a little spin." + +Scotty chuckled. "You're never as happy as when you're trying to +unravel a mystery. Any mystery." + +"You don't like it," Rick scoffed. "You like a peaceful, quiet life. A +book and a hammock. That's for you. Why don't you go get one of your +Oat Operas to read and leave the mystery to me?" + +"Got to keep you out of trouble," Scotty said amiably. "It isn't +because I'm interested." + +They walked from the house into the orchard that separated the low, +gray stone laboratory buildings from the house and headed toward the +air strip. The strip was grass-covered and just big enough for a small +plane like Rick's. It ran along the seaward side of the island, with +the orchard on one side and the sea cliff on the other. + +"Just thought," Scotty said suddenly. "We'd better have some +binoculars if we're going out to take a look at the fleet." + +"I'll warm up while you get them," Rick agreed. He started the engine +and warmed the plane until Scotty arrived with a pair of ten-power +binoculars. + +Scotty untied the parking ropes and pulled out the wheel chocks, then +got into his seat. "Let's go," he said. + +Rick nodded and advanced the throttle. In a moment the Cub lifted +easily from the grass. + +Rick settled down to the business of flying. He looked at the sea +below and estimated the wind force. Mentally he figured his probable +drift, then decided on south-southeast as his compass heading, and +swung the little plane on course. + +"Checked the equipment recently?" Scotty asked. + +He referred to the two-man life raft and signaling pistol Rick had +purchased from Navy surplus for just such overwater flights as this. + +"Went through it Saturday," Rick said. "But don't worry. We won't get +your feet wet." + +"You hadn't better," Scotty retorted. "These are new shoes I have on." +He paused. "What do you think about that warning?" + +They had discussed it thoroughly on the way home from Seaford, +examining all possibilities. "I haven't changed my mind," Rick said. +"I think it was Carrots Kelso." + +He reasoned that Red Kelso, the boy's father, had too much sense to +try warning them away. The only purpose the warning would serve would +be to arouse their curiosity even more--which it had certainly done. + +"That Carrots is a queer one," Scotty said. He had to raise his voice +slightly because of the engine's drone. "Did you notice the rifle he +carried?" + +"And how! It looked like a .30-30." + +"It wasn't." + +Rick looked at Scotty in surprise. "No?" + +"Nope. It looked like one because of the lever. Sport carbines have +those to lever cartridges into the chamber. But this one had a lever +for pumping air. I've only seen one like it before, and a professional +hunter in Australia had that one. He used it for collecting specimens +when he didn't want to make noise. Sometimes he found several +wallabies or Tasmanian wolves together and he could get two or three +before they knew what was up." + +"You mean an air gun has enough power to use for hunting?" Rick knew +modern air guns had high penetrating power, but he had never heard of +one powerful enough to use on animals as big as wolves. + +"This model has," Scotty told him. "It was made by the Breda Gun +Company in Czechoslovakia before the war. The slug is about .25 +caliber, but heavier than the kind we have in America." + +"Wonder where he got it," Rick mused. + +"Hard to tell. They're expensive guns, believe me." + +The Cub had been flying only a few hundred feet above the water. +Behind them, the New Jersey coast was still in sight. Rick climbed to +a thousand feet and told Scotty to start looking for the fishing +fleet. + +"How many shots can you get out of that air rifle?" Rick asked. + +"Just one. It's automatic loading, but it has to be pumped up each +time. That's not as hard as it sounds, though, because the pump is +made so that two strokes will give it a full air charge. It's about as +fast firing as a single-shot .22 rifle." + +Rick's eyes scanned the horizon. "How do you suppose Carrots tracked +us to Cap'n Mike's shack?" + +"Easy enough. He could hike along the shore and keep us in sight." + +"He was risking being seen when he put that warning on the seat. +Suppose one of us had looked out the window?" + +"Then he would have pretended to be just hiking, or looking at the +boat or something. It wasn't really much of a risk." + +"I suppose not," Rick agreed. Small specks on the horizon caught his +eye suddenly and he pointed. "There's the fleet!" + +Scotty held the binoculars to his eyes. "Sure enough. About eight +trawlers so far, pretty well scattered." + +In a few moments they could see clouds of gulls and petrels around the +boats, a sure sign of plenty of fish. Then they made out the details +of the big nets used by the fishermen for catching the menhaden. + +"See if you can spot the _Albatross_," Rick said. + +"You'll have to go down and pass each boat, then. I couldn't make out +the names from this height." + +"Okay. Here we go." + +On each of the craft, fishermen waved as the Cub sped past. Scotty +read the names aloud. None of the trawlers was the _Albatross_. + +Rick put the Cub into a climb. "There must be other trawlers around. +Let's go up and take a look." + +Scotty shook his head. "I have a better idea. We'll see the +_Albatross_ tonight, anyway. Why not go into shore and fly over Creek +House? Sometimes you can see things from the air you can't see from +the ground." + +Rick considered. Flying out to the fleet had been only an impulse +anyway; he hadn't expected to see anything. He was quite sure the +_Albatross_ would look and act just like the rest of the Seaford +fleet. + +"Good idea," he said finally, and banked the Cub around. He pointed +the little plane south of west to compensate for the wind, then +settled back. + +Rick kept an eye out for landmarks as the coast approached and +presently he made out the steel towers of an antenna field. That would +be the Loran radio range south of Seaford. He had compensated a little +too much for drift. He banked north and in a few moments Scotty +spotted Seaford. + +Rick dropped down, but kept out to sea so that he wouldn't violate the +law about flying too low over towns. He saw the windmill and Cap'n +Mike's shack behind it. + +"Go past Smugglers' Reef and then turn and come back over Creek +House," Scotty suggested. + +Rick nodded. Dead ahead he could see the curving arm of the reef and +the wreck of Tyler's trawler. He saw that the fishing craft had piled +up just about midway between the navigation light on the reef's tip +and the old tower where the light formerly had been. Men were working +about the trawler. Then, as the Cub flashed overhead, he saw a large +truck that had backed down the reef toward the wreck as far as it was +safe to go. + +Scotty had been watching through the glasses. As Rick swung wide out +to sea and banked around to go south again, he said, "Know what +they're doing down there? They're stripping the wreck." + +"That makes sense," Rick said. "Probably the insurance company wants +to salvage what it can. They'd have to act fast before sea water +ruined the engines." + +He banked sharply over Brendan's Marsh. To the right was the highway +leading from Whiteside to Seaford. Between the highway and the sea was +the marsh. Although the marsh looked like solid growth from the +ground, it could be seen that it was cut up by narrow waterways, most +of which wandered aimlessly through the rushes and then vanished. Salt +Creek was sharply defined, however, indicating that it was much deeper +than the surrounding water. + +The Creek House was fenced in on only two sides, he saw. The high +boards separated it from the next hotel on the south, and from the +road on the sea front. But inland, a continuation of the marsh served +as a dividing line. Salt Creek made the fourth side. The old mansion +was set in the middle of the square with a big combination garage and +boathouse behind it, almost against the marsh on the creek side. The +doors were open and he could make out a black car, probably a coupe or +two-door model, in one of the stalls. + +"See anyone?" Scotty asked. + +"Not a soul." Evidently the Kelsos were indoors. + +Rick climbed as the Cub passed over Seaford, then turned out to sea +and went northward again. Scotty kept the glasses on Smugglers' Reef. +As they flashed past, he swiveled sharply. "Rick, make another run, +right over the wreck." + +"You won't be able to see it if I go right over it," Rick objected. + +"I don't want to see the wreck, I want a closer look at the old +tower." + +Rick shot a glance at his pal. "See something?" + +"I'm not sure." + +"I'll throttle down so you can get a better look." He made a slow +bank, lined up the wreck and throttled down, dropping the nose to a +shallow glide in order to maintain flying speed. As the Cub passed the +old tower, he looked curiously. He couldn't imagine what had attracted +Scotty's interest. The thing was only a steel framework, red with +rust. Not even the top platform was left. + +Off Seaford, he banked out to sea again. + +"See enough?" + +Scotty dropped the binoculars to his lap. "I saw bright metal on the +lowest cross girder. I couldn't tell much, but it looked like a deep +scratch. And some of the rust had been flaked off around the spot, +too. I could tell because it was a redder color than the rest." + +Rick thought it over. "I can't make anything out of that," he said +finally. "What's your guess?" + +Scotty shrugged. "I don't have one. But it's a cinch someone has been +up there, and within the past couple of days, too. Raw metal rusts +fast right over the sea like that, and this spot was bright enough to +attract my attention. Maybe we'd better have a closer look from the +ground." + +"It wouldn't hurt," Rick agreed. "Well, what now?" + +"Might as well go home," Scotty said. "We can take it easy until after +dinner, and then go to Whiteside, pick up those cards from Duke and +get the car from Gus." + +They had been flying steadily north. A moment later Spindrift loomed +on the horizon. Rick saw the gray lab building and, to its left, +Pirate's Field where the rocket launcher had once stood. He waited +until the Cub was abreast of the old oak on the mainland that he used +as a landmark, then cut the throttle. The plane lost altitude rapidly, +passed a few feet over the radar antenna on the lab building and +settled to the grass strip. Rick gunned the tail around and rolled to +the parking place. + +They staked down the Cub and walked through the orchard to the house. +In the kitchen, Mrs. Brant was rolling out piecrust. She smiled at the +boys. "Been riding?" + +"We went out to watch the fishing fleet," Rick said, "then swung down +over Seaford for another look at that wrecked trawler. What kind of +pie, Mom?" + +"Butterscotch." + +Scotty smacked his lips. "We should have waited a little while, then +we could have had a sample when we got in." + +"No samples," Mrs. Brant said. "It would spoil your supper." + +"Not mine," Scotty replied. "Nothing spoils my supper. Got any +doughnuts handy, Mom?" + +Mrs. Brant sighed. "In the stone crock. And there's milk in the +refrigerator. But only one doughnut!" + +"Only one," Scotty agreed. "How about you, Rick?" + +"I'm not hungry. I think I'll go up and work on the camera for a +while." He would have over an hour to work on it before it was time to +eat. He started for the stairs, then paused as the telephone rang. + +Hartson Brant, who was working in the library, answered it and called, +"Rick? It's for you." + +"I'll take it upstairs, Dad." He hurried to the top of the stairs and +picked up the hall phone. + +"Hello?" + +"Rick Brant?" + +Rick stiffened. It was a man's voice, but obviously disguised as +though the man spoke through a handkerchief held over the mouthpiece. + +"Yes. Who is it?" + +"A friend," the disguised voice answered. "You're a nice kid and I +don't like to see you getting into trouble. Keep out of Seaford. +Remember that! Keep out of Seaford and stop flying over in your +airplane or you're going to get hurt. You won't be warned again. Next +time, you'll wake up in a hospital!" + +There was a click as the speaker hung up. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The "Albatross" + + +"Know what I like about you?" Scotty said. + +"My charm," Rick answered. "Or is it that I like food as much as you +do?" + +"Neither. What I like about you is your caution. The very soul of +prudence, that's what you are. Your instinct for self-preservation is +exceeded by only one thing." + +"My," Rick said. "That's almost poetic. What's the one thing?" + +"Your instinct for getting into trouble," Scotty stated. "You get a +warning to stay away from Seaford, so what happens next?" He waved at +the scenery as they sped past in Gus's old car. "Naturally we head for +Seaford at ninety miles an hour, not even stopping to pick up our +press cards." + +Rick laughed. "Be accurate. This old heap can't go ninety miles an +hour. Besides, it's only my never-ending search for the truth that +leads me to Seaford. I want to find out if the warning is true." + +Scotty sighed. "Whoever it was that phoned should know you as I do. If +we needed anything to sharpen the famous Brant nose for trouble, it +was that phone call. I suppose now we'll spend all our waking hours +commuting back and forth to Seaford." + +"Not all," Rick corrected. "Some of the time we'll be in Seaford." + +"Any idea who it was that phoned?" + +"It could have been anyone. But I don't think it was Carrots Kelso. +The voice was an older man's. Maybe it was his father, but I didn't +hear enough of his voice to recognize it." + +"Why should anyone worry about us looking into things?" + +"Respect," Rick said, wincing as the car bounced across Salt Creek +Bridge. "Respect for the genius of Spindrift's two leading detectives. +Can't think of any other reason." + +"Unless whatever is going on would be so obvious to anyone who took +the trouble to investigate that the party concerned doesn't even want +two simple-minded souls like us poking around." + +"Such modesty," Rick clucked. + +"Okay, Hawkshaw," Scotty said resignedly. "On to Seaford. We'll +probably find the answer just as the villain lowers the boom on us." + +Rick swung into the Seaford turnoff and slowed for the main street. He +went straight ahead to the water front and then turned right. In a few +moments the car drew up in front of Cap'n Mike's shack. + +The captain opened the door and peered out. "Be with you in a minute." +In much less than a minute he was out again, clad in a jacket and +officer's cap. + +"Howdy," he greeted them. "See much from your airplane?" + +"How did you know it was our airplane?" Rick asked curiously. + +"Pshaw! You don't give people credit for knowing much, do you? I'll +bet everyone in Seaford knows about your airplane. Everyone who reads +the Whiteside _Morning Record_, anyway." + +"But all Cubs look alike," Rick protested, "and most of them are +painted yellow." + +Cap'n Mike snorted. "What of it? No other yellow planes in this area, +and you been seen on the ground in Seaford twice already. What would +anyone think? Especially when you're on a direct bearing for Spindrift +when you leave?" + +"He's got something there," Scotty said. "It's a logical conclusion." + +Rick had to agree. "Well, you're the guide, Cap'n. Where to?" + +"The pier." Cap'n Mike looked at the fast-fading light in the west. +"It's time for the trawlers to be coming in. Reckon we'll talk to a +couple of folks and get a look at the _Albatross_ and her crew." + +Rick turned the car around and headed for town. "Why don't you tell us +all you know about the _Albatross_ visiting Creek House?" + +"I intended to. First off, the _Albatross_ has been there three times +that I know of. And each time she has put in on her way back from the +fishing grounds. Now, that's mighty strange. First thing a captain +thinks of is getting his fish into port. But not Brad Marbek. Instead, +he lays at the Creek House pier until nigh onto midnight. Then he +puts into the wharf and unloads his fish. What do you make out of +that?" + +Rick could make nothing out of it. The _Albatross_ certainly wouldn't +be calling at Creek House just to be sociable. "Were these calls made +at regular intervals?" he asked. + +"Nope. One was two weeks ago, one was four nights ago, and the last +time was night before last." + +"Wasn't four nights ago the night you saw Tom Tyler at Creek House?" +Scotty recalled. + +"It was. That's one reason why I'm sure the _Albatross_ is tied up +with the wreck of the _Sea Belle_." + +Rick searched for possible reasons why the trawler should tie up at +Creek House and rejected all but one. He had the beginnings of an +idea, but he needed to think about it a little more before he broached +it. + +"Cap'n, you've been keeping an eye on the Kelsos for quite a while, +sounds like," Rick said. "Do they ever have any visitors?" + +"Haven't seen any." + +"No trucks?" Rick asked. + +"Haven't seen any." + +They were approaching the big, shedlike fish pier. It was brilliantly +lighted. At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pulled off the street and +parked. + +"What happens to the menhaden after they're unloaded?" Scotty wanted +to know. + +"Ever notice that one-story building next to the pier? Well, they go +into that on conveyer belts. Then the oil is cooked out of them and +what's left is turned into feed or fertilizer. You'd know if you'd +ever been here while the plant was processing and the wind was +inshore. Dangdest smell you ever smelled. Like to ruin your nose." + +Rick sniffed the fishy air. "I believe it," he said. + +Cap'n Mike had been leading the way toward the big pier. Now he turned +onto the pier itself. Some trawlers already were tied up and were +being unloaded by bucket cranes. The reek of fish was strong enough to +make Rick wish for a gas mask. He saw Scotty's nose wrinkle and knew +his pal wasn't enjoying it, either. + +The captain stopped at the first trawler and hailed the bridge. A big +man in an officer's cap answered the hail. + +"Let's go aboard," Cap'n Mike said. "This here is the _Jennie Lake_. +We'll talk with Bill Lake for a minute." + +Bill Lake was the skipper, and the man they had seen directing the +unloading from the bridge. He greeted Cap'n Mike cordially. The +captain introduced the two boys and Lake shook hands without taking +his eyes from the unloading operation. Rick saw a scoop drop into the +hold and come up with a slippery half-ton of menhaden. Then it sped +along a beam track into the big shed, paused over a wide conveyer +belt, lowered to within a few feet of the belt and dumped its load. A +clerk just inside the door marked the load on a board. Rick looked for +the winch operator and found him opposite the clerk. + +The scoop came back rapidly, sped out the track extension above the +hold, and paused. Bill Lake signaled and the big bucket dropped +slowly. At a further signal, it opened its jaws and plunged into the +mass of fish, then slowly crunched closed and lifted again. There was +certainly no waste motion here, Rick thought. + +Cap'n Mike asked, too casually, "What'd you think of Tom Tyler running +on Smugglers' Reef, Bill?" + +Bill's cordiality seemed to freeze up. "None of my business," he said +shortly. "Can't pass judgment on a fellow skipper." + +Cap'n Mike nodded. "Reckon that's right. Bill, how did you find +visibility last night?" + +"None too good. There was a heavy current running, too." + +"That's interesting. How'd you know that?" + +"Patch of mist drifted in. Anyway, I lost the light for a bit. When +the mist cleared, the current had set us two points off course." +Captain Lake's forehead wrinkled as he watched the scoop return for +another load. "Mighty funny, too. Usually there's no current to speak +of off Brendan's Marsh. But I've said for quite a while that the +currents hereabouts are changing and it looks like this proves it." + +"Was Captain Tyler directly ahead of you, sir?" Rick asked. + +"Not directly. He was three ahead, the way I figure. Brad Marbek was +right behind him, then came Jim Killian." + +"How far apart were you?" Rick inquired. + +"Quite a ways. Jim was pretty close in front of me, but Brad was +almost out of my sight. Don't know how close he followed Tom." + +Cap'n Mike spat over the side. "Sad business, anyway," he said. "Well, +Bill, I'm taking these lads on a little tour of the pier. Reckon we'll +be pushing along. Looks like you'll be busy unloading for an hour or +so." + +The boys shook hands with Captain Lake again, then followed their +guide to the pier once more. Cap'n Mike waited until a scoopful of +menhaden had passed overhead then led the way down the pier. + +"I wonder if Captain Killian got set off course by that current," Rick +mused. "I'd like to talk to him." + +Cap'n Mike shot a glance at him. "Might be interesting at that. You +thinking the same as I am?" + +"We all are," Scotty replied. "That business about losing the light +and having the current set him off course sounded kind of strange." + +"Is he a good guy?" Rick queried. + +"Best there is. If he says it, it happened. But it's mighty funny just +the same. Reckon we'll have to find Jim Killian." + +They passed three trawlers, all unloading, and Rick recognized names +that Scotty had read aloud during their brief flight over the fleet. +Many of the men they passed hailed Cap'n Mike. Evidently he was well +known to the fisherman and pier workers. + +Suddenly the old man stopped. "There's Brad Marbek's craft." + +The next trawler in line was the _Albatross_. + +Rick looked it over critically. It was indistinguishable from the +others. There was the same cabin, set well forward, the same large +working space aft, the same net booms. It was no dirtier nor cleaner +than the others. Evidently it was filled with fish, because only the +top Plimsoll number was showing. But the skipper was far from average. +Brad Marbek, as Rick saw him on the deck overhead, was a bull of a +man. He was about six feet tall, but his width made him look shorter. +His shoulder span would have done credit to a Percheron horse, and +from his shoulders his torso dropped in almost a straight line. His +waist lacked only an inch or two of being as wide as his shoulders. +His legs were short and thick and planted wide on the deck. His head +was massive and set squarely on his shoulders with hardly any neck. He +was hatless and his coarse black hair, cropped short, stood straight +up like a vegetable brush. His face was weathered to a dark mahogany +color. + +"Not very pretty, is he?" Scotty whispered. + +That, Rick thought, was a masterpiece of understatement. He started to +tell Scotty that compared with Brad Marbek a Hereford bull was +downright winsome, but at that moment Cap'n Mike hailed the +_Albatross_. + +"Howdy, Brad. How's fish?" + +The skipper's reply was cordial enough. "Howdy, Cap'n Mike. Took +another good haul today. Just startin' to unload." Marbek's black eyes +surveyed the two boys briefly, then evidently dismissed them as of no +importance. "Come on aboard." + +"Thanks. We will." Cap'n Mike motioned to the two boys and led the way +up the gangplank just as a scoop full of menhaden rose from the hold +and passed overhead. + +On deck, the captain introduced the boys to Marbek. Rick found his +hand imprisoned in a horny mass that appeared to be controlled by +steel cables instead of tendons. He tried not to wince. + +"Best season I've seen in years," Marbek told Cap'n Mike. His voice +was ridiculously high and soft, out of keeping with his physique. + +"That's what everyone's saying," Cap'n Mike acknowledged. "Why, only +two days ago, I heard ..." + +Scotty nudged Rick with a sharp elbow. He was looking at the pier. +Rick turned and followed his pal's glance, then as he saw what Scotty +was looking at, he inhaled sharply. Carrots Kelso was leaning against +a pillar, watching them. + +"Wonder what's on his mind?" Rick asked. + +Brad Marbek saw the direction of their glance. "You kids know Jimmy? +He's my nephew." + +The pause before Cap'n Mike spoke was proof of his surprise. "You +don't say!" He changed the subject abruptly. "Say, Brad, I've been +meaning to ask you. Did you notice any peculiar current offshore last +night?" + +"Current? Can't say I did. Why?" + +"Bill Lake claims a strong current set him off course just as he +picked up Smugglers' Light, about the time Tom Tyler ran aground." + +Rick thought that Brad Marbek hesitated slightly and searched for the +right answer. + +"Now that you mention it, I did notice a little shift." A scoop +whirred out of the hold, crossed the pier, dumped its load and started +the return. "Let me know if you find out any more about it," Marbek +said. "Right now I guess I better attend to my unloadin'." + +"Sure, Brad," Cap'n Mike said. "We'll be getting on. By the way, +happen to know where Jim Killian is tied up?" + +"I think he's on the other side of the pier. Cross over and duck under +the belts. He should be right abeam of us." + +"Thanks. Let's go, boys." + +Cap'n Mike led the way down the gangplank with Rick and Scotty +following. Rick felt Brad Marbek's eyes on them. He had sensed +tension under the fisherman's surface cordiality, and he was +interested in the quick way Marbek had remembered the strange current +when Cap'n Mike quoted Bill Lake. + +At the foot of the gangplank, Cap'n Mike paused. "Let's find Jim. I'm +getting real curious about that current Bill mentioned. What say?" + +"We're right with you," Scotty replied. + +Rick watched the big scoop vanish into the _Albatross'_ hold, then +looked for Carrots Kelso. He was no longer in sight. "Wonder where +Carrots went to?" he said to Scotty. + +"Probably running to tell his father we're prowling around the pier." + +Cap'n Mike led the way into the pier shed. He turned to look over his +shoulder at the boys. "What'd you think of Marbek claiming young Kelso +as a nephew?" + +"Don't you think he really is?" Rick asked. He had to raise his voice +above the noise of the scoop as it lifted from the trawler's hold. + +"Surprise to me. I've known Marbek fifteen years and never heard of +any family. Why--" + +"Look out!" + +On the heels of Scotty's cry, Rick caught a glimpse of his pal hurling +Cap'n Mike headlong. He jumped forward, glancing up, just as the great +fish scoop opened over his head. He put all of his energy in a forward +leap to safety, but too late! + +Cascading thousands of menhaden crushed him violently to the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +Search for a Clue + + +As Rick fell to the floor, he twisted sideways and managed to bring up +one arm to protect his head. In an instant he was buried in a great, +heavy, slippery mass of fish. His nostrils filled with the oily +stench, and when he opened his mouth to breathe, he closed it again on +a fish tail. He spat it out, and then, furious, he struggled against +the slimy weight, got his hands and feet under him and heaved. Fish +cascaded from his arched back and he broke clear just as Scotty +reached for him. + +"You all right?" Scotty gasped. + +"Yes." + +Cap'n Mike, hurled clear by Scotty's rush, was getting to his feet. + +Scotty departed on a dead run. + +Rick collected his thoughts and yelled, "Hey! Wait! Where're you +going?" + +"After Kelso," Scotty called back over his shoulder. + +Rick didn't know what had happened, but evidently Scotty did and was +doing something about it. He ran after his friend, brushing off dirt +from his clothes as he did so. He heard Cap'n Mike call, "Wait for +me!" but he didn't pause. + +At the entrance to the pier, Rick caught up with Scotty who was +looking up and down the street, his face flushed with anger. + +"He's gone. No use looking for him because he could hide anywhere +around here. But we'll catch up with him one of these days, and when +we do ..." + +"What's it all about?" Rick demanded. + +"Carrots tripped that scoop on us. I don't know how, but I know he did +it." + +Cap'n Mike came up behind them in time to hear Scotty. "He's the one, +all right. There's an emergency trip on those scoops, set in the wall. +It's in case the operator loses control. Then the scoop can be dumped +without having all that weight smash against the end of the track and +break things. Young Kelso must have punched the trip." + +"He sure did." Rick sniffed angrily. "And I smell like ten days in a +bait pail. Scotty, we've got to get home and get out of these clothes. +I can't stand myself." + +"Check," Scotty replied. "Well, I guess that wraps up the +investigation for the night, Cap'n." + +Cap'n Mike nodded. "I want to be around when you boys meet up with +young Kelso. That was as fishy a trick as I ever saw pulled." + +Rick looked at the old sea captain suspiciously. Cap'n Mike was having +a hard time to keep from laughing. Then Rick had to grin himself. +"Don't laugh too loud," he reminded. "If Scotty hadn't pushed you, +you'd be smelling like a week-old herring yourself." + +"I know," Cap'n Mike said. "Thanks." He threw back his head and +roared. + +Rick laughed, too, but when Cap'n Mike doubled up with mirth, he began +to grow a little irritated. "It isn't that funny," he said, a little +tartly. + +Scotty chuckled. "Maybe this is what amuses him." He reached over and +plucked a small menhaden from the breast pocket of Rick's jacket. + +"Dangdest place to carry fresh fish I ever saw," Cap'n Mike said, and +went off into gales of laughter again. + +Rick took out his handkerchief and mopped his face. "Well," he said, +grinning, "I'm sure glad those menhaden weren't whales." + +They drove home to Whiteside with all windows wide open and newspapers +on the seat to protect the car, but even so, the stench of oily fish +made Rick feel a little queasy. + +"We can't go to Spindrift like this," he complained. "Tell you what, +I'll take the wood road that goes down by the tidal flats. Then one of +us can cross over, get clean clothes for both of us and some soap and +towels. We can go to Walton's Pond, take a swim, scrub off the fish, +and change." + +"Good idea," Scotty agreed. "But these coats and pants will have to be +dry cleaned." + +"That's easy. There's a night service door at the cleaners where we +can just push them through." + +Scotty chuckled. "You won't get any thanks for that. The whole dry +cleaning place will smell like a fish market before morning." + +"We'll wrap them up good in plenty of newspapers." + +"Where do we get the papers?" + +"From the _Morning Record_. I want to go there, anyway." + +Scotty gave him a sideways glance. "Got an idea?" + +"Just a glimmer." Rick's lips tightened. "And I'll tell you something +else. Until now, this case was just sort of interesting for itself, +but now I have a personal interest. I think the Kelsos are at the +bottom of it." + +"And we owe them a debt," Scotty finished. "Carrots, anyway. What do +you suppose he dumped the scoop on us for?" + +Rick shrugged. "Sheer poison meanness. And weren't we warned not to go +to Seaford?" + +An hour later, when they had cleaned up, the boys returned the car to +Gus, apologized for the faint but definite aroma of dead menhaden, and +walked to the _Morning Record_ office. + +Duke Barrows, a veteran newspaperman but young in years, greeted them +cordially. "Hello, Rick, Scotty. Here are those cards you asked for." +He swiveled his chair around and regarded them with interested eyes. +"Getting anywhere on that Seaford yarn?" + +"We're still feeling around," Rick replied. "But there's a good story +in it if we can find the lead." + +"Keep working then," Duke said. "I'll pay you space rates if it hits +page one." + +"How much is that?" Scotty wanted to know. + +"Twenty-five cents a column inch on this sheet. You didn't expect to +get rich, did you?" + +Rick returned Duke's grin. "If this story is as good as I think it is, +we'll just about get rich. You'll want to cover the whole front page +with it." + +"Can't be that good," Duke returned. + +Rick looked around the office. "Where's Jerry?" + +"In the composing room. He'll be back in a minute. Got anything on +your mind?" + +"Just an idea. Do you keep a file of New York papers?" + +"Over there. On the shelf. Help yourself." + +Rick nodded his thanks. "Let's go give my idea a try, Scotty." + +Scotty tucked his press card into his wallet. "I could probably help +if I knew what the idea was." + +Rick explained briefly. He wanted to check the shipping sections for +the dates when the _Albatross_ had been seen at Creek House. He +particularly wanted to know what ships had arrived at New York at noon +or before on those dates. He was interested in ships arriving from +southern ports in the Caribbean, or from southern Europe. That, he +figured, would give them only the ships that might have been standing +off Seaford in the early hours before dawn on the critical dates. He +had a vague idea that he might find some sort of similarity in the +ships that had been off Seaford on the critical dates. The registry +might be the same, or the ownership. + +But when the compilation was complete, there were no similarities at +all. In fact, so far as he could determine, no ship had been off +Seaford during the time he had chosen as having the best +possibilities. + +As they walked toward the Whiteside boat landing after saying good +night to Duke and Jerry, Rick rapidly reviewed all they knew about the +wreck of Tom Tyler's trawler and the events at Seaford. + +"I sure thought I had the connecting link," he said. "I still think +so, even if there wasn't any evidence in the papers. It's the only +answer that makes any sense." + +Scotty nodded. "Keep talking." + +"Okay. The Kelsos suddenly arrive at Seaford and move into Creek +House. Then the _Albatross_ starts making visits at a time when no +fisherman in his right mind would pay calls. So Brad Marbek must be +going to Creek House on his way back from the fishing grounds for a +good business reason. Right?" + +"It figures. Go ahead." + +"Tom Tyler spied on Creek House, and he found out something. Red Kelso +warned him, and Tyler refused to take the warning. Result: his ship +was wrecked. We don't know how yet, but we'll find out. Another thing: +Mrs. Tyler was frightened, and Tom Tyler is afraid to talk. What's +your guess on that?" + +Scotty kicked a pebble out of the path. "Kelso again. When Tyler +didn't take the first warning, his trawler was wrecked and he was told +that next time something would happen to his family. That's the only +threat they could make stick with a man like Tyler. If they threatened +him, he'd laugh at them. But if they threatened his wife and little +girl ..." + +"That's the way I see it, too. Now, what kind of business requires a +boat, a house on a secluded part of the beach, and a guard with a +rifle?" + +"Smuggling," Scotty said flatly. + +Smuggling. It was the answer that fitted. Rick didn't know yet what +kind of smuggling, but he intended to find out. "If you were the +Kelsos, and if you were bringing contraband into Creek House, how +would you get it out of Seaford?" he asked. + +Scotty thought it over. "Not trucks," he said. "Cap'n Mike said he +hadn't seen any trucks calling at Creek House. How about taking it +somewhere in a small boat?" + +In his mind's eye Rick saw the countryside surrounding Creek House as +he had seen it from the air. "Right up Salt Creek," he said excitedly. +"How about that? If they unloaded at the pier when the _Albatross_ +came in and then reloaded into a motor dory or some other kind of +small boat, they could take it right up Salt Creek to the bridge. Then +all they would need would be a truck waiting there. And if they did it +late at night, there wouldn't be any traffic to worry about." + +"That must be it!" Scotty exclaimed. Then he sobered. "But how are we +going to find out if that's the answer?" + +There was only one way. "I guess we're just going to have to see for +ourselves," Rick said. As they passed the dry cleaning establishment, +he took the bundle of newspaper-wrapped clothes he had been carrying +and dropped them into the night-service opening. A whiff of departed +menhaden smote his nose forcefully and he added grimly, "Believe me, +it'll be a pleasure!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +The Old Tower + + +Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unit +to his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. "I _should_ get a +picture," he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors. +He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only an +actual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the rather +slow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn't give enough +light 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 two +hundred. + +It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared was +light. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight would +cast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would be +able to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb. + +Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register the +reflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsion +had been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. The +motion-picture film had been made at his special order. It was not a +stock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon could +have measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment. +Rick wasn't skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic wave +analyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in the +library and couldn't be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance to +ask his father before he tested the camera. + +He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to do +some figuring. + +Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waited +expectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. "It's an out-of-town +call, for either one of you." + +"We'll take it up here, Mom," Rick called back. He and Scotty raced +for the landing. + +Scotty reached the phone first. "Hello?" He nodded at Rick. "It's +Cap'n Mike." + +Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with the +Seaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. + +Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we're +coming 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 it +was, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn't come down +this morning." + +"Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna." Rick grinned. "By the +way, 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 little +before he went and looked up the answer." + +Scotty had phoned at Rick's suggestion to find out from Jerry's +newspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence of +smuggling at Seaford. + +"He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either the +Coast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we had +something more than suspicion to go on." + +"A good idea," Rick agreed. "It wouldn't do to get the government all +steamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we'd be +laying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let's go see if +Mom 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 they +tied 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 old +captain 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 will +lose his license sure as shooting. And that's not all. He'll find +himself 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 out +his legs. "Let's hold a council of war. If we're going to do +anything, we'd better have a plan of action." He told Cap'n Mike of +their suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged in +smuggling and waited for the old man's reaction. + +Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. "Now! It could be that you +boys 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's +only worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tell +you many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escape +paying duty on them." + +"Suppose they _are_ smuggling," Rick pointed out. "How do we prove +it?" + +"Catch 'em red-handed," Scotty said. "Red-handed instead of +redheaded." + +Rick and Cap'n Mike groaned in unison. + +It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick had +given some thought to it before going to sleep. "There are a couple of +ways we might do that," he said. "First of all, we know they have to +get rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House until +it's moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in the +hotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night." + +"Not practical," Scotty objected. "Mom would object to our staying out +all night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer before +the 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 we +know when the _Albatross_ is going to visit the Kelsos?" + +"Cap'n Mike tells us. Cap'n, according to what you said when we were +here before, the _Albatross_ sometimes stays at Creek House until +almost midnight. That means that it takes them awhile to unload +whatever they're smuggling." + +Scotty had an objection. "If they were doing any unloading, wouldn't +you have seen them, Cap'n Mike?" + +The old seaman shook his head. "Nope. I didn't dare get close enough +to see what was going on. Besides, my eyes ain't what they were at +night. I just sat off the end of Salt Creek, letting the reeds hide +me, and saw what I could, which wasn't much. If I'd gone up the creek +any distance, they'd have spotted me against the sea." + +Rick finished, "So you see, if Cap'n Mike could keep an eye on the +creek, he'd know when the _Albatross_ arrived. If he phoned us right +away, we could be here within an hour, or even a half-hour, if we took +the fast boat." + +"Sounds sensible," Scotty admitted. "Any other plans?" + +"Just one, which isn't very practical. We could get someone to fly out +over the fleet during the most likely hours and wait for the +_Albatross_ to make contact with the supply ship. I wish we could fly +at night, but we can't. The contact has to be during the darkness, and +I think before dawn is the best time. If Brad Marbek made contact +after he got through fishing, some of the other trawlers might see +the ship coming. Then they might get curious and hang around to see +why Brad was hanging back. Maybe that's what Tom Tyler did." + +"But if he left and made contact before dawn, the others might think +nothing 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 the +same time. And Brad has been coming back as far as Salt Creek with the +rest. So I guess Rick guessed right." + +Cap'n Mike did some figuring. "Tell you what. I can sit on the beach +at the edge of town with a pair of night glasses. I'll borrow some. I +can 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 Drug +Store. We'll start tonight." + +Scotty got up and yawned. "That's settled. Now I'd like to look into +something. We can't overlook any possible lead. Rick, remember the +tower?" + +"Yes." Rick got to his feet, too. "And I remember something else. That +business about the shifting current and the light. Cap'n, have you +talked to Captain Killian?" + +"Not yet, but I surely will today. That may be worth something." He +walked with them toward the pier. "But what's this tower business?" + +Rick explained briefly. "We'll stop there on the way back to +Spindrift." + +"Phone us if Captain Killian has anything interesting to say," Scotty +requested. + +"I will. Now you boys be careful. Keep a weather eye out, and don't +forget those warnings." + +"We're not likely to," Rick assured him. + +As they sped past the Seaford water front toward Smugglers' Reef, Rick +plotted 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 they +would hurry from Spindrift by boat, since it would take too long to go +to Whiteside and try to get a car. The Cub was out; there was no place +to land at Seaford. + +The best way of finding a good hide-out from which to watch the Kelsos +would be to take a photograph from the air. He could do that this very +afternoon and develop it at home. An enlargement, which the photo lab +at 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 asked +Scotty. + +"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 until +later." + +"Guess that's right," Rick agreed. He swung the launch around the tip +of 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 the +trawler or on the reef. He put the launch close in shore at the sandy +strip near the Creek House fence, and Scotty jumped to the beach with +the anchor as before. + +Rick joined him on the sand. "Now for a look at the tower. Where did +you see the marks?" + +Scotty pointed to the rusted structure. There were four upright +girders slanting inward from the base to where the top platform had +been. Horizontal girders held the structure together one-third and +two-thirds of the way up. "The marks are on the first row of +cross-pieces," he said. "On this side." + +The steel climbing ladder was on the Seaford, or opposite side, of the +tower halfway between the uprights. Rick looked at it dubiously. "It's +pretty 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 the +lightest. I'd better do it." + +"You're not that much lighter," Scotty objected. "Tell you what, let's +flip 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 making +sure it wasn't tails on both sides, then handed it to Rick with a +grin. "Can you always call your shots like that?" + +"Only on Wednesdays." He gestured toward the high board fence that cut +them off from Creek House. "Look, just to be on the safe side, you +keep an eye open for the Kelsos. If you see them coming, give me a +yell. I don't think they'd dare try anything in broad daylight, but +you can never tell." + +"All right. I'll stick near the boat." + +As Scotty walked back to the launch, Rick went to the base of the +tower and looked up. The frame seemed secure enough in spite of the +rust. He jumped for the first rung of the ladder and hauled himself +up. In a moment he was on the horizontal girder. The scratches Scotty +had seen from the air were clearly visible. To reach them, he had to +work around the girders to the opposite side. He stood up and found +his balance, then walked easily to the corner girder, rounded it and +crossed 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. He +could look right into the windows of the second floor--except that the +windows were so dirty that he couldn't see much. Suddenly he froze. +One of the second-floor windows was being raised. He saw a vague +figure behind it, but it was dark in the room and he couldn't see +clearly. There was no reason to be disturbed about it, yet he felt a +quick wave of apprehension. He had better look over the scratches and +get out. + +Holding on to the corner girder, he crouched and leaned outward toward +the marks. There were two bright scratches about a foot apart. Between +them the entire rust surface had been disturbed. Something had rested +there, or, more likely, it had been clamped. He swung back a little to +look at the inner side of the girder and saw continuations of the +scratches that terminated in round spots. When he leaned forward to +look at the outer side, the marks were there, but so slight that they +wouldn't be noticeable unless one were looking for them. + +His brows creased. He couldn't think of anything that would make marks +just like those. He wished he had brought a camera. A photo would have +given them something to study later. + +Then, as he turned and started back, something whistled over his head +and slapped sharply into the upright girder. His first thought was +that 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 the +strength drained from his knees. A few inches over his head were +silvery splashes against the rusty surface, and they were the silvery +marks 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 the +inner edge and he rolled free on the opposite side. For an instant he +dangled in space, then he dropped, his knees flexing to take the shock +of landing. It wasn't much of a drop, a little over fourteen feet. And +as 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, both +of them were cut off from Creek House by the high board fence. But to +get clear they would have to come out of the fence shelter and into +the 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, "Stay +close to the reef and pick up speed. Get going." + +The launch was already in motion. Rick dropped into the seat next to +Scotty and his pal pushed the gas pedal all the way. The nose lifted +and the stern dug in. + +Rick turned to watch, and as the second floor of Creek House came +into view, he said, "Give it all you've got. Cut sharply across Salt +Creek and the rushes will cover us." + +"Hang on!" Scotty snapped. He threw the wheel hard over and the launch +rocked up like a banking plane, then he leveled off and the boat shot +across 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 to +dill 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 to +get my hands on that little playmate. Did he miss you by much?" + +"About six inches. Both shots hit the same place, within an inch of +each other." + +Scotty frowned thoughtfully. "Then my guess is that he wasn't trying +to hit you. If he's good enough to place two shots like that, he +wouldn'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, what +about reporting this to the police?" + +Scotty shook his head. "No proof. No witnesses. It would be your word +against his, because he could claim he was just target practicing and +that you weren't on the tower when he fired. He could even claim he +didn't fire the shots, because the slugs would be so spattered that +the 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 us +hightailing out of there like a couple of frightened jack rabbits." + +"It would have been stupid to stay and get shot at," Scotty pointed +out. "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're +going back and build a fire under Mister Carrots. Wait and see!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Night Watch + + +Less than a half-hour after arriving at Spindrift, Rick and Scotty +were back at Smugglers' Reef. But this time they were in the Cub. With +Scotty operating Rick's speed graphic camera, they took several photos +of Creek House, Salt Creek, and Brendan's Marsh from varying +altitudes. Then Rick swung in a wide circle, losing altitude, and +leveled off only a hundred feet over the marsh. He was headed straight +for Creek House. + +Scotty paused in putting the camera in its case and looked at him. + +Rick winked. "Going to see if the Kelsos are home." + +The Cub flashed across Salt Creek and Rick pulled the control wheel +back into his lap. The small plane shot upward in a zoom that just +cleared the hotel, then at the top of the zoom Rick did a fast wing +over and started back. + +"I know you can fly," Scotty said calmly, "but don't try to roll your +wheels on the roof." + +Rick shot across the hotel within five feet of the chimney and dropped +so low that his prop wash flattened the reeds in the marsh. Then, +climbing again, he swung wide and went over Seaford at a legal +altitude. He was, even the critical Gus admitted, a safe-and-sane +flier, but the temptation to get back at Carrots Kelso a little was +too much. High over the town, he turned to Scotty. "I didn't see +anyone. Now, if you were in the house and a crazy pilot buzzed you +twice, what would you do?" + +"Run out and look," Scotty said promptly. + +"Uhuh." Rick was enjoying himself. Whether his scheme worked or not, +he liked it. "And if the plane was out of sight, what would you do +then?" + +"I'd go far away from the house, so it wouldn't block my view, and +look for it." + +"The farthest you can get away from Creek House, without running into +the fence, is at the end of the pier." + +Scotty broke into laughter. "I hope I never have you for an enemy. +What'll you bet Carrots doesn't go to the end of the pier?" + +"No bets. But I'm hoping." + +Rick turned inland. When he was out of sight of the town, he lost +altitude in a tight spiral over Salt Creek. At five hundred feet, he +banked around and followed the creek, his throttle wide open. As the +Cub flashed over Salt Creek Bridge, he put the plane in a shallow +dive. Creek House loomed and he let out a yell of triumph. + +Carrots Kelso was standing on the end of the pier, looking at the sky! + +Rick pointed the nose of the Cub directly at him and held it there. He +saw Carrots turn at the noise of the plane, saw his mouth open to +yell and his eyes pop. Rick hauled the stick back into his lap and +kicked left rudder. As the Cub spun around he banged Scotty with his +free hand and chortled with glee. + +Carrots, afraid for his life, had gone headlong into the creek. + +"That pays him back for shooting at you," Scotty said with +satisfaction. "Bet he was more scared than you were. But we still owe +him for those fish." + + * * * * * + +Two of the photos proved excellent for their purposes. Scotty, who had +taken an interest in developing and printing, made a 10 by 14-inch +enlargement of each. They spent most of Thursday studying them, +talking over their various clues endlessly, and waiting for Cap'n +Mike's call. Shortly after supper on Thursday night he did call, but +only to say he had nothing to report and that he hadn't been able to +talk to Jim Killian. The fisherman was taking a few days off to visit +his mother in Pennsylvania. + +"A fine time for him to go vacationing," Rick said, "when he might be +able to supply some essential information. I've got an idea, Cap'n," +he added. "Can you find out what source the automatic light uses for +electricity? See if it has its own power plant or whether there's a +cable that runs along the reef. If there is, see if there's a junction +box or a switch or anything." + +Cap'n Mike promised to have the information next time he called. + +They were too restless to sit still and read. Rick had thought about +asking his father to help him check the infrared spotlight in the lab, +but Hartson Brant was preoccupied with a scientific analysis problem, +so Rick decided to check his new invention by actual use. + +Dismal was the subject. The boys took him for a walk to the backside +of the island where there was no light at all except for dim +moonlight. Scotty carried the power supply on a strap over his +shoulder while Rick carried the camera and its attachments. The thing +was uncanny, even when its operation was understood. To the naked eye, +Dismal was just a vague blur under the trees. But with the infrared +searchlight on him, Rick could see him through the telescope as though +it were white light. He shot a few feet of film, then took it to the +photo lab. He could develop short lengths by dipping them into bottles +of solution, although full lengths would have to go to a New York lab +for processing. + +Projecting the test length cleared up his questions. The camera worked +beautifully at distances up to three hundred yards. Beyond that, +although things still could be seen, the lighting was poor and +definition hazy. + +He spent more time in the darkroom winding the infrared film on +hundred-foot rolls and placing them in light-tight cans, then he +reloaded the camera with a full spool. That done, there was nothing to +do but wait and try to read. + +On Friday night, Scotty glanced up from the leather chair in Rick's +room. "What time is it?" + +Rick was lying on the bed, studying the ceiling and working on the +problem of the tower scratches and the shifting current. He looked at +his watch. "Ten of nine. Why?" + +"Almost time for the trawlers to be getting back to Seaford." + +"As though I didn't know it! Unless we get a call within the next +half-hour, we might as well forget it for tonight, too." + +Scotty went back to his book. Rick resumed staring at the ceiling. It +had occurred to him that there was an old wrecker's trick, well used +in the days of sailing ships. The trick was to extinguish a navigation +light so ships would run aground and be easy prey for the wreckers. +And sometimes the wreckers helped out by raising false lights. Now if +the automatic light at the tip of the reef could be cut off, and if a +false light were raised on the old tower . . . they just had to talk +with Captain Killian! Bill Lake thought a shift of current and a patch +of mist had been responsible for him losing the light and putting him +off course. But what if Smugglers' Light had been cut off and a false +light lighted on the old tower? + +Rick snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" + +Scotty looked up. "Got what?" + +Just then the phone rang. + +The boys almost fell over each other in their haste. Rick got to it +first and said a breathless hello. + +"Cap'n Mike speaking. Rick?" + +"Yes!" + +"Brad just turned up Salt Creek. I'll be in my shack waiting to hear +about it, boy. And say, the automatic light works by a cable. Cable +comes down the pole in front of the Creek House fence and goes into a +metal box. From there it goes underground to the light." + +"Thanks a million," Rick said exultantly. "We'll see you sometime +tonight, Cap'n." He hung up and turned to Scotty. "Let's go!" + +They ran down the stairs and almost barged into Mrs. Brant. "Got to +hurry, Mom." + +"Where to, Rick?" + +"Seaford," he said. "We'll take the boat. Don't worry, I don't think +we'll be out too late." + +Mrs. Brant's eyes were troubled. The boys had told the Brants +something about events at Seaford. "Be careful, you two," she said. + +"We will," Scotty assured her. + +They had every intention of being extremely careful. Hartson Brant, +who had been on expeditions with the boys, had every confidence in +their ability to look out for themselves. But Mrs. Brant, like all +mothers, had some reservations. + +As they ran down the stairs to the landing, Scotty asked, "What was it +you said you had just before the phone rang?" + +"Tell you when we get underway," Rick returned, and as they sped +through the water at over thirty miles an hour toward Seaford, he did +so. + +"I think I know how the _Sea Belle_ was wrecked. But if I'm right, the +Kelsos were taking a terrific chance." + +"They're the kind who take chances." Scotty peered through the +windshield at the dark sea. Behind them, their wake was white and +turbulent. + +"Well, here's how I figure. The Kelsos knew there was no sea traffic +off Smugglers' Reef except for the Seaford fleet, because the coastal +traffic moves pretty far offshore. They also knew that no one goes +down the old road past the hotels at night because there's nothing +there. And anyway, if a car came, they could see its lights." + +Rick paused. "There's a hole in this theory. In fact, there are a +couple of them. I'm guessing that Tom Tyler was the first skipper to +get into port a good percentage of the time. If he was, and if they +knew it, they could arrange with Brad Marbek to stick close behind him +and give them some sort of signal. If they had glasses on the ships, +they could see even a flashlight, couldn't they?" + +"I suppose so." + +"And if they were at the very top of Creek House, in the attic room, +they could see the lights of the ships coming in before the ships saw +Smugglers' Light!" + +"What are you driving at?" Scotty demanded. + +"Smugglers' Light is small. It's strictly for local navigation. Now +suppose one of them was in the attic with glasses, waiting for the +ships. Tom Tyler comes over the horizon first, Brad Marbek right +behind him. Brad makes a signal. Maybe he blinks his masthead light. +By that, they know the next ships are pretty far behind and Tom Tyler +is in front. The man in the attic signals. They turn off Smugglers' +Light from the junction box in front of the hotel and light up their +own light on the crossbeam of the old tower. When Captain Tyler comes +over the horizon far enough to see the light, what he sees is the +Kelsos' light. But he doesn't know that. He gives it leeway as usual; +he's used to passing it close because there's plenty of water. Then, +when he's within a short distance of it, the light goes off. He keeps +on course, thinking something has happened to the light, and piles on +the reef." + +"And as he piles up, the real light is put back on!" Scotty +exclaimed. + +"Yes," Rick said excitedly. "And the man with the light in the tower +just removes it, gets down, and runs for Creek House before the men on +the _Sea Belle_ have even picked themselves up!" + +"It makes sense," Scotty agreed. "And how! Of course Tom Tyler knows +he's been tricked the minute he hits, and he knows why. So does Brad +Marbek, but he's in on it. Bill Lake, who's pretty far behind, thinks +the shift in the light is due to a patch of mist and a strong current. +But how about Captain Killian? He was closer to the light." + +"That's why it's important to get his story," Rick said. His eyes had +been scanning the dark coast line ceaselessly. Now, picking up the +start of Brendan's Marsh, he turned the wheel and swung out to sea. + +Their study of the photographs had convinced them that the best way to +approach Creek House was from the rear. To do that, they had to pass +far enough out at sea so their engine noise would not be too +noticeable and attract the attention of the Kelsos. Rick took a quick +look around and saw no other boat lights. He leaned forward and +snapped off their own. + +In a few moments they saw the lights of Creek House and Smugglers' +Light. When they were well past it, Rick turned inshore, throttled +down to make as little noise as possible. There was a short dock in +front of the abandoned Sandy Shores Hotel. He gauged distance +carefully in the dim light and let his momentum carry him to it. +Scotty jumped out and made the bow fast while Rick cut the engine +completely and hurried to secure the stern. In a moment they were on +the dock together looking toward the Creek House. + +"Let's go," Rick whispered. + +They made their way as noiselessly as possible behind the old hotel, +then picked a careful path through accumulated junk past the rears of +the Sea Girt, the Atlantic View, and the Shore Mansions. Twice they +had to climb rusted fences and Rick was grateful that they had put on +old clothes. Presently they were against the Creek House fence. + +He touched Scotty's arm and gestured. Then he led the way toward the +place where the fence stopped at the marsh. They had planned the +adventure up to the end of the fence. After that they would have to +take advantage of whatever offered. + +They hadn't seen in the photograph that the fence extended into the +marsh for a short distance. Rick's first inkling of the fact came when +one foot sank into muck above the shoe top. He let out a soft +exclamation, and when he pulled the foot free it made a sighing sound. + +The boys held a whispered consultation and decided there was nothing +for it but to continue. Rick stepped forward, searching with his foot +for firmer ground. Now and then he found a hummock, but there were +times when he sank to the knee in clinging goo. Fortunately, there +were only a few feet of swamp to navigate. + +He reached the end of the fence and stopped, peering around it. + +There were lights on the pier, and the _Albatross_ was tied up to it, +but the lights were too dim to illuminate anything over a few yards +away. He crouched and moved over a little, making room for Scotty. +Together they surveyed the terrain. + +"We can't see much from here," Scotty said, lips against Rick's ear. +"We'll have to get closer." + +Rick nodded. He motioned along the fence, indicating that they should +follow it, then he took the lead again. In a dozen muddy steps they +were out of the marshland and on dry ground again, but Rick had to +exercise utmost care because there was a litter of dry junk that +crackled underfoot. He picked his way carefully, hardly daring to +breathe loudly. + +Once he froze and felt Scotty tense behind him. Brad Marbek and Red +Kelso walked from the hotel to the pier and stood looking upstream. +Their backs were to the boys. Rick started moving again. There were no +lights in the hotel on the fence side. He wanted to reach the safe +darkness of that area before planning their next move. As he went, he +wondered where Carrots was, and what had happened to Brad's crew. + +They reached the dark space between the hotel and the fence without +incident and Rick straightened up with a little breath of relief. Now +what? He reviewed the photograph of the hotel grounds in his mind. + +Scotty tugged his sleeve and pointed. Rick looked up and saw that a +window was open on the first floor. The room behind it was dark. For a +second he was tempted, then he shook his head. Going into the hotel +was dangerous, even though they probably could make their way to an +upper floor and have an unobstructed view from a window. If they were +trapped inside ... he didn't like the thought. At least their retreat +was open while they were out of doors. The top of the fence was within +reach if they jumped. They could swing over it and run. Once outside +the fence, the Kelsos would have a hard time catching up with them. + +He remembered that the front of the hotel and part of the area on the +creek side contained shrubs, relics of its original landscaping. The +shrubs would give them cover. He touched Scotty and motioned. Then he +started around the front of the hotel, crossing the driveway, which +led into the grounds through a gate, closed now and looking like part +of the fence. + +The front of the hotel was dark. Swiftly he went past the porch, +moving through the shrubbery with extreme caution. He gained the +corner nearest the creek safely, Scotty behind him. When he peered +around, he had a good view of the dock. Red Kelso and Brad Marbek were +still talking. No one else was in sight. Somewhere inside, a door +banged. Rick stiffened. That must be Carrots, or one of the crew. + +He moved forward, spotting a hedge that had marked the edge of the +garden. If they crouched behind that, they would have an unobstructed +view. He dodged a shrub and reached the hedge; it was just waist-high. +He sank to his knees and parted the twigs, searching for a good view +through them. Beside him, Scotty knelt and did the same. + +He put his mouth close to Scotty's ear. "This is a good place," he +whispered. + +"It's a fine place," a loud voice said. "Get up, both of you!" + +Rick whirled, his heart stopping. He looked straight across the front +sight of a rifle into the grinning face of Carrots Kelso! + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Captured + + +"I figured it was time for another look around," Carrots said, "so I +came out the side door and went around the back and up the side by the +fence, then crossed over by the front. And just as I got to the +corner, who did I see but our two wise-guy pals!" He poked the rifle +in Rick's back by way of emphasis. + +Red Kelso and Brad Marbek looked at the two boys and then at each +other. Marbek looked up the creek nervously. "Better get 'em inside +under cover," he said in his high voice. "Jimmy, take 'em into the +cabin." + +Rick was seething inwardly, but he gave no sign. He was angry with +himself. He should have known that there would be a guard. + +He walked down the pier, Scotty at his side, the others following. At +Carrots' direction he climbed over the side of the trawler and went +into the small cabin aft of the wheelhouse. + +Red Kelso gestured toward a built-in bunk. "Sit down, both of you." He +went to the single window and slid the curtains shut. + +Carrots took up a position in the corner from which he could cover the +two boys. Brad Marbek pushed into the cabin and closed the door behind +him. For a dozen heartbeats there was silence. + +Red Kelso broke it. "What now?" he asked heavily. "We've got 'em. What +do we do with 'em?" + +Rick spoke up with much more boldness than he felt. "Nothing. Half a +dozen people know we came here." + +Marbek and Kelso exchanged glances. + +"We can't just let 'em go," Carrots said. His glance at Rick was +vindictive. "This is the smart joker that dove at me in his airplane. +I owe him somethin' for that." + +"Be quiet, Jimmy," Red Kelso said. "We've got to think about this." + +There was a hail from outside. Marbek started. "Red! Come outside. +Jimmy, watch these two." + +Carrots lifted the rifle a little. The two older men went out and +closed the door. Rick, listening carefully, thought he could hear +oars. + +Scotty spoke up. "You're a good shot with that thing, Rick says. You +put two shots right together over his head." + +"I should have picked him off," Carrots snarled. "I ought to put a +shot in his head right now for makin' me jump off the dock." + +"That evened us up," Rick said quietly. "You dumped the fish on us." + +Carrots grinned his satisfaction. "You're tootin' I did! And that +ain't all I'm goin' to do to you, either." + +"Don't be too sure," Scotty said. + +Carrots' thin lips tightened. "You got warned. Twice. What happens to +you is on your own head." + +The door banged open and Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came in again. For +some reason they seemed in better spirits. Marbek was grinning. + +Kelso stood before the two boys, his seaweed-green eyes surveying them +coldly. "All right. Talk. What did you want in here?" + +Rick and Scotty remained quiet. + +"Don't make me beat it out of you," Kelso warned. + +Rick thought quickly. He jerked his thumb at Carrots. "You can blame +him. First he dumped half a ton of menhaden on us and then he took a +shot at me while I was climbing the old tower." + +"Why were you climbin' the tower?" Marbek demanded quickly. + +Rick shrugged, nonchalantly, he hoped. "Why does anyone climb a tower? +Just for the fun of it." + +Carrots snorted. "Nuts! Then why didn't you go all the way to the +top?" + +Red Kelso's eyes swiveled from his son to the boys. "Let's cut the +comedy," he snapped. "Jimmy had nothin' to do with your comin' here. +Now give us a straight story or you'll suffer for it!" + +Rick's mind was working at top speed. He couldn't tell them +everything, but he might be able to stall. + +"You warned us," he said. "Twice. Anyway, we thought it was you, then +your son just admitted it." He grinned at Kelso. "We had to find out +why you were warning us, didn't we?" + +Red looked at Carrots and then at Brad. "I told you it was a mistake +to try to warn 'em off," he grated. "All right. Did you find out why +we warned you?" + +"We didn't have time," Scotty pointed out. "We had just arrived when +we got caught." + +Brad Marbek's high voice was cold. "Do you think my coming here is +funny?" + +Scotty's reply was equally cold. "You're not trying to kid anyone that +you tie up at this pier before unloading your fish just because you +want to be sociable, are you?" + +Marbek took a step forward. Red Kelso's hand on his shoulder +restrained him. Rick held his breath, wondering if Scotty had said too +much. + +"Okay, you snoopers," Red said. "You're goin' to take a nice long look +around, see? You're goin' to do exactly what we say, and you're goin' +to find out for yourselves just what's goin' on here. Now how do you +like that?" + +"Fine," Rick said feebly. There didn't seem to be anything else to +say. + +"Start at the house," Brad growled. "Get goin'." + +On deck, Rick took a quick look around. Nothing had changed, nor was +anyone in sight. With Carrots' rifle at their backs, he and Scotty +marched to the side door of the hotel. Inside Red Kelso pointed at +another door. "Open it and go downstairs. Step on it, we haven't all +night." + +Rick caught his breath. Why were they forcing them into the cellar? A +little fearfully, he went down the stairs as Red snapped on lights. + +At the bottom of the steps, the three faced them. "Start lookin'," +Brad commanded. "Go on. Stick your noses in every corner. Get busy!" +He gave Scotty a shove that sent him staggering in the direction of +the coal cellars. Then Red Kelso gave Rick a hard push that landed him +on his knees. + +The boy stood up again and looked around him uncertainly. "What do you +want us to do?" + +"Look," Red snapped. "That's what you came for. Look in every blasted +corner until you're satisfied there's nothin' more to look for. Now +get goin'!" + +And Rick and Scotty looked. Even though they knew now nothing would be +found in the old house, they had no choice. With the three hovering +over them they searched in corners, under stairs, in bins. They +sounded walls and rapped floors. As they passed through the kitchen, +four men were playing cards, evidently members of Brad's crew. They +inspected the butler's pantry and even the refrigerator, then they +were pushed on through the other first-floor rooms and up the stairs. + +Rick was tired of the whole affair, but every time he hesitated, Brad +or Red gave him a headlong shove that kept him moving, and always +Carrots was behind with the rifle. When there were no bulbs in the +rooms a flashlight Red produced provided illumination. Room by +tiresome room they worked their way to the attic. + +From the attic they were run down the stairs again and out into the +grounds and forced to cover every inch of land. Then they were taken +to the garage-boathouse and made to work their way through what had +been the servants' quarters. Downstairs, they inspected the only car, +and Rick automatically made a mental note of the make and the New York +license number. Then they looked under the seats and into the rope +locker of a motor whaleboat that was the only craft in the boathouse, +and they were forced to crawl under the boathouse where it rested on +piles. + +"Now," Brad Marbek said grimly, "let's take a look at the trawler." + +"Do we have to?" Scotty said wearily. "We know you wouldn't make us +look if there was anything to be seen." + +Brad's big hand landed in the middle of his back, smashing him toward +the dock. "March!" he commanded. + +The tiresome routine started again. Through wheelhouse and cabin and +galley and enginehouse and rope and gear lockers they hunted, picking +up accumulated layers of dirt and grease on the way, until finally +only the huge fish holds were left. + +Rick looked into the forward one and thought, "Oh, no!" He started to +protest, but Brad's open hand caught him on the side of the face. +"Dig!" the skipper commanded. "You asked for it. Dig!" + +And dig they did, through tons of stinking menhaden and cold ice until +they choked and their mouths felt full of scales. Once or twice they +protested, but there was always big Brad Marbek ready to strike out +and Carrots and Red Kelso backing him up. + +An eternity later they clawed their way up the pile of fish in the +last hold. + +Rick took a deep breath of clean air. "Anything else?" he asked. + +Carrots stepped forward. "You poor jokers got dirty," he said with +false concern. "You need a bath." He pointed to the end of the dock. +"Go on, jump in." His rifle lifted menacingly. + +That, at least, was no hardship. Rick walked to the end of the dock +and dropped into the water, savoring is cool cleanliness. Scotty was +right beside him. + +Overhead, the three waited, and Carrots' rifle was still on them. +"Back to the bank," he commanded. + +Rick and Scotty swam, clambered up on shore, and stood waiting. + +"Hike." + +They were herded like two sheep to the front gate. Red Kelso produced +a key and the gate swung open. + +"You had your look," he said. "You came to spy and we helped you out. +Now you know there's nothin' wrong here. We warned you because we +didn't like you, see? And that's all. Now get goin' and don't ever +come back, or we'll work you over so you'll never be the same again. +Now git!" + +They were shoved violently forward and landed sprawling on the hard +macadam road. Behind them the gate slammed shut, and as they got to +their feet and looked at each other ruefully, the sound of Carrots' +raucous laughter was like salt on raw flesh. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The Hearing + + +"You two have certainly got your nerve, going back to Seaford after +that," Jerry Webster said. + +"We'll stay away from the Kelsos and Brad Marbek. Don't worry about +that," Rick assured him. "But we're not giving up, are we, Scotty?" + +"Not on your life," Scotty replied flatly. + +Jerry's car bounced over Salt Creek Bridge and sped toward the Seaford +turnoff. The boys had phoned him early in the morning and found that +he had learned about Tom Tyler's hearing during his routine phone +calls to the Seaford authorities, and that he was going down to cover +it. + +They had met him at the Whiteside dock, and on the way down had +brought him up to date on their part of the case, including their +humiliating experience of the night before. + +"So your theory about smuggling must be wrong," Jerry said. +"Otherwise, you'd have found something." + +"I'm not convinced," Rick argued. "It's still the only answer that +fits." + +"Then where were the smuggled goods?" + +"We could have gotten there too late," Scotty reminded. "If it was a +small shipment, it could have been unloaded and disposed of before we +showed up." + +"Disposed of? How?" Jerry wanted to know. + +Rick recalled that he had heard the sound of oars while in the cabin. +Red and Brad had rushed out right away, too, after hearing a hail. +"They might have taken the stuff up the creek," he mused. "They might +even have had a truck waiting at the bridge. There's not much traffic, +so it wouldn't be too great a risk. And even if a car came, they could +pretend the truck was changing a tire or something until it passed." + +"That's reasonable," Jerry admitted. "Did you talk it over with Cap'n +Mike?" + +Rick grinned ruefully at the memory of the two soaked, bedraggled, +filthy specimens who had knocked on Cap'n Mike's door last night. "We +were in no mood even to think about it," he said. "But we did find out +one thing. Cap'n Mike said it would be easy for anyone to disconnect +Smugglers' Light and then reconnect it. All he would need would be an +insulated screw driver." + +"And that's not all," Scotty added. "He said Tom Tyler was first one +back from the fishing grounds eight times out of ten because the _Sea +Belle_ was the fastest boat in the fleet and the best handled." + +The more Rick thought about it, the more he was convinced that his +theory of the wrecking of the trawler would hold water. Cap'n Mike had +plugged up another hole, too. Rick had wondered about the backside of +the light. He had noticed that there was a red sector on the +townside, a common method of construction on lights of that sort. On +Cap'n Mike's chart, shaded areas showed how the light worked. It was +visible from the seaside in an arc of 180 degrees. It was dark in the +quadrant toward the marsh and red in the quadrant toward the town. But +warehouses and pier sheds blocked off the light from almost all of the +town except Million Dollar Row, and since the red portion would be out +for only a short time, it was long odds against anyone noticing it or +investigating if they did. + +"It's pretty sound," Rick said. "Only I wonder if we'll ever prove +it?" + +"Not in time for this morning's hearing, that's for sure," Scotty +commented. "Maybe Captain Killian will have something to say. If he +ever gets back." + +Cap'n Mike had tried unsuccessfully last night to see Jim Killian. He +was still visiting his mother. + +Jerry's car rolled down the main street of Seaford toward the town +hall. Rick could see that an unusual number of cars was lined up along +the curbs. The hearing was attracting a great deal of interest, as +could have been expected. He wondered if the Kelsos would be there. + +Jerry pulled into a convenient parking space. As they got out, he +asked Rick, "Got your camera?" + +Rick held it up. "We've got our press cards, too. That makes us legal +spectators for a change." + +"For a change is right," Scotty said. "Lead the way, Jerry." + +The hearing room was on the second floor. Jerry pushed his way through +the crowd in the corridor with Rick and Scotty following, and found +the entrance. A police officer stopped them at the door, then +permitted them to enter when they showed their press cards. Rick +wondered if the hearing would be closed to the public, but when he got +inside he saw that every seat was taken. He recognized a face here and +there, including that of Bill Lake. The others he recognized were +fishermen he had seen during their trip to the pier with Cap'n Mike. +Evidently some of them were taking the day off because of the hearing. + +The room was actually a small courtroom. Like most courtrooms, it had +a low fence dividing the spectators from the participants. At a table +inside the fence, Tom Tyler was seated with four other men. Rick +guessed from their appearance that they must be the members of his +crew. One had an arm in a sling and he remembered Cap'n Mike had said +the wreck had caused one broken arm. + +Jerry spoke to a man who seemed to be someone of authority, and they +were directed to seats in the front row. Across the aisle Rick saw +Mrs. Tyler and the little girl who had been with her on that first +night. The captain's wife looked pale, but she seemed composed. Then +he switched his glance to the captain himself. + +Tom Tyler seemed thinner in the few days since the wreck of his ship. +He stared at the table before him, seemingly oblivious to the murmur +of voices in the room. Rick felt compassion for him. If the theory +proved correct, Tom Tyler was the victim of unscrupulous men who had +wrecked his ship deliberately, just to remove danger from their path. + +He speculated about what might have caused the actual decision to +wreck the _Sea Belle_. There was only one sensible conclusion. +Captain Tyler must have used the trawler to spy on Brad Marbek. +Wrecking the ship would serve a double purpose: it would remove the +possibility of further spying on Brad and it would warn Tyler that the +smugglers meant business. After that, simply telling him that his +family would suffer if he kept on would strike home. Until the wreck, +he probably had been inclined to treat Kelso's warning lightly. + +A door to the left of the judge's rostrum opened and three men came +out. One was a Coast Guard commander. The other two were civilians. A +whisper from Jerry informed Rick that they were officers of the United +States Maritime Commission. + +Rick turned to see if the Kelsos or Brad Marbek were in the room. He +was curious about Cap'n Mike, too. While he was searching the rows of +faces, the procedure started. A clerk got up and announced something +about the hearing being held before the duly authorized board of +inquiry in the case of the wrecking on Smugglers' Reef of the motor +vessel _Sea Belle_, of so many tons, and such and such a registry +number, Thomas Lee Tyler, master, holding licenses numbers so and so. +Jerry nudged Rick and pointed to the camera. Rick nodded and inserted +a flash bulb. He caught the clerk's eye and held up the camera. The +clerk frowned, then motioned him to come inside the rail. Rick did so +and snapped a picture of the tribunal. Then he turned and got a photo +of Tom Tyler and the men at his table, with the audience in the +background. He looked at Jerry. The young reporter nodded, indicating +that two pictures would be enough. + +Rick resumed his seat. + +The middle man on the platform leaned over and asked, "Who is +representing Captain Tyler?" + +Tom Tyler stood up. "No one, sir." + +A murmur ran through the courtroom. + +"Captain," the man asked, "do you mean you have come into this hearing +without counsel?" + +"Sir, I'm pleading guilty to whatever the charge is. I don't need a +lawyer for that." Tyler sat down again. + +There was whispered consultation among the three on the bench. Then +the spokesman leaned forward again. + +"Captain, as I understand the facts presented by the officers who +investigated, if you plead guilty you will, in effect, state that you +deliberately wrecked your ship. If you so state, your insurance +company will have no recourse but to ask your arrest on a charge of +barratry. Do you understand that?" + +Tyler's shoulders straightened. "If that's the way it is, sir, I guess +that's the way it is. I'm pleading guilty." + +The murmur in the court rose. + +Rick leaned over to Jerry. "He's scared stiff. He must be, to take +this lying down." + +But if the Kelsos had threatened Mrs. Tyler and their little girl, +there wasn't much else he could do. Wrecking the trawler had shown him +they were capable of carrying out any threat. Rick was glad he had had +presence of mind the night before to say that other people knew he and +Scotty were going to Creek House. He was sure that had the Kelsos and +Brad thought that no one else knew, their fate would have been much +different. + +A hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up into the face of the officer +who had been at the door. + +"You Rick Brant?" + +He nodded. + +"Cap'n Mike is outside. Says it's urgent. He wants you and Don Scott." + +"We'll come right away," Rick said. He leaned over and explained to +Jerry. "We'll meet you outside. Come on, Scotty." + +As quietly as possible he and Scotty left the room just as the +spokesman for the board declared that the hearing would proceed. + +Cap'n Mike was on the steps in front of the town hall. His weathered +face lit up at the sight of the boys and he greeted them with a note +of worry in his voice. "Come on down to the sidewalk out of earshot of +these folks," he said in a low tone. + +They followed him to a place where the crowd thinned out, then Rick +asked, "What's the matter, Cap'n? Anything important come up?" + +"Important? I'll say it's important!" Cap'n Mike leaned forward. "Jim +Killian has disappeared!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The Missing Fisherman + + +Captain Jim Killian, the fisherman who had been closest to Brad Marbek +and Tom Tyler, and who might have been able to say finally whether +Rick's theory was true or not, was missing! + +"Cap'n, are you sure?" Rick asked. + +Cap'n Mike nodded soberly. "Sure as I can be. That's why I had to talk +to you boys." + +"When did you discover he had disappeared?" Scotty queried. "You said +he had been visiting his mother." + +"That's just it. Took me all this time to remember." Cap'n Mike shook +his white head. "Reckon I'm getting old. His mate said he'd gone to +visit his mother, so I thought no more about it. Until this morning. +Then I remembered. Jim Killian never knew his mother. He was brought +up by an uncle and aunt, both of them dead ten years now. Struck me +all of a sudden. It had sort of been nagging at the back of my head +that something was fishy about that mate's story anyway, so this +morning I went to his house and I collared him." + +"Did you get anything out of him?" Rick asked eagerly. + +"Not much. Jim Killian showed up at his trawler the morning after Tom +Tyler wrecked the _Sea Belle_. He just told the mate to shove off +without him, and said if anyone asked, he was visiting his mother, who +was sick. And I'm sure that's all the mate knows, except that he knew +Jim Killian didn't have a mother." + +Rick pursed his lips thoughtfully. "He showed up himself? Then he must +have left of his own free will. At least he wasn't kidnapped. But why +would he run away?" + +His eyes met Scotty's and he knew his pal was thinking the same thing. + +"He was threatened," Scotty said. + +"Looks like it. Suppose he had let a word drop that night about +something being a little off the beam about Smugglers' Light?" It +sounded reasonable to Rick. "The Kelsos would have paid him a visit +for sure." + +Cap'n Mike wagged his head sadly. "I sure pinned a lot of hope on Jim +Killian. After you explained what might have happened to Tom, I was +sure Jim might have something real useful to add. But it looks mighty +bad now." + +"Mighty bad," Rick agreed. Their effort to catch the Kelsos red-handed +had boomeranged on them and now what might be proof of their theory +had vanished. + +"We'd better find him," Scotty said. + +"How?" Cap'n Mike asked hopelessly. "We can't go to the police, 'cause +Jim went off of his own will, which he has a perfect right to do." + +For a moment Rick was about to suggest that they could have the +police hunt him as a material witness, then he rejected the idea. +Witness to what? Tom Tyler had admitted running the _Sea Belle_ on the +reef purposely, or next thing to it. No, the only solution was to find +Captain Killian. But where to begin? + +"Put yourself in his place," he suggested to Cap'n Mike. "You've known +him a long time. If you were hiding out, where would you go?" + +"I've thought about it," the old seaman said. "Don't do no good. This +is the first time Jim Killian has left town in twenty years, except to +go into Newark or New York for a day's shopping." + +"Where did he live?" Scotty asked. + +"Little Cape Cod cottage over near Tom Tyler. Lived by himself." + +"We might start there," Rick said. + +"Good a place as any," Cap'n Mike agreed. "Let's get going." + +Rick shook his head. "We have to wait for Jerry. Let's sit in the car. +I don't think the hearing will last very long. Tom Tyler is pleading +guilty." + +They walked to Jerry's car and settled down to wait. Through the +windshield Rick watched the townfolk clustered around the courthouse +steps and noted that they weren't talking much. He guessed everyone in +town knew there was something extraordinary about the wreck of the +_Sea Belle_ and he wondered if anyone suspected smuggling activities +at Creek House. + +He said aloud, "If the Kelsos and Brad Marbek took the stuff up to +Salt Creek Bridge before we got there, what boat did they use? The +boat we saw in the boathouse was dry, and the boats on the _Albatross_ +were hanging on the davits. Maybe we're all wet on that, too." + +"Maybe," Scotty agreed glumly. "I've never seen a deal with so many +dead ends." + +Cap'n Mike sounded alarmed. "You're not giving up, are you, boys?" + +"Not a chance. We'll get to the bottom of this sooner or later." +Scotty spoke for both of them. + +Cap'n Mike pointed. "The crowd's coming out." + +Evidently the hearing was over, because those who had waited inside +the building and those lucky enough to get seats were coming out. +Presently Jerry Webster came out, too, tucking his notes into his +jacket pocket. He joined them in the car and greeted Cap'n Mike. + +"You look like three mourners," he told them. "What's the matter?" + +Rick explained briefly, then asked, "Got any bright ideas?" + +"Afraid not," Jerry replied. "Finding someone is a tough job even for +the police with all their facilities. I don't know how you'd even +start." + +"We thought of looking his house over," Rick said. + +"I wouldn't do that," Jerry replied quickly. + +"Why not?" + +"You said he left of his own accord, didn't you? You can bet he locked +his house up tight. If you try to get in, you'll be guilty of breaking +and entering. And even if he left a door open, you've no right to go +in. You can bet the neighbors will be on the phone to the constable's +office if they see anyone fooling around the house." + +"You're right," Rick agreed gloomily. + +"There goes his mate now," Cap'n Mike said. "Must have been at the +hearing." He pointed to a slender man in a cap and lumberjack's shirt +who was crossing the street in front of town hall. + +"Think he told you all he knows?" Rick asked. + +Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Don't know. Maybe he did, +and again maybe not. Chick's a quiet one. Never says much and there's +no way of telling what goes on inside his head." + +"Let's follow him," Scotty suggested. + +Jerry looked at him. "What for?" + +"For lack of anything else to do," Scotty said. "Can't tell. We've +nothing to lose, anyway." + +Rick watched the mate reach the opposite sidewalk, then stand +uncertainly for a moment, looking back across the street. Then, +evidently satisfied, he started off at a brisk walk. It was almost as +though he had looked to see if anyone were coming after him, Rick +thought. + +"Scotty's right," he said quickly. "Let's go after him." + +Jerry started the car and pulled away from the curb. He grinned at +Rick. "Good thing it's Saturday. No paper until Monday morning, so +I've plenty of time. But tell me what to do. I'm green at this +business." + +"Go slow," Rick said. "Watch him." + +The mate reached a corner, looked behind him, then turned down the +side street. + +"Go after him," Rick directed. "Go right on by him and don't anyone +look at him. Cap'n, better crouch down. He knows you, but he doesn't +know the rest of us." + +Jerry swung into the side street and picked up speed. From the corner +of his eye Rick saw the mate walking rapidly. He told Jerry to turn +right at the next corner and to slow down. The blocks were short; the +mate would pass the corner in a moment. + +"Do you know where he lives?" Rick asked the captain. + +"Not on this side of town. He lives out in the district toward the +main road." + +"Any guesses about where he might be heading?" + +"Maybe Jake's Grill. It's this way and I've seen him there." + +Rick directed Jerry to go on to the next corner and wait. Then he +turned and watched the corner they had just passed. If the mate kept +straight on the side street, they would go around the block. If he +turned down the street they had taken, they would simply round the +corner again. + +The mate turned and came after them. + +"Around the corner," Rick directed. "Cap'n, where is this Jake's +Grill?" + +"If you'd turned left instead of right just then," Cap'n Mike replied +as Jerry finished the turn, "you'd have been about at it. It's halfway +down the block." + +Rick made a quick decision. "Okay, here's where we split up. I'll get +out and go to Jake's. The rest of you keep trailing him. If he goes +into Jake's, turn around and park at the next corner where you can see +the entrance. If he doesn't, follow him and pick me up later." + +As they nodded assent, he got out of the car and waved Jerry on, then +he walked swiftly in the opposite direction. He crossed the street +from which they had just turned, and caught a glimpse of the mate from +the corner of his eye. The man was still walking rapidly. Rick paid +no attention to him. He walked at a moderate pace down the street, +pausing once to look in a shop-window. A side glance showed him the +mate, still coming. Rick resumed walking and came to Jake's Grill, a +shabby sort of place with only a half dozen customers. He walked in +without hesitation and took a seat at the counter. + +The counterman came up and wiped the counter clean in front of him +with a rag that might have been white once upon a time. "What'll it +be?" + +"Coffee," Rick said. He was in a good position, because the back of +the counter was lined with a flyspecked mirror through which he could +see the whole restaurant. + +The mate pushed the door open and paused at the entrance. He reached +in his pocket and brought out a crumpled handful of bills and some +change. He counted the change, then searched the pocket for more. +There was none. He started for the counter. + +He must need more change. For what? Rick's quick survey of the place +showed him a phone booth in one corner. Quickly, as the mate +approached, he fished out a dollar and thrust it at the counterman. +"Got any change? I have to make a phone call." + +The counterman took the bill and walked to the cash register. The mate +cast a quick glance at Rick, then called, "Sam, I need some change, +too. Give me some nickles and dimes for this half-buck." He tossed a +fifty-cent piece on the counter. + +Rick relaxed. Perhaps some of the townfolk had seen his and Scotty's +pictures in the paper, but evidently the mate wasn't one of them. +There had been no recognition in the man's eyes. + +The counterman handed Rick a dollar in change and gave the mate some +smaller change. He winked. "Gotta call yer girl, Chick?" + +"Sure have," the mate answered. He had an odd voice, as though his +nasal passages were completely blocked with a bad cold. He looked at +Rick. "Go ahead, kid, make your call." + +"After you, sir," Rick said politely. "I'm in no hurry." + +"Thanks." The mate walked to the booth and shut himself in. + +Rick got up and wandered casually in that direction, his ears cocked +for the mate's words. Unfortunately, the booth was tight. He could +hear only a faint murmur. He went back to the counter and started +sipping his coffee, keeping his eyes on the booth. He heard the dim +tone of bells and his pulse quickened. Those were coins dropping into +the slots. The mate was making an out-of-town call! If only he could +hear! + +The hot coffee was almost scalding, but he scarcely noticed. His mind +was racing, searching for some way to overhear that conversation. +There just wasn't any way. If he walked over and put his ear to the +booth, the men sitting at the tables and farther up the counter would +see. No, he was sunk this time. + +Within four minutes the mate was out of the booth. He came over and +took a seat at the counter a few stools up and nodded at Rick. +"Thanks, boy." + +"That's all right," Rick said. He had to make a pretense of phoning +now. Well, he could call Spindrift and tell his mother they would be +home for lunch. He hadn't been sure how long the hearing would take +when they left. + +He went into the booth and closed the door. The phone had no dial. +Evidently Seaford, like Whiteside, had no dial system. He started to +pick up the receiver and inspiration struck him. If he could imitate +the mate . . . + +He tried to imitate Chick's nasal tone and thought he did pretty well. +He tried again, and it sounded a little better. Anyway, he thought, +there was nothing to lose by trying. If Seaford had more than one +operator on the town switchboard, which was unlikely because of the +size of the town, it wouldn't work, anyway. Or, if there were two and +he got the wrong one it wouldn't work. + +His hand shook slightly as he lifted the receiver and dropped in his +nickel. + +"Number, please?" the operator said sweetly. + +Rick struggled to imitate the mate's voice. "Say, I have to talk to +that number again. Something I forgot to say." + +"What number was that, sir?" the operator asked. + +Rick took a chance, based on the number of bells he had heard. + +"That New York number," he said. "Forget now what it is. Ain't you got +it written down there?" + +"I'll have to have the number, sir," the operator said with firm +sweetness. + +Rick grew desperate. "Shucks, lady," he whined nasally. "You ain't +goin' t'make me go through that business with that information gal +again, are you?" + +There was a subdued tinkle of laughter. "All right. I'll find it." +There was a brief pause. "That number is Cornish 9-3834. Better write +it down this time." + +"I sure will," Rick said. He almost forgot and lapsed back into his +own voice. But he didn't have to write it down. He wasn't forgetting +it. + +"What is your number, please?" + +He gave it, then waited anxiously. In a moment a voice said, "Garden +View Hotel." + +The operator spoke. "One moment, please. Please deposit thirty cents." + +Rick did so, and the bells clanged in his ear. When the ringing +stopped, he said briskly, "Mr. James Killian, please." + +"Just a minute." Then, "No one registered here by that name." + +"Isn't this the Garden Arms Apartments?" Rick asked. + +"No. This is the Garden View Hotel. You have the wrong number." + +"Oops, sorry," Rick said jubilantly, and hung up. + +He walked to the counter and gulped his coffee, put a dime on the +counter and then hurried to the door. The mate was eating a piece of +pie. + +On the street, Rick looked for Jerry's car and spotted it at a corner +two blocks away. He walked rapidly toward it, waving as he did so. The +car pulled away from the curb and sped toward him, and he motioned to +Jerry to turn the next corner. He hurried and got there just as the +car did. + +"Any luck?" Scotty asked. + +"Luck? Touch me, somebody. Listen to this: Captain Killian is at the +Garden View Hotel in New York, registered under a phony name!" He told +them quickly what had happened in the grill and finished, "I'll bet +the mate had orders to phone right after the hearing and let Killian +know what had happened to Tyler." + +"He was handed over to the constable after the insurance company +issued a complaint," Jerry said. "Forgot to tell you that. Well, we +know where this missing captain is. Now what?" + +"Now what! What do you think?" Rick asked indignantly. "Let's go to +New York!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +The Tracker + + +"We can drop your pictures off at the office, then I'll drive you in +to New York, if that's okay," Jerry remarked, as the car sped up the +road to Whiteside. + +"That will be fine," Rick said. "I'll phone Spindrift, too, and let +Mom know we won't be home for lunch. We can pick up a hamburger at a +roadstand on the way in." + +Jerry slowed down to a more moderate pace and Rick looked at him, +surprised. "Thought we were in a hurry." + +"Trying something," Jerry said. His eyes were on the rearview mirror. +After a moment he spoke. "The car behind us slowed down, too. I think +he's following us." + +Cap'n Mike started to look back, but Scotty said warningly, "Don't! If +they're really following, we don't want to let them know they've been +spotted." + +"There's a curve up ahead, Jerry," Rick said. "Keep your eyes on that +car as we round the curve and let me know when they're out of sight." + +"Okay." + +The curve loomed. Jerry took it smoothly, then glanced up at the +mirror. "Now," he said. + +Rick reached up and readjusted the mirror so he could see, then +settled back. In a few seconds the other car was in sight, too far +back for him to see the figures on the license plate, but not so far +that he couldn't see clearly that the plate was from New York, or that +the car was the same make and model as the one they had seen in +Kelso's garage. Reflection of light on the windshield made the +occupant hazy, but Rick had a good idea who it was. + +"Looks like Kelso's car," he told the others. "Listen, Jerry, don't go +to the paper. Drop us in front of Dean's Department Store, then go +around the block. Go slowly to give us time to find out who this bird +is. No, I've got a better idea. Park the car. He'll have to park his +if he intends to follow us." + +Jerry nodded agreement. "There's a parking lot next to the store. I'll +swing in there." + +Cap'n Mike was grinning from ear to ear. "I'll be dadblamed if this +ain't just like something I read once," he said. "I knew if I got you +two interested we'd have some excitement!" + +Jerry chuckled. "What do you think I want to take them into New York +for? I usually go swimming on Saturday afternoon." + +They were at the outskirts of Whiteside now. Jerry slowed speed again, +and three minutes later he swung into the parking lot next to Dean's, +in the busiest part of the town. Through the rearview mirror Rick saw +the other car go by, heading for a vacant space at the curb, probably. +He had noticed one a half block down. + +The four got out of the car and Jerry took the parking check from the +attendant. "Now what?" he asked. + +"We walk down the street," Rick directed, "and if we haven't spotted +him by the time we get to Mark's Supermarket, turn into the store. It +has two entrances." + +"If we split up, he'd get confused and we'd lose him easy," Jerry +suggested. "Then we could meet somewhere." + +"Amateur," Scotty scoffed. "We don't want to lose him. We want to find +out who he is." + +Rick and Scotty led the way, Cap'n Mike and Jerry following. As they +passed the parked car, Rick saw the license plate clearly. It was the +one he had noticed at Kelso's. Probably Carrots or Red, he thought. +Maybe both. Without seeming to look around, he noted every possible +hiding place where the tracker might wait for them, and decided on the +doorway of an office building. There were a half dozen pillars the +tracker could use for cover. He waited until they were a half block +down from the building, then he turned suddenly as though to speak to +the two behind him. Scotty, whose mind worked much the some way, +turned at about the same time. + +Rick got a quick glimpse of a stocky youth with carrot hair dodging +into a doorway. He stopped and said, "Don't look back. I've got him +spotted. Let's go into Mark's and we'll figure out how to get rid of +him." + +"Carrots," Scotty said gleefully. "We'll have to think of something +really cute for that little friend." + +"Fiend," Rick corrected. + +They turned into the supermarket and mingled with the shoppers. Rick +led the way behind a counter stacked high with cereals where they +couldn't be seen. "The meeting is open to suggestions," he said. "We +can shake him with no trouble, but that's too good for him. Any +ideas?" + +"Lead him on a wild-goose chase," Jerry offered. + +Scotty had a grin on his face that boded ill for Carrots Kelso. "I've +got one. I saw it pulled once. Jerry, do you suppose Mildred is at the +office?" + +Mildred Clark, the older sister of one of Barby Brant's closest +friends, was the newspaper's bookkeeper. She had been a visitor at +Spindrift several times, accompanying Jerry to picnics or swimming +parties. + +Jerry looked at his watch. "It's Saturday afternoon, and she usually +doesn't work, but we're getting out our monthly statements, so she's +probably there." + +"Swell. Now how well do you know the cop on this beat?" + +"We're good friends. I gave him a plug in the paper once. He deserved +it, but he thinks I did it out of the goodness of my heart." + +Scotty's grin widened. He lowered his voice and rapidly sketched the +part each was to play. As he talked, Rick, too, began to grin. + +When Scotty had finished, Rick and Cap'n Mike sauntered to the front +of the store. Rick glanced through the big plate-glass windows, but he +saw no sign of Carrots. That meant nothing, because Carrots would be a +complete cabbagehead to let himself be seen. Rick was sure he was +watching. He and Cap'n Mike stood talking for a moment, then Scotty +appeared beside them, and said, "Well, here goes--Jerry's on the phone +now," and faded into the crowd again. + +Rick let five minutes elapse while he and the Captain stood in plain +sight, then he glanced at his watch and motioned to the old seaman. +The two of them went out the front of the store. Long before this, +Scotty and Jerry had gone through the side entrance that opened on +another street. + +Rick waited in front of the store, glancing in now and then, and +trying to act impatient. Then he and the Captain started up Main +Street at a slow walk. If everything was working out, Carrots would +have chosen to follow them rather than to wait at the store for Scotty +and Jerry. That was what Rick would have done in his place. He had a +hunch Carrots had picked them up in Seaford and had followed them +largely because of Cap'n Mike's presence. It was entirely possible +that the Kelsos were equally anxious to know of Captain Killian's +whereabouts. Or perhaps they were just interested in seeing if Cap'n +Mike knew where he was. + +As they passed Dean's Department Store, Rick glanced into the doorway +and saw Mildred Clark. He breathed a little easier. The others had +made it on time. And coming down the street toward him was the +policeman who always patrolled this beat. Although he knew Rick well, +he made no sign. + +They neared the entrance of the parking lot and Jerry motioned from +behind a car. He was peering down the street behind them. "Watch +this!" he said gleefully, and stepped into plain view. + +Rick whirled just as Carrots Kelso came abreast of Dean's doorway. +Mildred stepped out ahead of him. She was a slender, attractive girl, +and a good actress, as it proved. She was pulling on gloves, and as is +usually the case while so doing, she had her purse tucked under her +arm. + +She and Carrots were only a yard apart when Scotty appeared from the +doorway. He took a long step past Carrots, snatched Mildred's purse +from under her arm, whirled, and handed it to the astonished redhead. +Carrots' reaction was perfect. He took the purse stupidly and stood +there with his mouth open. + +Scotty vanished back into the doorway. Mildred screamed. + +Carrots saw immediately that he was being framed. He turned to run, +but forgot to let go of the purse. Mildred screamed again and Carrots +sprinted headlong into Duke Barrows. Duke held him for the moment it +took for the policeman to arrive. + +It was too good to miss. Rick, Jerry, and the Captain walked back down +the street toward the confusion, trying hard to conceal their mirth. + +Mildred pointed at the purse Carrots still clutched. "That," she +proclaimed dramatically, "is my purse!" + +"I didn't take it," Carrots yelled. "Someone handed it to me!" + +The officer scowled. "A likely story! Unless you had a confederate. +Where is he?" + +Quite a crowd was gathering now. Mildred turned convincingly faint and +Duke had to prop her up. Rick's face was scarlet from choking back +laughter, because he was sure Carrots would burst from sheer anger at +any moment. + +Then Carrots saw him. "You!" he screamed and jerked the policeman's +arm. "There he is! That's one of them. His friend took my--I mean it +was his friend who--" + +The officer interrupted. "Do you know this boy?" he asked Rick. + +Rick shook his head, his face solemn. "Never saw him before in my +life," he said calmly. + +Jerry spoke in a stage whisper that could have been heard a block. "A +perfect criminal type if I ever saw one." + +Cap'n Mike choked and had to turn away. + +Rick nudged Jerry and they turned and walked rapidly back to the +parking lot. It was time to get going. + +Scotty was standing by the car, grinning broadly. Cap'n Mike was weak +from laughing. "Y'know," he chortled, "I've heard the word 'ham' used +for actors, but I never got the full meaning until now. Never saw such +bad acting in my life, except for the girl. She was almost +convincing." + +"On our way," Rick said, and laughter bubbled up as they got into the +car. As they pulled out into the traffic, they saw Carrots being +marched up the street toward the police station, Duke and Mildred +walking behind him and the policeman. + +"Duke phoned the chief from the paper," Jerry said. "They'll go +through all the motions of booking Carrots and taking his picture, +then they'll throw him in a cell for a while. When he quiets down, the +chief will go in and talk to him like a father and point out that +crime doesn't pay, then he'll let him go with a warning." + +Scotty sobered. "It worked like a charm," he said. "But Rick, old egg, +from now on you and I had better stay away from the front end of +Carrots' little air gun!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Captain Killian + + +Jerry turned down the cross street and looked around him doubtfully. +"I don't know what a fancy hotel would be doing in this neighborhood, +Rick." + +"We don't know how fancy it is," Rick returned. "It just has a fancy +name. But keep going. We should get to it soon. See any numbers?" + +They had stopped and found the address in a telephone book as soon as +they crossed the river into New York through the Holland Tunnel. As +Jerry pointed out, it wasn't a likely neighborhood in which to find a +hotel. It seemed to be mostly manufacturing plants engaged in making +gloves and ladies clothes. + +"Wonder how he happened to choose this location?" Scotty asked. + +"Probably just came into the city and walked down this way and went +into the first hotel he saw," Cap'n Mike speculated. "Man gets used to +a fishing trawler, he's not going to ask for anything fancy by way of +a hotel." + +Jerry and Rick had been scanning the numbers along the street. "It's +on your side," Rick said. "Watch for it." + +Jerry applied the brakes and the car slowed. "That must be it," he +said, pointing across the street. + +It wasn't what Rick had expected. A tiny metal sign announced that +this was the Garden View Hotel. It was set above a dingy doorway +through which a flight of stairs could be seen. + +"Where's the garden it's supposed to have a view of?" Scotty wanted to +know. + +Rick motioned in the general direction of uptown. "Probably Madison +Square Garden. You could see it from here easily if there weren't +about two thousand buildings in the way including the Empire State." +He was wondering if they had the right place. "This calls for a small +change in plans," he said. + +On the way to New York they had decided it would be easiest to give a +bellhop a generous tip and have him locate Captain Killian for them. +Bellhops usually knew about every guest in a small hotel, and they +suspected the Garden View would be small simply because none of them +had ever heard of it. + +"You're right," Scotty agreed. "A place like that wouldn't have a +bellhop." + +Rick searched for an idea. "You wouldn't know his signature on the +register, would you. Cap'n?" + +"Never seen him sign his name." + +"Why couldn't one of us be a relative looking for him?" Jerry offered. + +"Say, that's an idea!" Scotty exclaimed. "We could pretend he's a +little cracked and describe him. The clerk would know who we meant, +and he'd probably be glad to tell us, because hotels don't like +having people who might be a little bit off." + +"Cap'n Mike could do it," Rick said. "Cap'n, couldn't you pretend to +be his brother?" + +"Sure I could. Well, what are we waiting for? Do I go alone?" + +"I'll go with you," Rick offered. + +"Jerry and I had better wait, then," Scotty said. "It might look funny +if four of us came trooping in like a chowder-and-marching club." + +Jerry spoke up. "That's okay, except don't forget I'm to talk with him +if he has anything to say. Have to get an interview for the paper." + +"We'll bring him down," Rick promised confidently. "Let's go, Cap'n." + +The stairs leading up into the hotel were creaky with age, and the +accumulation of dust and dirt showed months without a broom. At the +top of the stairs was what had once been quite a nice lobby. But now +the rug was worn to strings and the wallpaper had acquired a glaze of +dirt that made it look like ancient newspapers. Behind the scarred +ruin of an oak counter stood a clerk so fat Rick wondered how the +floor could support him. He was reading a comic book, and he didn't +even look up as they came in. + +Cap'n Mike addressed him politely. "Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you +can help me?" + +Tired eyes looked up from the comic book. "What can I do for you?" The +words and tone were surprisingly courteous. + +"I'm looking for my brother," Cap'n Mike said. "He's a man about my +height, five years younger, still a lot of black in his hair. Red +complexion, pretty well lined. Smokes a corncob pipe. His real name is +Killian, but I don't think you'd know him by that." He touched his +head significantly. "Mind is going. He thinks he's being persecuted." + +"What makes you think he might be here?" + +Cap'n Mike's expressive face assumed a look of infinite sadness. +"Once, many years ago, he spent his honeymoon here. Lost his wife +shortly after in an auto crash, but since his mind went he won't +believe she's dead. Even though it was nigh onto twenty years ago. +Poor soul. Keeps looking for her. We try to keep him home, so he +sneaks off and takes an assumed name. Found him here once before." + +"When?" the tone was suspicious. "I've been here five years myself, +and I don't remember anything like that." + +"Oh, it was longer ago than that," Cap'n Mike added hastily. "Must be +over eight." He coughed apologetically. "We've had him in an old +seaman's home for a few years, but he wasn't happy there." + +Rick looked at Cap'n Mike with admiration. When it came to spinning a +convincing yarn right off the cuff, so to speak, Cap'n Mike was a +master. Rick hid a smile. What had the old man said about ham actors a +little while back? + +The clerk was nodding slowly. "Old seaman, is he? Well, that fits one +of our guests." He looked at Cap'n Mike sharply. "Sure it's all right? +Who is this boy?" + +Cap'n Mike put his hand on Rick's shoulder. "This? Ah, sir, it's this +boy's poor mother old Jim came here to find." + +Rick bowed his head and looked as sad as possible. He had to bow it +anyway, to conceal the grin that was forcing its way to the surface. + +"What room is he in?" Cap'n Mike asked tenderly. "Poor old soul." + +"I'll call him." The clerk went to the switchboard and plugged in a +line, then pulled the toggle switch a couple of times. He picked up +the phones and put them on. "Mr. Jameson? Your brother and son are +down here to see you." + +Rick held his breath. + +The clerk unplugged the line and put the phone down. "He'll be +downstairs in a minute." He went back to his comic book. + +Rick and Cap'n Mike went over to a sofa and sat down. As they did so, +a little cloud of dust rose. + +The minutes ticked away. Rick fidgeted. + +He leaned over close to Cap'n Mike. "What do you suppose is keeping +him?" + +"Don't know," Cap'n Mike whispered back. "We'd better see." He rose and +walked to the desk again. "He's slow in coming, sir. I'm just wondering. +Remember I said he thought we were persecuting him? He may ... well, +sir, I wonder if we could go up?" + +There was a trace of alarm in the clerk's face. "Maybe you better," he +agreed. "Room 410. Three flights. Two floors up." + +Rick and the Captain hurried for the stairs, went up them two at a +time. To Rick's surprise the old man kept pace with him. On the fourth +landing they paused and looked up and down the shabby corridor. One +door was open. Rick ran to it and looked at the number. It was 410. He +rushed into the room, a tiny box with only a bed, a washstand and a +closet. It was empty. He flung the closet door open and saw a +suitcase. + +"He's gone," he called, and rushed back into the hall again. Cap'n +Mike already was trying other doors. All of them were locked except +the bath, and that was empty. + +Rick ran the other way, to the end of the hall where a window stood +open. Fire escape! He leaned far out the window and looked down into a +maze of back alleys. Then his searching eyes saw a figure scurrying +through them, heading east. + +"Cap'n," he called. "Hurry downstairs! Tell Jerry to cut around the +block. He's heading east, the same way the car is. I'll go after him!" +He swung a leg through the window and jumped to the steel fire escape +as Cap'n Mike rushed for the stairs. + +Rick went down the open steel stairs as though he had wings. As he +passed the second floor, he saw the clerk's mouth open to call. Rick +didn't wait to see what he had to say. Perhaps he was trying to tell +him Captain Killian had gone down, too. The clerk would have seen him. +Rick shook his head. The captain must have waited on the fire escape +until they started up the stairs in order to avoid being seen through +the window. + +The last flight was counterbalanced. He stepped on the stairs and they +swung down with a faint groan. Then he was on the ground. He turned +east and ran, leaping over fallen trash and barrels. He had a picture +of the alleys in his mind, so he took all the right turns but one. +That one brought him into a dead end. He backtracked quickly and found +the right way out, and in a moment he came out on the avenue. He +stopped on the curb and looked both ways, spying Jerry's car on the +uptown side, cruising along slowly. He started to call, then realized +Jerry wouldn't hear him. Better to wait. If the car hadn't reached the +avenue before Captain Killian, it was a good bet that they had lost +him. He scuffed his shoe on the curb disgustedly. + +Jerry swung into the next cross street, apparently with the intention +of going completely around the block. And Rick saw a figure step out +of a doorway the moment the coast was clear! The man fitted the +description Cap'n Mike had given. Rick turned his back hurriedly and +walked leisurely in the opposite direction. Then he turned into an +alley between two buildings and peered out. Captain Killian was +walking briskly uptown. Rick saw him turn right at the next corner, in +the direction opposite from that Jerry had taken. + +Once Killian was out of sight, Rick turned and ran uptown, crossing +the avenue. At the corner the seaman had turned, he slowed and looked +around cautiously. It was a long block. The captain was about halfway +down it. Rick debated. Jerry, if he had gone around the block, would +appear on the avenue in a moment, probably one block farther up, since +he wouldn't retrace the street in front of the hotel. + +Rick decided to take the chance. This part of town was almost +deserted, because it was late in the afternoon, and few offices were +open on Saturdays, anyway. They could spot Killian easily enough now +that he knew which direction he had taken. He ran to the next corner +and had to wait only a few seconds before Jerry's car appeared across +the street. He put fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. +Jerry tooted the horn and shot across the avenue to him as the light +turned green. + +"Straight ahead," Rick said. "With luck, we'll meet him at the corner, +unless he turned downtown." + +The car roared through the narrow street to the next corner and +stopped. Rick and Cap'n Mike piled out, and the Captain went to meet +the man who had stopped short at their sudden appearance. + +"Howdy, Jim," he said. + +Captain Killian snorted. "So it's you. Thought I recognized you +through the window. What d'you want? And how did you know where to +find me?" + +Cap'n Mike smiled. "As to the second, I got some excellent spies +working for me now, Jim. As to the first, you know right well what I +want." + +"You ain't gonna get it, Mike O'Shannon. I didn't leave town for my +health. I left for a good reason, and I'm going to stay lost. So get +back in the car with them kids and get out of here. Otherwise, I +reckon I'll have to yell for a cop." + +"You won't do that," Cap'n Mike said shrewdly. "If you'd wanted a cop, +you could have got one in Seaford. Come on, Jim, and stop acting like +you were the only one knew anything. We know what you saw the night +Tom was wrecked. And we know who did it." + +That stopped Captain Killian. He gave Cap'n Mike a penetrating look, +then said abruptly, "Where can we talk?" + +"In the car." + +Cap'n Mike introduced the boys to Killian. "Rick and Scotty," he +explained, "figured out what must have happened to Tom Tyler. Tell +him, Rick." + +Rick outlined the theory quickly. + +Captain Killian sat staring out of the window. "That's about it," he +said finally. "It must be. Maybe Bill Lake thought he'd lost the light +and current set him over, but I was closer. Not close enough to see +anything but the light, you understand. But I saw it blink out, and I +looked down at the binnacle and held the same compass heading until it +came on again, and it was in a different place. + +"If you'd said that at the hearing this morning, Tom Tyler might have +been free right now," Cap'n Mike accused. + +Captain Killian's back stiffened. "I don't know what you're thinking, +Mike, but if it weren't for Tom, I wouldn't be here." + +"We'd like to hear about that," Cap'n Mike said. + +"May as well tell you. Soon as I saw what happened to the _Sea Belle_, +I hurried to find Tom. While I was looking for him, I ran into Brad +Marbek and I asked him about the light. I knew he'd been right behind +Tom. Brad acted mighty queer, and when I did see Tom, he got all +excited. He begged me to leave town, for my own sake and his. I told +him he'd have a hard time without my testimony and Brad's, and he +broke down and told me Brad was mixed up in some kind of deal with +them Kelsos, and he said he wasn't worried about himself, but about +Celia--that's his wife--and their little girl. He said he didn't dare +try and clear himself, though he knew right well what had happened." + +Captain Killian shrugged. "What could I do? Stay and put Celia and +their little girl in danger? Not likely I'd do that! And I couldn't +pretend not to know anything because I'd already talked to Brad." + +The four nodded their understanding. + +"So I packed up and got out. First I told Chick what to say, and told +him to tell folks I'd been to the trawler next morning so they +wouldn't connect my going with Tom's wreck." + +"Was just the shifting of the light all you saw?" Rick asked. + +"That's all. I will say that I knew the second light was the real one. +I hadn't known the first one wasn't real, but when Smugglers' Light +came on I could see there was a difference. I'd figured the light was +sort of dull because of ground haze. There was some, you know." + +"There's our evidence," Scotty said. + +"Yep." Cap'n Mike leaned back in the seat. "Only trouble is, we can't +use it without getting both Jim and Tom's family in danger. So I guess +we're back where we started." + +"But we can prove to the police the light was changed," Jerry began. +"If Captain Killian tells his story ..." He stopped. "No good. Because +we have no proof the Kelsos were mixed up in it, and they'd still be +able to carry out their threats." + +"That's exactly right," Captain Killian said. "Now how about telling +me how you found me? Did Chick give me away?" + +"Not on purpose," Cap'n Mike assured him. "Rick was trailing him when +he telephoned you this morning, and he found out the number Chick had +called. The rest was easy." + +"I see. And what am I supposed to do now?" + +"I don't see how you can stay in that hotel," Cap'n Mike said, a +little distastefully. + +Captain Killian smiled. "Pretty bad, all right. You know, last time I +spent a night in New York I stayed there. It was right nice. There was +a real pretty garden out in back." + +"How long ago was that?" Rick queried. + +The fisherman hesitated. "Oh, must be all of twenty-five years ago. I +was some upset when I saw the place, but I'd already told Chick to +call me there, so nothing for it but to stay. Wish I could stay +somewhere else, but it wouldn't be safe to go back to Seaford." + +"Whiteside would be all right," Rick said. "You could stay there." + +"I'd rather. But are you sure it'd be safe?" + +Jerry spoke up. "Captain, I'm on the Whiteside _Morning Record_. I'll +make a deal with you. Give us your story exclusively, when the right +time comes, and the paper will guarantee your safety." + +"It sounds good," Captain Killian admitted. "But when is the right +time going to come? Maybe never." + +"Sooner than you think," Rick said quietly. "Look, gang. There's only +one way to crack this case. We know now we can't get Captain Tyler +cleared unless the whole outfit is rounded up. So we'll just have to +get busy and find the evidence we need. We'll start over again, and +this time we won't go wrong because we know what to look for, and +where to look." + +"Fighting talk," Cap'n Mike chuckled happily. + +Scotty laughed. "Do we dare put our heads inside the Seaford city +limits again after what we did to Carrots? He'll be waiting for us +with a squad of thugs and that little popgun of his." + +"The popgun maybe, but no thugs," Rick corrected. "What will you bet +he never even tells his father what happened to him?" + +"No bet there," Jerry said, grinning. "I'll bet the same thing." He +put the car in gear. "We may as well head back to Whiteside. First, +though, we'll have to collect Captain Killian's baggage." + +The captain spoke his agreement. "I'll take your offer, son." He shook +his head. "You know, I'm real surprised at Brad Marbek. I knew he +wasn't above turning a dishonest dollar, but I thought he had more +sense than to go into smuggling. No matter how foolproof you think +your setup is, if you start smuggling you're bound to get caught. +Sooner or later." + +"In this case," Rick added hopefully, "we'll try to make it sooner." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Plimsoll Marks + + +Duke Barrows, editor of the Whiteside _Morning Record_, sipped slowly +at his cup of coffee, nodding encouragement at Rick every once in a +while. The editor, after a few words with Jerry, had taken Captain +Killian to his own house for safekeeping. The captain could stay +there, Duke said, until it was time for him to make a public +appearance. + +But the price Duke asked was to be told the complete story. At first +Rick hesitated. With no proof of anything except for Captain Killian's +testimony, which actually convicted no one, he was a little doubtful +about making accusations. But when it came to keeping a tight lip, the +editor was probably more experienced than any of them. Besides, Rick +hoped that he might have a suggestion, so, finally, they put Cap'n +Mike on the Seaford bus and the three boys and Duke retired to a +secluded booth in the rear of a restaurant to talk it over. + +Barrows traced circles on the plastic table top for long moments after +Rick had finished. "You've been pretty thorough," he said finally. +"What do you plan to try now?" + +Rick shook his head. "I wish I knew. We could try to get to Creek +House earlier next time the _Albatross_ puts in there, but we know now +they guard the place." + +"How about spotting the _Albatross_ from the air while she actually +loads at sea?" Duke asked. + +"Rick mentioned that," Scotty replied. "But how? We can't fly at night +in the Cub because we don't have landing lights. And even if we did, +we could only go out in moonlight because we don't have any night +flying instruments." + +Jerry looked at the editor. "Duke, you know the Coast Guard commanding +officer in this area. How about getting him to send out one of his +planes?" + +"We could," Duke said slowly, "but I'd rather not. This is Rick and +Scotty's case." He grinned. "Besides, I'm selfish. If the Coast Guard +gets it, every news agency and paper in the country gets it from +official sources. I'd rather have an exclusive we can copyright, then +every paper in the country will have to quote us." + +"It would put Whiteside on the map," Rick grinned in response. +"Seriously, Duke, I'm afraid that's not very practical. Besides, how +would we know when the _Albatross_ was going to make contact with a +supply ship? We know when he's going to Creek House, because Cap'n +Mike can see him. But Brad has already made contact when that +happens." + +"Let's take one thing at a time." The editor drew pencil and paper +from his pocket. "What would you need to fly at night?" + +Rick ticked them off on his fingers. "Wing landing lights, navigation +lights, cockpit instrument light. And if we were supposed to fly in +anything but clear weather, we'd need a bank and turn indicator and an +artificial horizon. But even then I'd be doubtful. I've never had +instrument training. I wouldn't dare take the Cub out unless it was a +clear, moonlit night, so I'd have a good horizon." + +Scotty approved. "That makes sense. And if we stuck to clear +moonlight, the only things we'd need would be landing lights and +navigation lights." + +Duke made notes. "All right. I don't think you need to worry much +about having moonlight, because the weather is pretty consistent at +this time of year. Barring a ground haze or a local thunderstorm, +you'll have clear weather, and the moon will be full by the early part +of next week. Now suppose we get Gus to install landing lights and +navigation lights on a rental basis? The paper would pay for that in +exchange for an exclusive story." + +"All we'd need would be good weather," Rick said. He had never flown +the Cub at night. In fact, he had flown only once at night, and then +it was in a much better plane and with an experienced instructor. But +with good moonlight and a clear sky, it shouldn't be much different +from day flying. + +Duke continued. "Now the next point. How can we know when the +_Albatross_ is going to make contact?" + +"I think we can find out if Cap'n Mike will help," Scotty answered. +"We know it takes time to transfer the smuggled goods, whatever they +are. That means Brad Marbek has to leave port earlier in the morning +than usual, unless he wants to call attention to what he's doing. As I +see it, he probably leaves pretty early, makes contact with his +supply ship and gets his load, then he hurries to the fishing grounds +and gets his nets over the side and is fishing when daylight comes and +the others see him. If Cap'n Mike kept watch, he would let us know +when Brad left real early." + +"That's good figuring," Rick complimented his pal. "The _Albatross_ +would have to leave between half past two and three in the morning. +Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to load before daybreak." + +"It wouldn't take long," Scotty pointed out. "They have to do their +unloading by hand at Creek House, but the ship would have cargo booms. +Two cargo nets swung to his deck would do it. It wouldn't take any +time at all." + +Jerry consulted his watch. "We could go to Seaford tonight and make +arrangements." + +Rick shook his head. "It's Saturday. The fleet doesn't go out on +Sunday. Monday will be soon enough." + +"I have another idea," Duke Barrows said. "Suppose we take the State +Police into our confidence?" + +"But we haven't any evidence to give them," Jerry objected. + +"No need. Captain Ed Douglas is a good friend of mine. I can put it to +him as a friend, and not officially." + +Rick rather liked the idea of having the State Police on their side. +He had a great deal of respect for the young officers, and he knew +that they operated with military efficiency, plus FBI criminology +training. What's more, Captain Douglas was a good friend of Hartson +Brant's, and Rick knew he would treat their story with confidence. + +"I'm for it," he said finally. "Besides, if the State Police sort of +co-operated unofficially, they could have their highway patrols watch +out for the truck that is getting the stuff from Creek House. The +patrol car wouldn't even have to go into Seaford. They could just keep +an eye on Salt Creek Bridge, because that must be the loading point. +Cap'n Mike hasn't seen any trucks on Million Dollar Row." + +"Fine." Duke Barrows rose. "It's still early. We'll get busy right +away. First stop Whiteside Airport to talk with Gus about putting +lights on your plane. Then we'll drop in on Captain Douglas." + +Rick felt better. The pattern was clear now, even though there were a +lot of "ifs." If Cap'n Mike notified them, he and Scotty could fly +over the _Albatross_. If they saw it make contact with some offshore +ship and load contraband, they could return to Spindrift and notify +Captain Douglas. Then the State Police could be on hand at Creek House +to catch the Kelsos and Marbek in the act of unloading. And that would +settle the smugglers' hash once and for all! The prospect of flying at +night made him a little nervous, but he was sure it would be all +right. The only thing was, although he could take off from Spindrift +at night he couldn't land there, because the tiny strip gave no room +for errors in judgment. He would have to land at Whiteside. + +"This is on the _Morning Record_," Duke said as he paid the check. +"And while we're working on this, I think I'll try to dig into Kelso's +record a little, too. Never know what might turn up." + + * * * * * + +Sunday was quiet at Spindrift. Rick and Scotty swam in the light surf +below Pirate's Field, sun-bathed for a while, and then walked back to +the house. Hartson Brant was loafing for the day, too, and Rick had an +opportunity to talk with him for the first time in several days. + +Hartson Brant listened to Rick's story and plans, and agreed that any +night flying must be done in absolutely clear, bright weather. Rick +knew the fact that Captain Douglas was co-operating had swung his +father's decision, and he knew that although his mother would be +inclined to object, she would accept his father's judgment. + +It gave Rick a comfortable feeling to know that the State Police +captain was interested. Captain Douglas had agreed to go along with +their plans during a long conference the night before. And Gus had +promised to get the necessary lights for the Cub from Newark early +Monday morning, and to have them installed by Monday evening. + + * * * * * + +Rick and Scotty helped with the installation on Monday afternoon. The +hardest part was feeding the wires through the wings and fuselage. The +wires had to be passed from one inspection port to the next, which +required a great deal of fishing. But by five in the afternoon, the +job was done. The Cub now carried a pair of landing lights, like auto +headlights, one under each wing, and red and green navigation lights +on the wings. There was a tiny white light on the tail, too, which +would blink in unison with the colored wing lights. + +As they landed at Spindrift, Rick grinned at Scotty. "Your head set +firmly on your neck? It might get jarred off first time I try a night +landing." + +"I should have stayed in the Marine Corps and lived a quiet, safe +life," Scotty grumbled. "When do we try these things out?" + +"Want to go down and shine the lights on Creek House?" Rick joked. + +"Nope. Wouldn't be safe. Didn't that phone call warn you not to fly +over Seaford?" + +The phrase hit home. Rick yelled, "That's it! Scotty, I knew there was +something funny. It was in the back of my head and I couldn't dig it +out. But that's it! Listen, why would the Kelsos object to our flying +over Seaford during the day? All their dirty work goes on under cover +of darkness. They must have some reason for warning us!" + +"Gosh, yes!" Scotty started at a run through the orchard. "Let's go +take another look at those photographs!" + +They ran through the house and up the stairs to Rick's room, and +spread out on a table the enlargements Scotty had made. "Let's see," +Rick said. "There must be something they don't want us to see. But +where? We know there's nothing on the grounds, and we couldn't see +anything in the house or garage from the air." + +"The marsh," Scotty suggested. "Try the marsh, especially up the creek +from the hotel." + +Their heads bent over the best photo of the area and two pairs of eyes +scanned the marsh grass. Rick pointed to an area on the Creek House +side of the marsh, a short distance below the bridge. "There's +something there, but I can't make it out." + +Scotty straightened up. "Got a magnifying glass?" + +"There's one in the library." Rick ran to get it, stopped to explain +to his father that they might have an important clue, and ran back +upstairs again. It was a powerful glass. He held it over the +questionable area and details leaped to meet him. Wordlessly he handed +the glass to Scotty. + +The boy bent and studied the photo, then he turned to Rick with a wide +grin on his face. "So that's it! Rick, this is their cache. They must +park the stuff there until the truck comes!" + +The marsh grass had been bent cunningly over the area in an effort at +camouflage, but the magnifying glass clearly showed some sort of barge +piled with wooden boxes! + +"Let's go take a look," Scotty said enthusiastically. "Maybe it's +still there." + +Rick started to agree, then a thought struck him. "We'd better not. +They'd see us, and they might notice the lights on the plane. We don't +want to tip our hand." Then he brightened. "But they don't know Gus's +plane!" He hurried out into the hall and called Whiteside Airport. Gus +answered. + +"This is Rick," he told the airport manager. "Gus, how's your plane?" + +"Running like a watch. Just like my car. Why?" + +"How's to borrow it for a quick trip south?" + +"Now he wants to imitate birds," Gus groaned. "Don't you know it's too +early to fly south?" + +"Don't want to go that far south," Rick said. + +"Come and get it." + +Rick had no hesitation in asking the obliging Gus for the loan of +equipment because he was always ready to oblige in turn. Several +times, when Gus's plane was out of commission or not available, +either because of engine overhaul or because some flier had rented it, +Rick had taken the Cub to Whiteside for Gus to use in instructing his +pupils. Furthermore, the island boats were always at Gus's disposal +and he frequently borrowed one to go on a Sunday fishing excursion. + +The short hop to Whiteside took only a few minutes. Rick taxied to the +hangar and he and Scotty climbed out. Gus's plane, a light private job +of a different make than Rick's and painted red, was standing on the +apron. It had the name of the airport painted on the side in large +letters. + +Gus came out of the office and walked to meet them. He was a short, +stocky young man only a few years older than Rick, and his slightly +sour look hid a keen sense of humor. "I called my lawyer," he +announced. "He'll be right here." + +"Lawyer?" Rick sometimes had a hard time knowing when Gus was pulling +his leg. "What for?" + +Gus shrugged. "You're borrowing my plane when your own is in perfect +flying condition. It must be for something illegal. You want my plane +to be seen instead of yours. You want people to think I did it. So I +asked my lawyer to come. I'll have a witness to prove I wasn't in the +plane when the dastardly deed was done." + +"What deed?" Scotty asked seriously. + +Gus looked wise. "You don't trap me like that," he said. "If I +admitted what I know, that would make me an accessory before the fact. +Nope, I'm keeping quiet about this." He leered. "But I know!" + +"Accessory!" Rick hooted. "You know what that means? Something extra +and usually unnecessary." + +Gus looked hurt. "I'll remember that next time you come in for an +engine check and I'll put emery in your crankcase. Go on. Get in and +I'll whirl the fan for you." + +Rick and Scotty climbed into Gus's plane, grinning. Rick checked the +controls rapidly, then called, "Ignition off." + +"Off," Gus repeated, and pulled the propeller through to prime the +engine. + +"Contact," Rick called, and Gus pulled the prop. The engine caught at +once. Rick warmed it, watching his gauges, then waved to Gus and +taxied to the end of the runway. As they were airborne, Scotty took +the speed graphic he had brought and checked to see that a film pack +was in place. Rick banked around and headed for Seaford. + +There was no buzzing of Creek House this time. Rick flew in a straight +line, just far enough seaward so that Scotty could get a good picture. +As they passed the cache area, Scotty leaned far out and snapped the +shutter. Then he turned to Rick, grinning. "Still there. About ten +cases. It looks as if we've got the goods on them." + +Rick flew straight ahead until he was out of sight of Seaford, then he +swung a few miles inland and returned to Whiteside. Fifteen minutes +later they were landing the Cub at Spindrift, just in time for dinner. +But first Rick made a phone call to the _Morning Record_, reported +their findings to Duke and arranged with Jerry to pick them up at the +Whiteside dock later for a trip to Seaford. They had to see Cap'n Mike +to make arrangements and Rick wanted another look at the _Albatross_. +He had to memorize every detail of its silhouette, otherwise he might +find himself following the wrong ship when the time came if another +fisherman decided to get an early start. + +It was dusk when Jerry met them. "Got a message from Duke," he said as +they climbed into the car. "He phoned Captain Douglas to tell him +about the wooden cases you saw. The captain is going to keep an eye on +the stuff, but he says it isn't enough evidence. The Kelsos could +always claim they knew nothing about it and we couldn't prove they +did. The stuff isn't on their land." + +"Proof," Scotty said sourly. "Golly, do we have to get pictures of +them peddling the stuff to customers?" + +"Just about," Rick commented. + + * * * * * + +Cap'n Mike wasn't at home when the boys arrived. They parked in front +of his shack and talked and listened to the car radio for over an hour +before he finally appeared, then he greeted them tartly. + +"Why weren't you at Spindrift when I phoned?" + +"What for?" Rick asked. "What happened?" + +"Brad Marbek's at Creek House again. That's what happened. I called to +tell you, and your mother said you had left. What's the matter? Not +letting what happened the other night scare you off, are you?" + +"We sure are," Scotty replied. + +Rick laughed at the old seaman's astonished expression. "Don't let him +fool you, Cap'n. We've got another plan." + +Quickly he outlined Duke's proposal and explained how they had +outfitted the Cub. + +Cap'n Mike smacked his thigh. "Now we're getting down to cases. You +just bet I'll keep watch on the pier so I can phone when Brad leaves." + +"There's one more thing, Cap'n Mike," Rick said. "I have to get +another look at the _Albatross_ tonight. Is there any place from which +we can see her without being seen?" + +Cap'n Mike thought it over. "Yep," he said at last. "There is. There's +a dredger tied up at the pier just south of the fish wharf, and Brad +always berths in the same place, south side. I know the skipper of the +dredger. We can sort of drop in on him and take a look from there. +That suit?" + +"That will be fine," Rick replied. "But we may have a long wait if +Brad's at Creek House." + +"Wouldn't be surprised," Cap'n Mike nodded. "Likely two hours. What +say you come into my shack? Might be able to scare up a sandwich or +two to pass away the time." + +Rick looked at Jerry doubtfully. "There's a paper tomorrow morning. +Don't you have to get back and help get it out?" + +"Not tonight." Jerry grinned his pleasure. "Duke said to stick with +you two and forget everything else. First time I've had an assignment +like this. I have to admit I sort of like it." + +"Good," Cap'n Mike grunted. "Then let's go see what we can find to +eat. I got so interested in watching for Brad Marbek that I plumb +forgot about food." + + * * * * * + +It was after eleven when the four left the shack and climbed into +Jerry's car for the short ride to the pier. At Scotty's suggestion, +they parked the car on the edge of town and walked to the dock where +the dredger was tied up. They stayed in the shadows, hopeful that they +would not be seen, and Rick thought they reached the dredge without +attracting attention. + +The dredge was deserted, but Cap'n Mike made himself at home. He led +the boys into the wheelhouse, a small shack on the aft end, and they +took places at the windows. They had arrived too early, as it +developed. It was a full half-hour before the _Albatross_ rounded the +fish pier and steamed into her berth. The pier workers were gathered +at the berth, obviously waiting impatiently. They had finished +unloading the last of the other trawlers a full fifteen minutes +before. + +Rick studied the rigging of the ship as it approached and memorized +the position of her running lights. The _Albatross_ had only one +distinctive feature; her crow's-nest, from which a lookout was kept +for schools of fish, was basket-shaped instead of being perfectly +round. The other trawlers, he had noted, had crow's-nests that looked +like barrels. He knew he wouldn't forget the way the nest narrowed +toward the bottom. + +The _Albatross_ was low in the water. As she slid into position and +threw out her lines, he saw clearly the Plimsoll mark on her bow. The +Plimsoll mark was a series of measurements in feet, running from the +maximum depth at which the ship should lie in the water down toward +the keel. By looking at it, the skipper could tell at once how much +load he had aboard. Now, the top figure was barely showing. + +Rick studied it, and his forehead creased. "That's funny," he said. +He pointed it out to the others. "She's full up. You'd think she would +be lighter after dropping off a load at Creek House." + +"You would for a fact," Cap'n Mike muttered. "What do you suppose +they're smuggling? Must be feathers. 'Cause if you added a few more +pounds to the load she's carrying now, she'd be awash." + +Rick felt a pang of doubt. Were they away off the beam on their +guesses about the Kelsos and the _Albatross_? The ship certainly would +be higher in the water had they unloaded cargo. + +"Maybe they didn't unload tonight," Scotty ventured. "It would be +smart of Marbek to just visit Creek House for nothing once in a while, +to throw off any watchers. That way, he could make his story about +visiting his relatives seem a little more plausible." + +Cap'n Mike had told them that was the story Brad was handing out to +those who dared question him about his visits to Creek House. + +Rick's face cleared. "That must be it," he agreed. "But look, if he +visited the Kelsos tonight, it doesn't look as though he would make +contact with his supply ship for a couple of days." + +"Suits me," Scotty stated. "I'm not overly anxious to go tooting off +into the wild black yonder in the Cub, if you come right down to it. +I'd rather Brad took his time, to let me get used to the idea." + +He had stated so neatly what Rick was feeling that he had to grin. He +had been wishing he had more confidence in his ability to land safely +at night. + +"Amen," he said fervently. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Night Flight + + +It seemed to Rick that his head scarcely had touched the pillow when +the ringing of the phone penetrated his slumber. The luminous dial of +his watch showed quarter past three. For an instant he shivered. The +ringing could mean only one thing. + +He heard the creaking of his bedspring and the soft pat of Scotty's +bare feet as his pal swung to the floor. Scotty had the faculty of +waking instantly and moving into action. By the time Rick reached the +hall, he was already lifting the phone from its cradle. + +"Yes?" he said softly. "Okay, Cap'n Mike. How long do you think it +will take him to get out past the fishing grounds? All right. Give us +a call about breakfast time and we'll let you know how we made out." + +The boys hurried to Rick's room. Rick snapped on the light and stood +blinking in its sudden glare. "What did he say?" + +"Brad just left. He was phoning from Jake's Grill. I guess that's the +only place in Seaford that's open all night." + +"My guess that he wouldn't go out tonight was certainly bum," Rick +said. "The smuggling business must be good. How long did he figure it +would take Brad to reach the other side of the fishing grounds?" + +"About an hour." + +Rick looked at his watch again. "That doesn't give him much time +before daybreak. It starts to get light at about half past four at +this time of year. Well, let's get dressed." + +Rick slipped into slacks and a heavy woolen shirt, because it would be +cold before dawn. Then he put on woolen socks and moccasins. He was +getting his motion-picture camera from the closet when Scotty came in, +fully dressed. Rick tucked an extra reel of infrared film into his +shirt pocket and grinned at his pal. + +"How's your nerve?" + +"Mine doesn't matter," Scotty returned cheerfully. "How's yours? +That's what counts." + +"We'll soon know." Rick paused as his mother called softly. "Yes, +Mom?" + +He walked to the door of his parents' bedroom. + +"Be very careful," Rick's mother cautioned. And Hartson Brant added, +"Don't forget distances look different at night, son, even with +landing lights." + +"I'll be careful," he promised. "We'll be back in a little while." + +He motioned to Scotty and then snapped out the lights and went down +the stairs. He left the camera on the porch and they walked to the +boat landing, hiking briskly because it was chilly. Their plan was to +take both boats to the Whiteside landing and leave one of them there, +to provide a means for getting back to the island after they had +landed at the airport. Probably it would have been more sensible to +have left the plane at the airport, too, but that meant a walk from +the boat landing and Rick hadn't been sure how much time they would +have. + +In a short while they were back at Spindrift. They picked up the +camera and walked past the orchard to where the Cub was parked, +looking a little unfamiliar with the landing lights shining in the +moonlight. + +Rick stopped for another look at the sky. He had studied it +periodically from the moment they left the house. There was a little +fair weather cumulus cloud scattered here and there, but nothing that +would interfere with visibility. There was a good moon, between a half +and three-quarters full. Rick would have preferred the brightest of +full moons, but he philosophized that he shouldn't expect maximum +conditions. + +A glance at his watch showed that slightly less than a half-hour had +elapsed since the phone call. It would be another half-hour before +Brad reached the probable contact point beyond the fishing grounds, +and it would take the Cub only about twelve minutes to reach it. There +was no use in starting just yet. He sat down on the grass under the +wing of the Cub and hurriedly stood up again. The dew already had +fallen and the grass was wet. + +Scotty chuckled. "Something bite you?" + +"Thought we could sit it out for a little while," Rick explained. "But +it's too wet." He knew he couldn't sit still, anyway. He wanted to get +into the air, to get the feel of things. "Crank 'er up," he requested. + +He slid into the pilot's seat and placed the camera beside him. +Scotty walked around to the front of the plane and started the engine. +Then, as Rick warmed it, he untied the tie ropes, removed the wheel +chocks, and got in. "Relax," he advised. + +"I'm trying to," Rick returned. "Buckle in. Here we go." He fastened +his seat belt and Scotty did likewise. + +The grass landing strip stretched ahead for a distance that seemed +much shorter in the moonlight. Rick glued his eyes to the point where +it ended and pushed forward on the throttle. He wouldn't need lights +for the takeoff. The plane shuddered and he released the brakes. The +tail came up and the Cub rolled, picking up speed rapidly, then lifted +smoothly from the grass. Airborne! + +The horizon was clearly defined and Rick breathed a sigh of relief. No +trouble in flying level now. Their only bad moment would come in +landing. He climbed to almost a thousand feet, then set a course for +Whiteside. He wanted to get a look at the airport approaches by night. +In a short space he saw the field beacon and then the red boundary +lights. He throttled back and let the nose drop, crossing the field at +less than two hundred feet. It looked easy. The tension left him and +he flew easily, automatically. He had been flying the Cub for so long +that it behaved like part of him, without conscious effort. He climbed +steadily in a shallow turn until his altimeter read two thousand feet +and he was heading out to sea. Far below, Spindrift Island was a dark +extension of the land, almost completely framed by silvery, moonlit +water. + +"Pretty," Scotty said. + +Rick nodded. He knew his mother and father were listening to the +plane's drone down there. They wouldn't sleep much until he was back. + +They had spent ten minutes making the long sweep over Whiteside. Rick +glanced at his watch, then banked around on the predetermined course. +He put the Cub in a slow climb. + +"We'll arrive a little north of the grounds," he said. "Watch for ship +lights. We may see the supply ship before we see Brad Marbek." + +"Maybe they've already met," Scotty remarked. + +Rick shook his head. "They can't have met yet. Brad would have to go +pretty far out. Otherwise, the trawlers going to fish would be able to +see him and his supply ship on the horizon." + +Scotty shivered. "It's getting cold." + +They were climbing steadily. The altimeter read slightly less than +four thousand feet. At that height, the men on the ships below +wouldn't know what kind of plane was overhead. They flew in silence +for several minutes, then Rick warned, "We're getting there." + +"I'm watching." Scotty had taken the binoculars from behind the seat +where they had been left. Suddenly he grabbed Rick's arm. "There. Dead +ahead." + +Rick banked the plane a little so he could see from the side window. +Far ahead and below, red lights and white lights twinkled against the +sheen of the sea. Some distance separated the lights and he knew he +was seeing both vessels. They had not yet met. His pulse began to +pound a little. He pulled back slightly on the control wheel and let +the Cub climb. + +"We'll continue straight on," he told Scotty. "Then we'll turn and +come back at a lower altitude." + +"Okay." Scotty leaned out into the slip stream and put the binoculars +on the lights. When the ships were behind, he pulled his head in again +and rubbed his cold face. "That other ship is a freighter, but not +very big. I'd say less than four thousand tons. It's probably a +coaster." + +Rick wondered, if it was a coastal vessel, why he hadn't found +anything in the New York paper at the _Morning Record_. It was +probable, he decided, that the ship was heading for some other port, +maybe Boston. + +"Funny," Scotty said. "The other ship is heading south." + +"South? No wonder we didn't find anything in the shipping news. +Listen, Scotty, what if that's just an American coaster? You know what +that would mean? That ship would have to rendezvous with some +ocean-going freighter, or maybe several of them." His voice hushed. +"What if we've run into something that's only a small part of a really +big smuggling ring?" + +His ready imagination pictured the coastal vessel sailing regularly +between Baltimore and Portland, Maine, meeting ocean-going smugglers +and in turn supplying small contraband runners like Brad Marbek and +the Kelsos all the way up and down the coast. + +"I expected some big ocean freighter," Scotty remarked. + +They had been flying steadily out to sea. Now Rick banked around so +Scotty could look through the glasses once more. + +"I can see them on the horizon," Scotty said, glasses to his eyes. +"They've met. The lights are almost together. Hey! The lights just +went out!" + +"Probably turned out so as not to attract the attention of any passing +ships," Rick guessed. "They can't see, as we can, that they're the +only ships around. We'll stall for a while before going back. Give +them time to get rigged for passing cargo." + +He lifted the camera to his lap, then trimmed the Cub so it would fly +by itself. Scotty took the power pack on his own lap and checked again +to see that the dynamo-driven spring was wound tight. + +Rick had connected the infrared attachment so that a switch was handy +under his thumb when his left hand held the camera in position. The +camera itself, run by its own spring, was operated by his right hand. +He pressed the infrared switch and heard the dynamo whine softly. +Scotty immediately wound it another half turn to bring the spring up +to full tension again. + +"Wish I had enough hours to do the flying," he said regretfully. "Then +you could photograph without worrying about the plane." + +Scotty had his license, but he had not yet accumulated the experience +that would fit him for an adventure like tonight's. Or rather this +morning's. + +Rick twisted the lens barrel, making sure it was full open, then he +twisted the focusing ring until it stopped. Now the camera was focused +on infinity. All he needed to do was aim and shoot. He looked at +Scotty. His friend's face was a white blur in the dimness inside the +plane. "Think we've given them enough time?" + +"I think so. They wouldn't need much. The supply ship would have cargo +booms all rigged and the first load in the cargo net. Better turn +back." + +Rick banked, letting the Cub slip as he did so. They lost altitude +rapidly and he watched the silvery sheen of the ocean resolve itself +into waves. There was not enough wind to make foam or whitecaps. The +two ships would have no trouble coming alongside and moving cargo. He +leveled off at five hundred feet on a course that would take them +directly over the vessels. + +Both boys strained to see ahead, and both saw the blurred outline on +the horizon at the same time. Gradually the outline became clearer +until finally they flashed directly over the two ships. + +"Here we go," Rick said, and the calmness of his voice surprised him. +He rocked the Cub up in a tight bank that would take them in a narrow +circle with the ships at the center. His hands made delicate +adjustments in the plane's balance so that it would practically fly +itself. His feet were light on the rudder pedals. He lifted his hand +from the wheel and the Cub held course without a waver. + +"Now," he said. He took the camera and pressed it to his cheek, +gripping it firmly. His eye found the telescope and he pressed the +infrared switch. + +Scotty's hand was poised, ready to grab the control wheel if the plane +started to slip. The power pack was held tightly between his knees, +and his right hand was on the winding handle. + +The scene lighted up for Rick. He saw four men on the trawler's deck, +looking up at him. He saw the cargo net suspended almost over their +heads, and he saw men on the deck of the freighter. His right index +finger pressed and the camera started to roll. + +The Cub held its tight circle and Rick kept his finger down. Then he +felt the camera stop and knew it had to be wound. Swiftly he shifted +balance and turned the winding handle until the spring was at full +tension again. But his shifting of weight had disturbed the plane's +delicate balance. He had to put the camera down and work the tab +controls that trimmed the plane with his left hand while his right +kept it steady. + +It took a few moments. Meanwhile, Scotty had wound the dynamo tight +once more. When Rick looked out, the cargo net was no longer in sight. +The men on the freighter's deck were bent over another cargo net, +working at cases that evidently were heavy. Rick kept the camera on +them, shooting steadily, rewinding when necessary. Then he shifted his +view to the trawler. The men were standing over a gaping fish hatch. +Evidently they were stowing the first load while the men on the +freighter prepared the second. + +"I have enough," Rick said finally. There was nothing more to be seen, +unless they wanted to wait for the second load to change ships. + +"How much footage did you get?" Scotty asked. + +"About fifty feet, maybe a little less." + +"That ought to be enough. Let's go home." + +Rick swung the Cub in a circle until they were facing the direction of +the mainland according to compass reading, then he leveled off. "I +wonder what they thought about the plane overhead," he said. + +"It probably scared them stiff," Scotty replied. "Chances are Brad +Marbek had a good idea who it was." + +The one thing they had overlooked in their plan was Brad's possible +reaction to seeing the plane, Rick realized suddenly. Great grinning +goldfish! What if he really got scared? They might have defeated +their own purpose by making him jettison his contraband! + +Then he reasoned that Brad wouldn't dump his cargo if he could help +it. Anything worth smuggling was too valuable to be dumped just +because two kids saw it transferred. But still . . . + +"If I were Brad," he said, "I'd get up a full head of steam for Creek +House and unload that stuff. How about you?" + +"Because you'd be afraid those two wild men in the airplane would +report it to the police? Maybe you're right, Rick. We'd better get +Captain Douglas and his men on the job right away!" + +The street lights of Whiteside were in sight now. Rick took a bearing +from them and swung slightly northward to pick up the airport. Then he +saw the beacon. He had not bothered to climb after leaving the ships, +so he passed over Spindrift at an altitude of five hundred feet. He +knew his parents would hear the Cub and know he had returned this far +safely. His palms were moist with perspiration and he had to swallow +to clear his throat. Now that the moment of landing was here, his +nervousness was returning. He leaned forward, watching for the airport +marker lights and saw them directly ahead. The airport wasn't big or +important enough to rate runway lights or a lighted wind sock, but +those wouldn't have helped much anyway. He knew from watching the sea +that the wind was negligible. And anywhere he landed on the field +would be all right. + +He throttled down and the nose automatically dropped to the correct +glide position. Then, as he saw the red marker lights rushing to meet +him, he threw on the landing lights. White swaths of light picked out +trees and the boundary fence. The Cub flashed across into the open, +dropping steadily. The ground seemed to come up appallingly fast, but +Rick kept his nerve. It was only an illusion, he knew. The Cub was at +the correct approach angle. But the illusion made it hard to tell when +to level off. He waited a second too long, and his wheels touched and +the Cub bounced. He threw power into the engine and the little plane +lifted into the air once more. + +"Tricky," he muttered when Scotty looked at him. + +Scotty sat up a little straighter. "You're telling me?" + +Rick went around the airport again and banked around tightly into the +approach. His jaw was set firmly and he watched the field so closely +that his eyes watered. He'd make it this time! He cut the gun and the +nose dropped. He waited as the runway came up, trying to gauge his +height by the grass that showed clearly in the landing lights. Slowly +he eased the control wheel back and the plane leveled off. Slowly and +more slowly. They were eating up runway rapidly. Scotty shot him an +anxious look. Then, with feather lightness, the wheels touched. The +tail settled gracefully and they were on the ground. Rick applied the +brakes and the Cub slowed to a stop. He wiped his forehead. + +Scotty leaned over and solemnly shook hands. + +Rick gave the plane the gun again and taxied rapidly to the hangar, +switching out his lights as he went. + +Made it, he thought jubilantly. First night flight, safely over. And +that's not all. We got what we went after! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +Enter the Police + + +Duke Barrows was waiting at the hangar when Rick and Scotty got out of +the Cub. "I can see the headlines now," he greeted them with a grin. +"Young Birdmen Fly by Night. Subhead: Get Up Early to Catch Worms Who +Break Law." + +"Speaking of getting up early," Rick retorted. He pointed to where +growing paleness in the east announced the coming of daylight. "How +did you know we'd be landing?" + +"My house is near here," Duke reminded them. "I heard you buzz the +field a while ago and I knew you must have gotten the call. So I +dressed and came over. I hadn't gone to sleep after getting home, +anyway. Editors of morning papers are night owls, remember. Well, how +did it go?" + +Rick reached into the Cub and drew out his camera. He held it up +triumphantly. "The evidence is in here," he said happily. "We caught +'em in the act, Duke." Then he sobered. "But we're worried." He told +the editor about their misgivings. + +"Hmmmm." Barrows gazed at the night sky reflectively. "I agree that +Marbek probably wouldn't throw the stuff overboard, but he might +streak for port. I think we'd better give Captain Douglas a call. We +want state troopers waiting at Creek House when the _Albatross_ +arrives." + +Scotty groaned. "If they go now, that means we won't get any sleep." + +"You hadn't better plan on going with the troopers," Duke said. "They +probably prefer to handle things their own way. Besides, it might mean +waiting all day. I'd say it was more important for you to get that +film developed. I don't suppose you saw the name of the ship Marbek +was getting his stuff from?" + +"I didn't even think about it," Rick confessed. "I planned to, then +when the time came it slipped my mind completely. I was too busy +flying the plane and taking pictures." + +Duke looked at the camera curiously. Rick had described it to him. +"It's hard to believe that you actually got pictures at night. I'm +anxious to see them." + +"Me, too," Scotty agreed. + +"Let's get organized," Barrows said. "First of all, how do you plan to +get the film developed?" + +"There's a lab in New York that gives 24-hour service. They can +develop infrared, too. I hate to think how much they will charge me." + +"Can individual frames of the film be blown up and made into decent +pictures?" + +Rick nodded. "The result looks a little grainy, but it can be done." + +"All right. Give me exclusive rights to use the pictures and the +paper will pay for them. Let me have the film and the address of the +lab. I'll send Jerry to New York with them first thing this morning. +Then we can have them back tomorrow. Is that okay with you?" + +"Swell." + +"Good. Now let's hop into my car and take a run over to the State +Police Barracks. We'll get Captain Douglas out of bed and you can tell +him your story. He'll know how to carry the ball from there." + +Scotty got the binoculars from the Cub. He and Rick staked the plane +down, then hurried to the editor's car. + +The police barracks were just outside of town on the Newark turnpike. +Captain Douglas was in bed, but he got up quickly enough when the +sergeant on duty gave him the names of the three visitors. Rick +described their night's work while the officer finished dressing. When +he had finished, Captain Douglas, a strapping man who had been a +Marine officer before retiring and joining the state force, nodded +briskly. + +"Good work, Rick. I want to see that film the minute you know whether +your camera worked well enough for evidence. Now, m'lads, I've got to +get to work. Instead of barging into Creek House with sirens wailing, +I just think I'll put a pair of my boys in civilian clothes on the +job, one on the water front and the other at the bridge. I have a pair +of squad cars without insignia or state license plates that will be +useful, and both of them are radio-equipped. The minute this trawler +shows up, we'll know about it and we'll move in on them. I'll ask for +a search warrant soon as I can get someone on the phone at the main +office. How does that strike you?" + +"It sounds all right," Rick said. "But where do we come in?" + +"You don't," Captain Douglas retorted. "You go home and go to bed. The +only thing you could do would be to hang around here all day waiting, +because we couldn't let you go to Seaford and perhaps tip off the gang +by accident. They must know it was your plane, and they're crazy if +they don't assume you'll call the police. If no police show up and you +don't either, it may lull their suspicions somewhat. Tell you what. +I'll phone Duke, or have the desk man do it, the minute we hear +anything and he can phone you." + +And with that, the two boys had to be content. Rick ran the rest of +the film through his camera, unloaded it, and handed the can of film +to Duke Barrows. The editor drove them to the boat landing. "With any +luck," he said as they got from the car, "we may let folks read all +about it within a couple of days. See you later, fellows." + +Although it was scarcely daylight, Mr. and Mrs. Brant were already up +and having an early breakfast. Rick knew it was just that they had +worried about Scotty and him, and he felt a little thrill of pride in +them. Even though they had worried, they had confidence in him and so +they had let him go. He was glad that he and Scotty always had played +square with them, sharing their adventures and discussing their +problems. + +Over breakfast, the boys related the story of their night flight while +the Brants listened with interest. "It wasn't bad at all," Rick +finished. "I did have one tough moment when we landed the first time, +because I was a little too tense. But the second time was smooth as +anything." + +"I'm glad you went right to Ed Douglas," Hartson Brant said +approvingly. "These kinds of jobs belong to the law, Rick. An amateur +can go only so far, and then if he's wise, he calls the police." + +They had barely finished breakfast when the phone rang. It was Cap'n +Mike. He said that he had been standing on first one leg then the +other ever since he first phoned, and would they please tell him what +had happened. + +Scotty obliged with a dramatic report and Cap'n Mike exclaimed his +delight so loudly that Rick could hear him half the room away. Scotty +hung up and grinned. "He's going to sort of wander over to that part +of town himself, just to keep track of what's going on." + +"Hope he doesn't attract any attention," Rick said. + +"He's too smart for that. Well, what now? To bed to catch up on that +sleep we missed?" + +Rick couldn't have slept a wink, and he said as much. He was too wound +up. "Let's go back to Whiteside," he suggested. "It's full daylight +now and one of us might as well bring the Cub back." + +"I'll do it," Scotty offered. "You've been getting all the practice, +and you're the one who doesn't need it." + +On the way over by boat, Rick reviewed again the events of the night. +"Funny that the freighter was heading south," he said. In the cold +light of day, his speculation that there might be a whole smuggling +ring up and down the coast didn't look too sensible. "Of course she +may have reached there before Brad showed up and circled while she was +waiting. We didn't hang around to see if she headed north again after +they finished unloading." + +"That could be it," Scotty nodded. "Probably is. Listen, what happens +to the freighter if the police catch Brad with the goods?" + +"Can't say. Ordinarily, I'd think the police would call for the Coast +Guard to go intercept them. But we're not sure of the identity of the +ship." + +"We missed there," Scotty said. "Has it occurred to you that we're +going to be the star witnesses if this comes to trial?" + +Rick shook his head. "Not necessarily. If the State Police catch Brad +and the Kelsos with the goods, they won't need us for anything. But if +they identify the ship that supplied them, they may need us there." + +"Unless it's a foreign ship." + +"What do you mean?" + +"They were outside the twelve-mile limit," Scotty pointed out. "That's +the high seas. I'm not up on my international law, but I doubt if the +United States could do much about something done by a foreign ship on +the high seas." + +"Never thought of that," Rick admitted. + +He dropped Scotty at the landing, then turned the launch back to +Spindrift. Once in his own room, however, he was too restless to do +anything, even to sleep. He walked out to the lab building and sat +down on the steps, looking out to sea. It was a beautiful morning. +Soon as Scotty got back he would suggest a swim. + +In a short time he looked up to see Scotty approaching from Whiteside. +He watched critically as Scotty swung wide and banked into the +approach over the lab building, then settled smoothly to the grass. He +nodded approval. Scotty was a natural flier. He excelled at anything +requiring a high degree of co-ordination between body and mind. + +Rick walked to meet him. "What kept you?" + +Scotty climbed out and they staked the plane down. "Jerry picked me up +on the way to the airport. We talked for a while. He had the film and +was taking it into New York." + +Both of them walked with less spring in their steps than usual. +Knowing that nothing was in sight but waiting was a letdown after the +activity of the predawn hours. But Captain Douglas had spoken and that +was that. + +"Wonder if we'll ever be able to prove that the Kelsos wrecked the +_Sea Belle_?" Rick mused. "Even if the police catch them cold on a +smuggling charge that won't necessarily tie them up with Captain +Tyler." + +"That's right." Scotty bent and plucked a sprig of mint from the patch +next to the house and chewed it absently. "But we'll be able to show +motive and method once they're in jail and Tyler can talk. And with +Captain Killian's evidence, that will clear Tyler anyway. Why should +we worry whether the Kelsos get caught for that as long as he's +cleared? We'll have them on the smuggling charge." + +"I guess so." Rick felt tired. "How about a quick swim? Then we can +crawl into bed and take a nap." + +"Good idea. What are we waiting for?" + +The water was too good to abandon after a few quick dips, however, and +they alternately swam and lazed in the sun until lunchtime. Only after +a good lunch of several sandwiches and almost a quart of milk apiece +did they feel like taking a nap. Then Rick said, "No word. I guess +that does it. Either Brad is ignoring our flying over him or he has +dumped his cargo. I'd like to know which. Otherwise, he would have put +into Creek House long ago." + +"Looks that way. But I'm too drowsy to care. Go on to bed and let me +do likewise. We'll know soon enough what happened." + +Rick undressed, drew his shades and crawled in, luxuriating in the +comfort of cool sheets. But it wasn't easy to drop off to sleep. His +active mind persisted in going over and over the events at Seaford +like a record stuck in a groove, but after a while he slept. + +He didn't even hear the phone when it rang. Scotty had to wake him. +Then, drowsily, he and Scotty went down the hall. + +"It's Mr. Barrows," Mrs. Brant called from below. + +"I'll take it," Rick said. He picked up the phone. "This is Rick, +Duke." + +"Bad news," the editor said. "It's all over, and nothing came out of +it." + +Rick woke up sharply. "What? But, Duke, we saw them load!" + +"Tough luck. Brad came in at the usual time and Douglas was waiting +for him. They went over that ship from stem to stern and didn't turn +up a single thing." + +Rick realized that it was dark outside. Mother had let them sleep +right through dinner. + +"But the crates in the marsh," he exclaimed. "How about those?" + +"Gone," Duke said. "There wasn't a thing but flattened reeds and muddy +water." + +Scotty had been holding his ear close to the phone. "Brad must have +jettisoned his cargo," he said. "We didn't think he would." + +Duke heard him. "Was that Scotty? Well, Rick, if the pictures prove +out, we'll know he must have thrown the stuff overboard. Captain +Douglas has faith in you. He says not to be discouraged." + +"Thanks," Rick said hollowly. + +"Oh, one other item of news. I talked with the agent who rented the +Creek House to the Kelsos. They've given him notice that they're +moving out next Saturday. What do you think about that?" + +Rick's shoulders slumped. "Unless they try to pull something between +now and then, we're sunk. Duke, do you realize this may have been +their last load? We might have scared them off with flying over Brad +and then having the police raid them." + +"I'm afraid so, too. But Captain Douglas says they seemed pretty smug. +They may try it again. By the way, Jerry says the film will be ready +at five tomorrow night. I'll send him into New York early tomorrow and +he can do a few errands for me, then pick up the film on his way +home." + +"Thanks, Duke," Rick said. He replaced the receiver and looked at +Scotty. "Did you get all that?" + +Scotty nodded silently. + +Mrs. Brant called from downstairs. "I saved dinner for you, boys. Want +to come get it now?" + +"Right away," Rick called. "Thanks, Mom." + +He and Scotty slipped robes over their pajamas and walked slowly down +the stairs. Neither of them felt much like eating after the phone +call. They had, with undue optimism, written the case off as +practically closed. But now everything seemed as far from a solution +as ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Brendan's Marsh + + +Rick stared out the window at the gathering dusk. "I'd like to know +what's taking Jerry so long with those pictures," he grumbled. "He +should have been here an hour ago." + +Scotty had been trying to read a book. He gave it up as a bad job and +joined Rick at the window. "Maybe he stopped for dinner," he said. + +"I'll put ground glass in his cake next time he comes to dinner if he +has," Rick threatened. + +Jerry had phoned before leaving for New York earlier in the day. After +consultation with Duke, they had agreed that Jerry would bring the +pictures directly to the island, and that Rick and Scotty would leave +the boat at the landing for him to use. + +The editor was as anxious as any of them to see the pictures, but, as +he pointed out, there was no longer any special haste, and he +preferred not to have both himself and Jerry away from the paper at +the same time, especially in the very early or very late evening when +the wire service newscasts were coming in. + +Rick had agreed. He planned to project the film, choose the single +frames that would be the most useful, rephotograph them, and make +enlargements for Duke and Captain Douglas. The rephotographing was +done with a special, inexpensive device that could be purchased at any +photo supply store. + +Scotty opened the window wider and stuck his head out. "Thought I +heard something." + +Rick looked at his watch. It was shortly after eight. "Let's take the +glasses and walk out to the north side," he said. "It won't be +completely dark until around nine, and we'll be able to see him +coming." + +"Wait a minute." Scotty held up his hand. "There. I thought I heard +something. He's coming now. I recognize the launch motor." + +Rick started for the door, then he hesitated. "You go meet him. I'll +get the projector set up in the library." + +He ran down the stairs and called, "Mother. Dad. Jerry's coming with +the pictures." Then he hurried into the library, took his folding +screen from the closet and set it up. He got the projector from its +case, plugged it in, using his father's desk as a table, and put on +the take-up reel. He finished focusing just as Scotty and Jerry burst +into the room. Mr. and Mrs. Brant were right behind them. + +"Got a clogged gas line," Jerry explained breathlessly. "I finally got +a man to push me to the nearest gas station. We took the gas line off +at the carburetor and blew it out with compressed air. I didn't dare +take time to find out what had clogged it, because I knew you'd lynch +me." + +"You're forgiven," Rick said. He had already taken the film from +Jerry and was threading it through the projector gate. He inserted the +loose end in the take-up reel and motioned to Scotty. "Here we go." + +Scotty snapped out the light and Rick started the projector. White +leader ran through the gate, then suddenly, clear as day, there were +two ships below, their center sections brightly illuminated and the +rest fading out slightly toward what had been the edges of the +infrared beam. + +"Excellent, Rick," Hartson Brant said. "Good work, son! That's much +better than I had hoped." + +"Same here, Dad," Rick said, eyes on the screen. The ships appeared to +be whirling slowly, the result of his having taken the picture while +circling in a tight bank. He could see the men on the decks clearly, +and even thought he recognized Brad Marbek. Then, as the angle +changed, he saw Marbek clearly, waving his arm. + +"What flag is that?" Scotty asked suddenly. "There, on the stern of +the freighter." + +The flag was limp because there had been no breeze to speak of, but +part of the design was clear. "I have it," Hartson Brant exclaimed. +"That ship is of Caribbean registry." He named the country, then said, +"Look for the name of the ship." + +But the angle was wrong for that. The name was not within the camera's +view, on either stern or bow. + +The film was running out rapidly now. Rick watched the cargo net swing +over, full of wooden cases, and drop on the deck of the freighter. For +a moment it didn't register, then he yelled. "Hey! Ohmigolly! Did you +see that?" He threw the reverse switch and the film ran backward. The +net lifted from the deck of the freighter and swung toward the +_Albatross_. Then he ran it forward again and watched the load settle +to the freighter's deck. + +Scotty yelled, too. "What a pair of chuckleheads! Rick, no wonder we +didn't find anything on the _Albatross_ and neither did Captain +Douglas! They're smuggling stuff _out!_ Not in!" + +The Plimsoll mark! The _Albatross_ had been heavily loaded because +Brad Marbek had _taken on the load at Creek House he would deliver +later to the freighter_. + +That was why no ships had been listed in the New York paper as being +in the right area at the right time. They had looked for arrival +times, not sailing times. + +That was why the cache of cases was no longer in the marsh behind +Creek House. These pictures were of those cases being loaded on the +freighter! + +The picture ran through and white light flashed on the screen. Scotty +snapped the lights on. + +"We've got to get these pictures to Captain Douglas," Rick exclaimed. +"I'll hurry and rephotograph them right away. It will only take a +moment." + +He hastily rewound the film while Scotty ran ahead to the photo lab. +Hartson Brant said, "Ed will be glad to get those, Rick. But don't get +your hopes too high. The pictures don't show any contraband in those +cases, and that's what you'll need." + +"I know, Dad," Rick replied. "But at least we know now why we've +always been wrong. We were backwards!" + +He hurriedly excused himself, then he and Jerry hurried after Scotty. + +Scotty already had loaded the rephotographing camera with film and +screwed a photo flood bulb into a convenient receptacle. It took Rick +only ten minutes to select the frames he wanted to rephotograph and +finish the operation. Then he gave the rephotographing camera to +Scotty who wound the film all the way through and took it out. + +"Let's develop it," he said, and reached for the shelf to take down a +small developing tank. + +"Wait!" An idea struck Rick. "How do we know Brad isn't going to load +again tonight? Remember the Kelsos have only a few more days at Creek +House." + +Jerry snapped his fingers. "That's right! And I'll bet they're +gloating over hoodwinking the State Police, too. They wouldn't be +afraid to ship _out_ another load, particularly since they know +they're suspected of smuggling stuff _in_ and it might be their last +chance." + +"We can't risk it," Rick said decisively. "We'll take this film to +Whiteside and have the photographer at the paper develop it. How about +that, Jerry?" The reporter nodded agreement and he continued, "While +it's being developed, we can go through the New York papers again and +find out if a ship of Caribbean registry is sailing. About midnight +would be right for a sailing time." + +Scotty reached for the light. "We'd better hurry." He snapped it out +and led the way through the door. He and Jerry went directly to the +boat landing while Rick ran upstairs and picked up his infrared +camera, just in case. If the police raided Creek House tonight, he +intended to be on hand. + +Scotty had chosen the fast speedboat and already had the engine +turning over. Rick jumped aboard and they roared toward Whiteside. At +the dock they transferred to Jerry's car and sped through the streets +to the newspaper office. Duke Barrows had just finished with the early +newscast and, taking advantage of the lull, had gone home for dinner; +he would return in about an hour, the photographer said. He was the +only man in the office. Jerry gave him the roll of film on which Rick +had rephotographed the critical scenes from the movie and asked for +two enlargements of each. + +"It's urgent," he said. "Duke will want to see these when he gets +back." + +"He'll have 'em." The photographer headed for the darkroom. + +Rick and Scotty didn't wait any longer. They took the file of New York +papers from the rack and hurriedly leafed through them to the proper +dates. + +"Here's one!" Rick found a pencil and jotted down the name of the ship +and its owner. The next date disclosed a ship of the same registry and +owner, but with a different name. They worked rapidly and it took only +a few minutes now that they knew what to look for, and presently they +had the job completed. Jerry, who had been phoning Duke, joined them +and looked over Rick's shoulder as he read aloud. + +"All the same company and registry. It's the Compania Maritima Caribe +y Atlantica." He stumbled a little over the Spanish name. This was +good evidence. He looked at his friends, eyes shining. "Now for +today's paper. Got it Jerry?" + +The reporter found it on Duke's desk and they spread it out on a +table. Three heads bent over it. There was no ship of that company and +registry listed as sailing tonight. Then Scotty spotted a separate +listing of ships now loading. + +"Got one! But it's scheduled to sail night after tomorrow. And look! +It's the same ship that was here two weeks ago!" + +Rick sat down at Jerry's desk. He still couldn't escape the feeling of +urgency. He had played his hunches before and he did so now. He leaned +over and picked up a copy of the New York phone directory. With the +others watching curiously, he leafed through it, found the right page +and ran his finger down it until he had the number, then he picked up +Jerry's phone and called it. + +While the operator made the connection, he held his hand over the +mouthpiece. "A hunch. The shipping offices are closed now, but the +Port Director at New York will know." + +A female voice said, "Port of New York Authority." + +"Information on ship sailings, please," Rick requested. + +The operator rang an extension and a male voice answered. + +"I know you don't usually bother with information of this kind," Rick +said, "but this is the Whiteside _Morning Record_ and we need it for +tomorrow's edition. I'd like to know if there is any correction on the +sailing date of this ship." He read off the name and company and the +pier number. + +"Just a minute, Whiteside. I'll be glad to look it up." + +Rick waited tensely. + +"Here it is. That ship was supposed to sail Friday night, but the +sailing has been moved up. She leaves tonight at midnight." + +"Thanks," Rick said. "Thanks!" He hung up and turned to his friends. +"Tonight's the night! I had a hunch something was up. Of course Brad +and the Kelsos would have the sailing moved up, because they're +frightened. I'll bet tonight will be their last load, then the Kelsos +will clear out and Brad will go back to just fishing." + +"Tonight or never," Scotty echoed. "What do we do now?" + +"Call Captain Douglas." Rick picked up the phone again and asked for +State Police headquarters. There was a little delay while the officer +was called to the phone, then Rick quickly outlined their findings +from the movie film and the New York paper. "If we get down there, we +can catch them in the act of loading," he said. "How about it, +Captain?" + +Captain Douglas hesitated. "I hate to stick my neck out again after +last night, but this looks like a sure thing. We'll need a search +warrant, Rick, and it will take a little time to rout out a judge. And +I'll have to see the pictures first. We have to show cause when we get +a warrant, you know, and the judge will be a little reluctant after +last night." + +"The pictures are being printed now," Rick told him. "You can have +them in a little while." + +"Right. I'll round up the men I need and bring them with me. And I'll +get the judge on the phone and ask him to make out the warrant and +promise to show him the evidence when I pick it up." + +"How long will it take?" Rick asked. + +"We'll be on our way in an hour. I'll get going right now." + +The captain hung up. Rick looked at his watch and then at the rapidly +fading light outside. "They won't be in time," he said desperately. +"If they rush the loading, they can have the _Albatross_ out of there. +Then what happens? They'll have to get another warrant to search the +trawler at the pier, and there won't be any evidence to tie the cargo +up with the Kelsos!" + +Scotty held up the infrared camera. "Unless we get it," he said. + +Rick's eyes widened. Go back to Creek House? But even as he shuddered +at the thought of what would happen to them if they were caught again, +he knew there was no other way. + +"Jerry," he said crisply, "we're going on ahead. Run us down to the +dock and we'll get started. Then you come back here and wait for +Captain Douglas and Duke. Give them the pictures and this dope from +the shipping news, and for the love of Rick and Scotty, tell them to +step on it when they start for Seaford!" + +Jerry protested halfheartedly as they sped to the dock, but they +convinced him it would be better for him to wait and impress on the +others the need for speed. He dropped them at the speedboat with a +plea to be careful, then headed back to the office. + +Scotty got behind the wheel while Rick cast off and they roared out to +sea with the throttle wide open. The speedboat climbed to the step and +planed along like a racer, leaving a foaming wake. Then, as they +passed Spindrift Island and met rougher water, it began to bounce +from one wave crest to the next. Spray swirled over the windshield and +into the boat. Scotty started the wipers. Rick crouched down under the +dashboard and rechecked his camera, trying out the infrared dynamo and +the camera motor. Just to be on the safe side, he had brought the +camera case, which contained the extra film and a tripod. Now he got +the tripod ready but waited to see what would happen before he placed +the camera on it. + +He sat back in the seat, satisfied that everything was in readiness, +and looked around him. Suddenly he stiffened. There were ship running +lights on the horizon. The trawler fleet was returning to Seaford, and +Brad Marbek would be among them! He leaned over and switched out their +own running lights. + +Scotty glanced around, saw the masthead lights, and nodded his +understanding. + +"Better make a plan," he suggested. "What do we do when we get there?" + +"Stick our heads into the lion's mouth," Rick replied unhappily. "I +hate to try getting into the Creek House grounds again after last +time!" + +"Do we have to? How about watching from the boat?" + +"We couldn't get near enough without being seen. Wait! We could at +that!" Rick struggled to remember details of the photo they had taken +showing the marsh opposite Creek House. "We could go into the marsh. +Remember that inlet nearest the creek? That branched off in the right +direction. There are emergency oars in this and we could use them as +poles and shove our way in. We might get close enough." + +"And if we don't, we can wade the rest of the way." Scotty leaned over +and wiped mist from the windshield. "Good idea." He laughed, without +mirth. "Brad and the two redheads would have a fine time chasing us +through the swamp. Here's one pigeon they'd never catch." + +"Make it two pigeons," Rick corrected. + +They were making good time, even though the slapping of the speedboat +over the rough water was giving them a bad jouncing. They roared past +the last group of summer cottages before Brendan's Marsh, leaving a +wake that set the boats anchored near the shore to rocking. + +At Rick's suggestion, Scotty throttled down as they swept along the +edge of the marsh. The noise of the wide-open engine might be heard at +Creek House and arouse suspicion. Then, as Smugglers' Light neared and +they knew they were getting close, Scotty throttled down still more. +Rick unlashed the pair of oars from their position along the gunwale +and got them ready. It was fully dark now and difficult to see, +although the moon was rising. + +Scotty leaned over and cut the ignition. "Don't dare to use the engine +any nearer than this," he said, his voice low. + +Rick saw that they were perilously near the creek mouth. He turned to +look at the incoming trawlers and saw the nearest one almost abeam of +them a quarter mile out. "Watch for that inlet," he whispered. "And +let's get into the next seat back. The windshield will interfere if we +try to paddle from here." He hadn't rigged the oarlocks, knowing they +would be unable to row in the narrow inlet. They would have to use +the oars as paddles. + +They climbed over the seat back and each took an oar, kneeling like +canoeists. Rick was on the inland side, and he saw the inlet mouth +first. "Here," he whispered, and backed water with his oar. The bow of +the boat swung around. + +Rushes and marsh grass scraped past them. The lights of Creek House +were still invisible. Rick strained his eyes to see; it was almost +inky black in the tall rushes. Then Scotty reached out and felt with +his oar. + +"Left turn," he whispered. He had found the inlet branch that led +toward the hotel. Now he backed water, trying not to splash, while +Rick poled ahead. The boat swung into the narrow channel, reeds +touching it on both sides and making a hissing noise as they +progressed. + +"Only a few feet of water," Rick said softly. "And mud at the bottom." +Each time he lifted his oar he felt the weight of a ball of muck on +the end. + +The boat slid gently to a stop. Both boys put their weight on the +oars, but it moved only two feet ahead then stopped once more. They +put their heads together and discussed it in a low whisper because +they were near the creek. + +"We're aground," Scotty said. + +"Guess we get out and walk," Rick returned. "Better take our shoes and +socks off. It will be muddy." + +"We'll be lucky if we don't sink in up to our necks." + +Scotty took his arm suddenly. Rick started to ask what was the matter, +then he heard it, too. The cough of a Diesel engine exhaust and the +clanking of gear told him that a ship was nearing. A shiver ran +through him. Brad Marbek, coming in to load! + +"Let's step on it, he whispered. He sat down and removed his shoes and +socks, then climbed up on the gunwale and walked forward, brushing +against the rushes but trying not to make too much noise. He took his +oar and shoved straight down from the bow. There was about a foot of +water, then another eighteen inches of mud before the bottom firmed. +It would be hard going. He started back, but Scotty came to meet him, +carrying the camera and power pack. + +"The tripod," Rick requested in a low whisper. "If the ground is so +soft I can't get a firm stance, I'll need it." + +Scotty handed him the equipment, then went back and got the tripod. +Rick screwed the camera into place with a few turns of the tripod nut. +Scotty disconnected the power cord that led from the power pack to the +camera and coiled it up. They could reconnect it when they needed it. +Meanwhile, it would interfere with their progress. He slung the power +pack over his shoulder. + +Rick put the camera and tripod on the deck, then turned his back to +the creek and lowered himself. The water was cold and the muck seemed +to reach up for him. He felt firmer ground under his toes and let +himself go, then held his hands within reach of the boat as he +continued to sink. He was up to his thighs when the ground finally +held. He reached up and took the camera, holding it high in the air, +and started forward. + +Each step was an effort. He had to lift his leg high before each step, +and the mud clung. Behind him, he heard the sucking, splashing, of +Scotty's progress. + +Then the ground began to get firmer until at last there was only a +thin film of water and about a foot of mud. The lights of Creek House +could be seen through the rushes now. He held up his hand as a warning +to Scotty. They were close to the bank. In a moment he parted the +reeds and looked through. Scotty moved to his side. The _Albatross_ +was tying up at Creek House pier, and Brad Marbek was just leaping to +the dock where the Kelsos waited. But the boys were too far down +toward the creek mouth. They would have to move along the bank. Rick +gave Scotty a little push in that direction and Scotty understood. He +went back into the marsh a few feet, then led the way. + +It was easier going, but still far from pleasant. The muck gave every +step a slurping sound, and it clung in gobs. Then the vantage point +Scotty selected was reached, directly opposite the pier. They parted +the rushes slightly and looked out. + +The crew of the _Albatross_ was climbing down under the pier. As the +boys watched, they poled out a shallow-draft, broad-beamed rowboat +about fifteen feet long. It was the barge on which the contraband had +waited in the swamp. + +Rick put his lips to Scotty's ear. "Wonder why Captain Douglas didn't +see that?" + +"He probably did. It wouldn't mean anything with the cargo gone." + +Sensible, Rick thought. There would have been no occasion for the +captain to mention it. He searched for a bit of firmer ground on which +to rest the camera and found it. He began to worry about the hum of +the dynamo. Would it be heard when they turned it on? And the +filament of the infrared searchlight would be visible, too, against +the dark background of the marsh. Did they dare try it? + +The crew of the _Albatross_ was in the flatboat--it scarcely could be +called a rowboat--already heading upstream. The Kelsos and Marbek +walked toward the house. + +Good! That would give them a chance to try the camera. Rick waited +impatiently until the boat rounded the turn leading to Salt Creek +Bridge, then he sighted in on the _Albatross_, checked his settings, +and started both the camera and infrared light. The dynamo and camera +motor hummed quietly. He breathed a sigh of relief. Surely that much +sound would blend imperceptibly with the normal night noises. Peepers +in the fresher water upstream made more noise than that. He walked +ahead of the camera and peered into the infrared searchlight. If +anyone looked real closely, they might see it. He hoped the men on the +opposite shore would be too busy to glance his way. + +He switched off the mechanism and settled down to wait. His trousers +were wet and heavy with mud, and his legs and feet were chilled. +Mosquitoes whined around his head and little gnats settled down for a +meal on his exposed neck and head. He began to wonder if it was worth +it. + +Carrots Kelso came out of the house, and he had his rifle. The boys +watched as he disappeared behind the hotel, taking up his position as +guard. + +Each minute had lead in its shoes. Why didn't the boat return? And +then, suddenly, it was rounding the bend! Rick moved behind the camera +and loosened the pan-head. He swung the lens upstream. Scotty parted +the rushes for him and he began to shoot. Infrared illuminated the +boat clearly. He saw the faces of the crew, saw the cases stacked from +stem to stem and even read their labels. Hummer sewing machines. He +didn't believe for a moment that there were really sewing machines in +them, but he couldn't guess their actual content. + +He stopped shooting and rewound the camera while Scotty cranked the +dynamo spring, then he took another brief sequence, stopped, and +waited. No more now until they actually reached the dock and started +to transfer the stuff. + +Red Kelso and Brad Marbek came out of the hotel and he started +shooting again, then he switched to a telephoto lens and took a +close-up of their faces as they watched the boat draw near. + +Carrots appeared around the front of the hotel and Rick got him, too, +before he vanished again, patrolling the grounds. + +The boat touched the dock. A crewman leaped to the place where Kelso +and Marbek stood. There was conversation with much gesturing and +pointing into the boat. Then the crewman jumped down again and +motioned to one of his fellows. Rick started shooting. Clearly, as +though it were day, he saw the two bend over something in the bow. +They heaved upright and a chill shot through him. A man, bound and +gagged! Then they turned the man over to hand him up to the dock and +Rick's teeth clamped on his lip so hard that he groaned. + +It was Jerry Webster! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +The Fight at Creek House + + +Rick and Scotty watched helplessly as Jerry was carried into the +hotel, then they looked at each other wordlessly. In a moment the +seamen who had carried him returned, but Brad and Red didn't. + +The one who had first reported to Brad, probably the mate or bosun, +stood on the dock and called to the men in the boat. The boys could +hear him clearly. "Let's get busy. We've got to load this stuff fast." + +One of the men in the boat asked, "What they going to do with the +kid?" + +"Find out what he knows, then knock him on the head and shove him +under the fish until we're out where we can dump him." + +Rick and Scotty grabbed for each other at the same time. They knew +without speaking what they had to do. Rick snatched up the camera, +hauling it out of the muck recklessly. He pulled the power plug and +Scotty reeled it in. They plowed through the swamp as fast as they +could without making too much of a disturbance. Scotty led the way, +cutting straight through the marsh to the boat, his highly developed +direction sense showing him the way. + +It seemed forever to Rick, but it was actually only a few minutes +before they were climbing into the boat. "What do we do?" he asked +desperately as he stowed the camera. "If we start the boat, they'll +hear it, and it would take too long to pole out." + +"Swim," Scotty said tersely. "It's faster. Get out of your clothes, +but tie the laces of your shoes together and hang the shoes around +your neck. We'll need 'em." + +Quickly they stripped to their shorts, then draped shoes around their +necks and slipped into the mud again. The water deepened rapidly and +they began to swim with a noiseless side stroke. Rick followed Scotty, +knowing that his friend was at his best in a situation like this. + +They reached the edge of the marsh and angled along its edge, swimming +strongly. Rick was in an agony of fear for Jerry. How had he gotten +caught? And where? Scotty slowed, then stopped. The sudden feel of +sluggish current warned Rick they were at the creek mouth. + +"Watch the splashes," Scotty whispered. "We'll cross to the outside of +the fence." + +For the next few moments they would be vulnerable if Carrots Kelso +happened to walk to the bank and look across. It had to be chanced. +Scotty started out and Rick drew abreast of him. They swam cautiously, +making no noise or splash, reached the opposite bank safely and +crawled up the beach until they were sure the fence hid them from any +watchers at Creek House. + +"Got to draw Carrots to the back side of the hotel," Scotty +whispered. "Then we can get in through the creek side of the fence. +But how?" + +Rick thought quickly. If they could make some sort of noise on the +other side ... but it would take too long to go over there and then +come back again and it wouldn't be safe to enter near where they made +the noise, anyway. He started to put on his shoes, and as his fingers +touched the strings, an idea blossomed. "Hunt for a piece of rope or +wire," he said swiftly, and began running down the reef, eyes +searching the dark ground. Scotty went to the other side and began to +search, too. Rick knew they would find what he wanted on the wreck of +the trawler but hoped he wouldn't have to go that far. He was in luck. +He stumbled over a loop of rusty wire, grabbed it, and heaved. It came +free. Swiftly his fingers explored it. About eight feet. That was +good. Probably it had been buried when the part of the reef nearest +the hotel had been filled in with trash to make a parking area. He had +noticed odds and ends of junk around. He ran over to Scotty and told +him what else was needed and they both hunted until they found a +jagged piece of metal that would suit. It weighed about two pounds, +and it had holes along one edge, probably originally drilled for +rivets. They unkinked the wire carefully, then Rick passed one end +through a hole in the steel and made it fast while Scotty bent a loop +in the other end and wound the wire around itself to make a handhold. + +"You do it," Rick whispered. + +Scotty put a hand through the loop he had made and gripped it tight, +then he went as close to the hotel fence as he could without raising +the trajectory too high and began to whirl the contraption around his +head. Faster and faster he whirled it until it began to whine, then +with all the momentum of his body he released it. + +The missile soared away in a long, low arc, past the hotel and on. The +boys waited, not breathing, and heard it crunch through the reeds on +the far side of the hotel. They ran to the creek end of the fence and +looked around. The men at the pier were looking toward the marsh +behind the garage. Red Kelso was walking that way and Carrots was +running, rifle lifted. + +Scotty and Rick rounded the corner and ran silently to the front of +the hotel. Now to find Jerry! Rick stepped to the front porch and +tried the door. It was unlocked. Taking his nerve in both hands, he +pushed the door open and stepped inside. + +It was quiet in the hotel. He knew the layout; they had explored every +inch of it. He led the way toward the kitchen, then flattened against +the wall of the hallway as he saw the light streaming through. He felt +Scotty brush against him. Rick leaned forward, keeping his face in the +shadow, just as Brad Marbek, his curiosity getting the better of him, +walked to the side door and stepped out. + +Rick took a long step into the kitchen. No one in it. Then he saw a +lighted doorway across the room. It was a good bet. With his eyes on +the door through which Brad had gone, he trotted swiftly across the +floor. Scotty was right behind him. + +Rick smothered an exclamation as he saw Jerry. The reporter was seated +in a chair, tied fast to it. The gag, a bundle of rags, had been +stuffed into his mouth. There was a bad bruise over his left eye and +another on his left temple. Rick was at his side in three long steps. +He jerked the gag from Jerry's mouth, cautioned him to silence, and +started to untie him. Scotty went to the window, which fortunately +faced the Seaford side of the house, and leaned out. + +Rick heard Brad call, "Find anyone?" Then a faint answering call. "No +one here." + +"Hurry," Scotty whispered. He went to the door and stood to one side +of it, looking into the kitchen. + +Rick tugged at a recalcitrant knot, then got it loose. Jerry stood up, +hands still tied behind him. Rick fought with the knot and wished for +a knife. + +There were footsteps in the kitchen. Rick's fingers got a hold and he +heaved. The footsteps came closer. Scotty crouched. Brad Marbek +entered the room and stepped into a terrific roundhouse swing with all +of Scotty's frantic weight behind it. Brad stumbled backward and fell, +and he roared. + +"They're in the house! Cover the doors!" + +He got to his feet and his powerful legs drove him forward. Scotty +stepped directly into his way. + +The rope loosened in Rick's hand. He unwound Jerry, working as fast as +he could. He turned just in time to see Brad's arms reach for Scotty. +The fisherman's face was distorted in a snarl and blood trickled from +his cut lip. + +Scotty back-pedaled swiftly. He took Brad's out-stretched hands, then +fell backward, feet lifting, catching Brad in the stomach. Scotty +heaved. The heave and the smuggler's momentum shot him headlong. He +smashed into the wall. + +Scotty leaped to his feet. "Run!" he yelled. + +Rick propelled Jerry into the kitchen, and as they started across the +room he saw Red Kelso at the door. "The front," he called. "Hurry, +Jerry." + +The reporter was fast getting the use of his limbs back. Scotty led +the way to the front hall and Jerry stumbled after him. As Rick passed +through the doorway from the kitchen into the wide hallway he spotted +a cabinet. He grabbed it and tugged. It came away from the wall and he +stepped from under it, letting it crash at an angle across the +passageway. That would hold Red for a few seconds. They sprinted for +the open front door and met Carrots head on just inside the entrance. + +Scotty dove at him. His shoulder caught the redhead in the chest and +slammed him backward. Carrots' arms flew up and the rifle he was +carrying sailed from his grasp and slid across the porch to the +sidewalk. The boys started to pile out over him, then they stopped +short. Two of the crew were pounding up the sidewalk, leaping to the +steps, and they carried clubs! + +They were trapped! "Up the stairs," Rick said hoarsely. + +Scotty bent over the fallen Carrots and jerked him to his feet. +"You're coming with us," he grated. + +Rick was already halfway to the stairs. Red Kelso was climbing over +the blockade in the hallway, Brad Marbek behind him. Rick stopped. +"Hurry, Scotty!" + +"Hostage," Scotty grunted. He took Carrots' arm in a Japanese +wristlock and rushed him across the room. Carrots struggled, then let +out a yelp. It was either go peacefully or break his own arm. "Run," +Scotty commanded, and Carrots ran, up the stairs. Jerry followed and +Rick brought up the rear. Their pursuers were gaining! + +Rick's mind raced as he climbed two stairs at a time, reconstructing +the plan of the house. He rejected the idea of barricading themselves +in a room on the second or third floor; the halls would give their +enemies too much room for a battering rush against the door. "The +attic," he called ahead to Scotty, "and step on it! They're gaining!" + +They crossed the second-floor landing and went up the stairs to the +third. At the top of the third landing was a rusty bucket, full of +sand. Rick knew, because he had been forced to dig through the sand. +It was evidently a relic of Coast Guard occupancy, placed there to +extinguish incendiaries. He pressed hard against Jerry's heels, +hearing the thud of footsteps on the stairs behind him and the cries +of "Get 'em" from Red Kelso. + +Scotty, Carrots, and Jerry sprinted for the attic stairs. Rick paused +long enough to scoop up the bucket of sand. He hurled it after him, +straight into the faces of the smugglers and found time for a grin at +their yells and curses. + +The attic stairs led straight up, with no landing at the top. The door +was ajar. Rick's trick had gained a little time. They went through it +with seconds to spare, and Rick slammed it shut. "Find a light," he +gasped. "There's one up here." He remembered a tiny bulb, high in the +ceiling. + +"Key," Scotty snapped. "In the door. Outside. It was there last time." + +Rick opened the door and had a quick glimpse of dark figures rushing +up the stairs. He fumbled for the key, jerked it loose, and slammed +the door. With his shoulder against it he inserted the key on their +side and twisted it just as bodies thumped against the other side. + +Jerry found the light switch and turned it on. Carrots, lips drawn +tight, was bent over in the judo hold Scotty had on him. Rick found a +few old pieces of overstuffed furniture, too disreputable to have been +moved or sold, and he and Jerry pushed them against the door. + +"If we can hold out," Jerry said between swollen lips, "Captain +Douglas will get here." + +"If!" Rick echoed. + +Red Kelso called through the door. "Okay, you kids. Open up and we'll +make things easy on you. But if we have to break the door down, it'll +be rugged." + +The boys looked at each other. Carrots grinned. Rick didn't like the +grin. He yelled back, "Try to come through that door and we throw your +son out the window!" + +Carrots turned white. + +"Stop talking like a fool and open up," Kelso demanded. + +"We warned you," Rick yelled. + +There was a solid thump as shoulders hit the door. Rick cast a +desperate look at Scotty. The door wouldn't hold long. Scotty winked +at Rick and jerked his chin at Carrots' back. + +"Out the window with him," Rick growled. He lunged forward and took +the boy's legs. Jerry, who had caught the wink too, took his shoulders +while Scotty kept a wristlock clamped tight. They rushed Carrots to +the window and Rick let go long enough to throw up the sash. Then they +lifted Carrots to the sill. + +"Pop!" he screamed. "They're throwing me out!" + +The thumping at the door ceased. The elder Kelso called, "Keep your +head, Jimmy. They don't dare. They know we're comin' in, anyway, and +if they throw you out they haven't got a chance." + +Kelso had spoken the exact truth, and the boys knew it. They let +Carrots slump to the floor. "Get close," Scotty said. He spoke into +Carrots' ear. "One peep out of you and I'll break your arm. Listen. +We've got to have help and quick. Who's the fastest runner?" + +"Jerry," Rick said promptly. The reporter had been a sprinting +champion in school. "Are you okay now?" + +"Fine. What's your plan?" + +A door panel splintered as shoulders crashed against it. Good thing +there was little space to stand out there. The smugglers couldn't get +much leverage. Scotty talked fast. "We'll unblock the door and open it +suddenly, then, Rick, you dive into the mob. They'll be off balance +because the stairs are steep. Jerry, you'll have to leap for it, over +their heads, and try to get away." He was behind Carrots and his wink +was concealed. "Carrots will help us." + +"I won't," Carrots stated. + +"You will," Scotty corrected, "and you'll say 'Pop, hold it a minute. +They want to talk it over.' Just like that." He twisted his hand +slightly and Carrots yelped. + +Scotty marched him to the door. Rick and Jerry slid the furniture +away. The door was close to giving in now, the hinges starting to pull +loose. Rick put one hand on the key and the other on the knob, hoping +he had interpreted Scotty's wink correctly. Jerry crouched to one +side of the door. Scotty held Carrots directly in front of it and +commanded: "Speak your piece." + +Carrots did, willingly, under the pressure of Scotty's hand. + +The thumping stopped. + +"What do they want to talk over?" Kelso demanded. + +Scotty nodded. Rick spun the key and jerked the door open. Carrots, +all of Scotty's driving weight behind him, catapulted headlong and +smashed into the men on the stairs like a battering ram. They tumbled +down under the impact like a row of dominoes, and Jerry went out the +door as though shot from a crossbow. His flying feet struck backs, +legs, and spurned faces. He gained the landing in a mad dive, +scrambled to his feet, and was gone. + +The smugglers clambered to their feet, or tried to. "After him," +Marbek bellowed. + +Red Kelso had fallen backward, and his legs were almost at the door. +Scotty and Rick grabbed simultaneously and heaved, sending the upper +men sprawling again. Then the boys withdrew and slammed and locked the +door. Jerry had had the advantage of complete surprise, and his +momentum had gotten him past the men on the lower stairs. Rick and +Scotty couldn't have made it after the initial shock. + +They pushed the furniture against the door again and drew back. Unless +help was near, they were done for. There was nothing more they could +do except wait, and fight once the door gave. Rick wrenched the leg +from an ancient and broken chair and silently handed it to Scotty. +Then he found one for himself. + +The banging had renewed almost instantly. Scotty went to the window +and looked out. Rick joined him just in time to see Jerry round the +corner of the fence. + +"He made it," Rick said with satisfaction. Two of the seamen crossed +below, but Rick knew they would never catch his friend. He turned to +face the door. + +"Closer," Scotty said. + +They moved closer and took places, one on each side of the door, and +waited. + +Smash. And again, and again. Wood dust flew as hinge screws gave with +a loud screech. The door was just hanging now. One more smash! It flew +inward and Red and Brad charged, two seamen close behind them. + +Rick met Brad Marbek with a lightning thrust of his chair leg, and the +smuggler doubled up. But his great body could absorb more punishment +than Rick could give. He drove forward, brushed aside a swing of the +chair leg, and his arms locked around the boy. Rick groaned as the +steely hug drove the air from him; he felt a hand loosen, and kicked +frantically for Brad's legs, then Brad's free hand caught him behind +the ear, stunning him. Rick slumped to the floor fighting for breath +and consciousness. Across the room, the seamen had Scotty, grabbing +for his flailing arms while Red Kelso stood back and shot punches at +him. Then the seamen got a firm grip and held him fast. Kelso's open +hand slapped, back and forth, until Scotty's head sagged. + +Carrots crawled into the room, his face contorted, one hand on his +ribs. He got to his feet and walked unsteadily over to Scotty. He +swung a roundhouse right. Scotty's head moved an inch. Carrots +missed, and the force of his swing spun him around and he almost +fell. + +Rick laughed gaspingly. + +Carrots' face turned scarlet. He walked over to where Rick was +struggling for wind and drew his foot back. "I'm goin' to kick your +teeth right down your throat," he grated. + +Cap'n Mike's voice came from the doorway. "I'd call that mighty +impolite!" + +Rick turned on his side and stared unbelievingly. The old sea captain +stood rock steady in the door, and at his shoulder was Carrots' rifle. + +He spoke calmly. "Only got one shot in here. You could get me before I +had time to pump it up again. Found it on the porch and took me a few +minutes to figure it out. Almost put a slug through my foot doing it. +But I got it in hand now. Got one shot. Who wants it?" + +Marbek took a half step forward and the muzzle swung to cover him. +Cap'n Mike's finger tightened. "You, Brad?" + +Marbek stepped back. + +"Come toward me, both of you," Cap'n Mike said. "Rick and Scotty." + +Rick crawled forward, under the line of fire. Scotty, suddenly +released, dropped to the floor and did the same. + +The smugglers stayed where they were, frozen by the calm threat of the +old man's voice. "Been eel fishing," he said. "Saw that young reporter +skate around the corner with two men after him. Then I noticed Scotty +and Rick looking out, and I thought I better take a hand. Didn't know +just what to do until I spotted this BB gun in front of the porch." + +His voice hardened as Red Kelso shifted position. "But now I know what +to do." + +Far down Million Dollar Row, Jerry met the State Police cars. And as +Rick grinned up at the Captain, he heard the welcome sound of sirens. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Read All About It! + + +Jerry Webster came out of the pressroom with a bundle of papers under +his arm, the roar of the presses providing a background for his chant. +"Extra! Read All About It! Spindrifters Smear Smugglers! Seaman Shows +Shootin' Savvy! Simple Sap Scampers, Saves Skin! Read All About It!" + +Rick snatched one of the papers. "Thanks, I will. Hey, gang, listen to +this!" He read the headline aloud. "'Seaford Gunrunners Caught.'" + +Scotty took a paper, too, and read the subhead. "'New Night Movie +Camera Supplies Evidence for Surprise Raid.'" He grinned at Jerry and +Duke Barrows. "Very restrained. Not a purple adjective in the lot." + +Captain Douglas let out a bellow. "Hey! You don't mention the State +Police until the second line of the story. Call a cop someone, I want +these guys pinched." + +"Charge 'em with serving poison coffee," Cap'n Mike suggested. "Never +drank such a brew in my life." + +Duke grinned. "That isn't coffee, skipper. It's printer's ink with +cream and sugar. Go on, Rick, or someone. Read the rest of it." + +"Byline," Rick said, "by Jerry Webster, and under that it says +copyrighted by the _Morning Record_. How did you copyright it so +quickly, Duke?" + +"Sent a copy air mail to the copyright office and enclosed a dollar. +The letter will go out tonight. It's standard procedure. Go on, read. +I edited Jerry's story so fast I didn't have a chance to enjoy it." + +Rick read on. "'A Seaford trawler captain, four members of his crew, +and two New Yorkers were arrested tonight on gunrunning charges after +a surprise raid by State Police officers culminated a series of events +that included the wrecking of the trawler _Sea Belle_, the use of a +new invention by the two youngest members of the Spindrift Island +Foundation to photograph the transfer of arms under cover of darkness +on the high seas, the kidnapping and maltreatment of a _Morning +Record_ reporter, and a fight in the attic of the Creek House hotel +that was ended by the timely intervention of a retired sea captain.'" +Rick got the last words out with his last bit of breath. + +Scotty looked at Jerry with admiration. "He's not only a distance +runner, he's a distance writer. That was a hundred-yard sentence." + +"I cannot tell a lie," Jerry said modestly. "I did it with my little +dictionary. Written by an ancestor who was also famous. Noah Webster." + +"'One of the most surprising disclosures,'" Rick read on, "'was the +reason for the stubborn silence of Captain Thomas Tyler, master of the +trawler _Sea Belle_, which was wrecked on Smugglers' Reef a week ago. +As reported in previous editions, Captain Tyler maintained an +obstinate silence as to the real reason for the wreck of the trawler +in the face of pleas from friends and officials. He had maintained +that he was solely responsible and that his error in judgment had been +caused by liquor. After the arrest of the smugglers, Captain Tyler +willingly told this reporter that he had discovered the smuggling +activities of Captain Bradford Marbek and Roger and James Kelso two +weeks before.'" + +"That was a good guess we made," Cap'n Mike said soberly. "Poor Tom. +He was in some spot. He knew about the smuggling, but he was like we +were. Couldn't prove a thing. He could have told the police and asked +for protection, but they wouldn't have had grounds for holding Brad +and the Kelsos. They would have been free to carry out their threats +against his family inside of twenty-four hours." + +"That's right," Scotty said. "But he didn't know any more than we did +what they were smuggling." + +The axes of police officers had disclosed rifles, submachine guns, and +ammunition in the cases innocently labeled as sewing machines, and no +one had been more surprised than the boys. + +"Thousands of guns and ammunition must have gone out before we caught +on," Rick said. "What happens to the people that received them?" + +"That's not our affair," Captain Douglas told him. "Since they went to +ships and nationals of a foreign country, it's up to the Department of +State to take action, if there's going to be any." + +"We filed the story with Universal Press Service," Jerry explained. +"It's all over the country by this time. Copyright by the Whiteside +_Morning Record_." He grinned. "We're modest, Duke and I." + +"You are, anyway," Rick scoffed. "'Kidnapping and maltreatment of a +_Morning Record_ reporter.' Why didn't you give the reporter's name?" + +Jerry turned a little red, but he said loftily, "We heroes prefer to +remain anonymous." + +"Heroes is right," Duke said dryly. "You came within an inch of having +a bronze plaque erected to your memory as one who fell in line of +duty." + +"What? Only bronze?" Jerry looked hurt. + +Rick gave him a comradely wink. Jerry's act had brought him close to +the ranks of heroes at that, if quick thinking and nerve combined with +bad luck were any qualification. He glanced through the story quickly, +and found what the young reporter had said about his own part. + +"'While attempting to gather evidence, the _Morning Record_ reporter +who figured in the case was caught by the truckmen who delivered the +arms to Creek House. After being beaten, bound, and gagged, he was +taken to the hotel. His questioning was interrupted by the arrival of +Brant and Scott.'" + +And that really was modesty. Jerry had been returning from the boat +landing when he passed a big trailer truck that carried the name of a +large manufacturer of industrial castings. He thought quickly, +surprised at seeing such a vehicle in Whiteside. Such trucks always +used the shorter main route. To his positive knowledge, there was not +a single manufacturing plant on the entire shore road on which +Whiteside and Seaford were located. There was a definite chance, he +decided, that the truck might be carrying a load for Creek House. He +knew the smugglers had made fast changes in their plans, as witness +the moving up of the ship sailing. There was a strong possibility they +had been forced to ask for immediate shipment of contraband, too. + +Jerry passed the truck and stopped at the newspaper long enough to +scrawl a note to Duke, explaining what had happened, then he passed +the truck again and drove furiously toward Seaford. He went by Salt +Creek Bridge and parked his car in a pasture, then ran back to the +bridge, made his way into the marsh and waited. + +The trailer truck arrived, stopped, and put out flares, and three men +got out. They jacked up the rear wheels of the trailer, then started +to unload. By so doing, they had a perfect reason for being there. If +a police car came along, they had only to explain that they had broken +an axle and were replacing it, and that they had taken out part of +their cargo to lighten the load until repairs were completed. + +The stage was no sooner set than up the river came the flatboat from +Creek House. It pushed its way into the marsh, toward Jerry. Not until +the actual loading started did he discover his bad luck. He had taken +a fairly well-defined path into the marsh. The path was artificial, +made by the Kelsos. They had carried rocks to make both the path and +the stone jetty to which the flatboat had come. The deception had +worked, because the path and jetty surfaces, strong enough to carry +the weight of men with heavy cases, were under an inch of mud and +water! + +Jerry had described the end simply. "They fell over me. I tried to get +away, but there were too many of them." + +But he had gotten in one good blow. His hand closed over one of the +rocks of the path and he swung it effectively. The State Police, +hearing his story, made a routine check of doctors and hospitals along +the route the truck probably had taken; they assumed it would not turn +around on the narrow shore road. The trucker Jerry had felled was in a +small clinic two towns below Seaford, and an interstate alarm had gone +out for the others, giving license numbers and descriptions supplied +by the reporter. They wouldn't get far. + +Jerry's luck had been bad, but Captain Douglas' luck had been good. +The accumulated evidence probably would have been enough, but one of +Brad's seamen had talked, hoping for a lighter sentence. + +Rick was most pleased to find that his theory about Smugglers' Light +had been close to the truth. The marks on the old tower had been made +by a powerful light supplied by Brad Marbek. The light, once used for +night purse seine fishing, was powered by a carbon arc. A cable, +connected into the same junction box that supplied Smugglers' Reef +Light, had furnished the power. The police officers had found signs of +tampering in the junction box, but they had called the authorities +responsible for the light to make a definite check. The light itself +had been stowed in Brad Marbek's home. One quarter of the cylinder had +been blacked out with paint. Red cellophane was pasted on to another +quarter. + +There were still no answers to who had phoned the warning to Rick, or +why Carrots had trailed them into Whiteside, but those things weren't +important, anyway. Probably their original guesses had been right. + +The others had fallen silent, engrossed in reading Jerry's story. Rick +went through it again, more carefully. The young reporter had done +well. It was an exciting yarn. Then he looked at the "side pieces," +other stories dealing with the case, written by both Duke and Jerry in +the feverish rush to make the morning paper. There was a simple +statement by Captain Killian, who long since was asleep in his own bed +at Seaford. There was a photo of Rick and Scotty with the infrared +camera and a story by Duke of its use in the collecting of evidence. +The staff photographer had taken that one after they all returned to +Whiteside, accompanying the police and the prisoners to jail. The +entire back page was devoted to pictures, some reproductions from +Rick's movie and some taken at the jail by the staff photographer. +There was one of Cap'n Mike holding Carrots' rifle, and the caption +explained how he had rescued the boys. + +"How much per column inch did you say?" Rick asked Duke slyly. + +"Too much. This will bankrupt me." + +Scotty folded his paper. "We'd better get back to Spindrift, Rick." + +"That's right." Rick knew his folks would be waiting to see the paper, +too. He had phoned them as soon as they reached the jail. + +"I'll take you to the landing," Jerry offered, "then I'll run Cap'n +Mike down to Seaford." + +"Never mind," Captain Douglas said. "I have a patrol car going down +that way in fifteen minutes. It can drop him off." + +Cap'n Mike shook hands with both of the boys. "I'll see you tomorrow, +I reckon." + +"In the afternoon," Rick said. "We'll sleep in the morning." After the +fight at Creek House, Cap'n Mike had rowed them to the Spindrift +speedboat in his dory. They had gotten their clothes, but left the +boat at the hotel. It would be safe; police officers would keep an eye +on it while guarding the load of arms. + +Captain Douglas shook hands, too. "I should make a speech," he told +them with a smile. "You know, about your both being good citizens, +aiding the police at risk of life and limb and so on...." + +Rick grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid we weren't thinking about the +citizen part of it, Captain. We just...." + +"I was about to add that." Captain Douglas laughed. "But thanks, +anyway." + +Duke Barrows said, "I don't suppose you would accept the coffee we +served you as part payment?" + +Scotty snorted. "Aren't you the one said it wasn't coffee?" + +"All right." Duke's shoulders slumped. "Drive me into debt paying you +off. Go ahead." + +"We will," Rick retorted, "and don't take the price of these papers +you gave us off the amount, either." + +The editor laughed. "Okay. Take them home, Jerry. They'll have to wait +until the first of the month for their money, just like the rest of +our creditors. So long, kids, and thanks a million for a swell story." + +As they drove to the landing, Rick glanced quizzically at Jerry. +"Well, you asked for it. Remember?" + +Jerry was puzzled. + +"The night we went to get a story on the wreck," Scotty explained. +"Didn't you say you wished you would get in on an adventure with us?" + +"I certainly did. I didn't know what I was asking for, believe me." +Jerry's grin widened. He touched his head tenderly, patting the +bruises he had collected. Then he laughed. "I was scared silly, but +you know, I kind of enjoyed it!" + +Rick and Scotty broke into laughter, too. + + * * * * * + +Rick was figuring out some changes in the infrared camera attachment +on the following Monday when Scotty came into the room. + +"Just got back from Whiteside with the paper and the mail," he +announced. "And look at this!" He indicated an item on the front page. + +It was a Universal News Service dispatch. Authorities of a republic in +the Caribbean had arrested the country's former dictator on a charge +of planning a revolution, pointing to a large cache of arms and +ammunition found on his estate as evidence. Arrested for complicity +was the president of the Compania Maritima Caribe y Atlantica. +Warrants were being issued for a number of others. + +"That settles that," Rick said. "Looks like we stopped a revolution!" + +"We're the kids what did it," Scotty boasted. He dropped a letter in +front of Rick. "Got this, too. Look who it's from." + +The postmark was Bombay. It was from Chahda, the first letter since +the Hindu boy had left them in New Caledonia to return to India. + +"He's fine," Scotty said. "I read it at the post office. His brothers +and sisters didn't believe some of his stories, but he's convincing +them. Also, he's going to work. He can't tell us yet what his job will +be, because it's a sort of secret." + +"Then he won't come back to America for a while," Rick said, +disappointed. "We won't see him." He grinned, remembering the first +time they had met Chahda. "He's probably at Crawford Market right now, +bargaining at the top of his lungs for something." He picked up the +letter and started to read, picturing Chahda, in his native dress once +more, at home in Bombay. + + * * * * * + +Rick's mental image was far from the truth. As he read the letter, +Chahda was writing to Rick and Scotty again, but this time he was +composing an urgent cable, laboriously working over the cipher that +would conceal its content from his strange enemy. + +The Hindu boy was in the hiding place he had chosen deep in the Indian +quarter of Singapore, but he knew it was only a temporary refuge. Once +he emerged, the shadow would find him again. But if he could succeed +in getting to the cable office first, Rick and Scotty would get his +message, and they would come. Once the three of them were united +again, let the shadow do as it would! + +Chahda finished his composition, folded it and tucked it securely into +his turban, then he slipped through a door into the darkness of the +Singapore night. In his ciphered message was the key to an adventure +that would plunge his American friends into both darkness and danger +in the fabled, terrifying Caves of Korse Lenken, a story to be related +in the next volume, + +THE CAVERNS OF FEAR. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE RICK BRANT + +Science-Adventure Stories + +BY JOHN BLAINE + + +Rick Brant and his pal, Scotty, have the kind of adventures all boys +would like to have. They live on an island called Spindrift where +Rick's father heads a group of scientists working in the field of +electronics. Here and abroad, the boys encounter many thrilling +adventures and solve many baffling mysteries. + +THE ROCKET'S SHADOW + +THE LOST CITY + +SEA GOLD + +100 FATHOMS UNDER + +THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY + +THE PHANTOM SHARK + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +THE CAVES OF FEAR + + +Grosset & Dunlap _Publishers_ + +NEW YORK 10, N.Y. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE KEN HOLT MYSTERY STORIES + +By Bruce Campbell + + +Ken Holt, son of a world-famous foreign correspondent, and Sandy +Allen, of the redheaded Allen clan, join forces at a time when Ken is +very much in need of help. They fall into the thick of a mystery as +readily as a duck takes to water, and no sooner are they on the scent +than the suspense begins to mount and every reader knows he is in for +a thrilling time. + + +THE SECRET OF SKELETON ISLAND + +Ken and Sandy solve the mystery of the strange goings-on at the +exclusive resort on Skeleton Island. + + +THE RIDDLE OF THE STONE ELEPHANT + +In Colorado gathering data for Ken's dad about an old lawsuit between +two ranchmen over water rights, Ken and Sandy find every move +thwarted, every action watched. + + +THE BLACK THUMB MYSTERY + +Ken and Sandy prove the innocence of a banker who has been found +guilty of conspiracy in a robbery. The boys track down many clues +before they discover the motive behind the sinister plot. + +THE CLUE OF THE MARKED CLAW + +Vacationing in a fishing village on Long Island, Ken and Sandy play an +unexpected part in the capture of a dangerous ring of smugglers. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +Publishers of WORDS: _The New Dictionary_ + +NEW YORK 10, N. Y. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE HARDY BOYS + +_Mystery Stories_ + +By FRANKLIN N. DIXON + + +All boys from 11 to 15 who like lively adventure stories, packed with +mystery and action, will want to read every one of the exciting Hardy +Boys stories listed below. Sons of a famous American detective, the +Hardy boys help solve many thrilling mysteries after school hours and +during vacations, as they follow up the clues they unearth in their +quest to bring criminals to justice. + + +_Now Available:_ + +1. THE TOWER TREASURE + +2. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF + +3. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL + +4. THE MISSING CHUMS + +5. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD + +6. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY + +7. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES + +8. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND + +9. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY + +10. WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT + +11. WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED + +12. FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW + +13. THE MARK ON THE DOOR + +14. THE HIDDEN HARBOR MYSTERY + +15. THE SINISTER SIGN POST + +16. A FIGURE IN HIDING + +17. THE SECRET WARNING + +18. THE TWISTED CLAW + +19. THE DISAPPEARING FLOOR + +20. THE MYSTERY OF THE FLYING EXPRESS + +21. THE CLUE OF THE BROKEN BLADE + +22. THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY + +23. THE MELTED COINS + +24. THE SHORT-WAVE MYSTERY + +25. THE SECRET PANEL + +26. THE PHANTOM FREIGHTER + +27. THE SECRET OF SKULL MOUNTAIN + +28. SIGN OF THE CROOKED ARROW + +29. THE SECRET OF THE LOST TUNNEL + +30. THE WAILING SIREN MYSTERY + +G R O S S E T & D U N L A P _Publishers_ N E W Y O R K + + * * * * * + + +_The_ RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE _Stories_ + +BY JOHN BLAINE + +THE ROCKET'S SHADOW + +THE LOST CITY + +SEA GOLD + +100 FATHOMS UNDER + +THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY + +THE PHANTOM SHARK + +SMUGGLERS' REEF + +THE CAVES OF FEAR + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Smugglers' Reef, by John Blaine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SMUGGLERS' REEF *** + +***** This file should be named 28849.txt or 28849.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/8/4/28849/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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