Boy Scouts on Picket Duty Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  THE HUT ON THE BEACH

  Hugh was agog with curiosity. He felt that he must find out who werethose three stealthy strangers and what they were doing there.

  "Perhaps they're smugglers," was his first thought. "If they are,I'd be doing a real service to Uncle Sam if I could report theirwhereabouts to the _Petrel_ when she comes back this way. Gee! it'sworth the risk! Here goes!"

  Without stopping to think much more about it, Hugh began to creepforward on hands and knees down the mound and quite close to thebamboo lean-to. Though usually unwilling to play the part of aneavesdropper, he felt justified in his present impulsive ventureby the actions of the three men, for they seemed to be engagedin some underhand work which would not stand the light of day.So hiding himself behind a cypress stump, Hugh listened eagerly,straining his ears to catch every word.

  The men spoke in low voices so he could not hear everything, buthe heard enough to convince him that they were indeed smugglers.They were arranging to convey a cargo of dynamite from a point nearthe mouth of the little stream Sandgate on the peninsula (Florida)over to this retreat on the island. This was to be done on thefirst night when there was no moon and the wind was blowing off shore.

  "There's a guy named Durgan lives over yonder in a little clearing'bout a hundred yards up from the mouth of the creek," said oneof the men. "Lives there all year 'round alone, fishin' an' raisin'turtles fer market. Queer ol' cuss, kind-a looney,---but he'sfriendly to us and willin' to oblige us by showin' a light in hiscabin winder when the coast is clear."

  "You theenk dat will be next-----"

  The rest of that question was lost to Hugh, because the man who hadfirst spoken muttered a warning of silence, then added something ina still lower tone. In vain Hugh tried to catch the words. Thenthe man whose accent indicated that he was either a Creole or aHaytian spoke again.

  "Eet is not alway so easy to tell when dere will be no moon," he said."And der wind, eet blow effery way---in one day."

  "Never mind,---just wait," came the answer. "One o' these nights,perhaps to-morrow, we'll-----"

  Again the sentence was lost. Hugh frowned impatiently. However,as they went on talking he heard some more of their designs---inparticular, the fact that the dynamite was to be used for blowingup a railroad bridge.

  Thinking that he had heard enough by this time and knowing that ifthey discovered him he would be captured as a spy, Hugh began towonder how and when he should leave his hiding place and crawl backto camp with the least risk of being observed. At any moment themen might emerge from the hut or others of their gang might jointhem. Yet he did so want to learn where they had come from, andwhether their vessel was lying at anchor somewhere among thesemany islands! So he lay there, flat on the sand, scarcely daringto breathe lest he should be heard, heartily wishing the men wouldgive some more definite hint of their purposes, and devoutly hopingthat none of his friends, missing him from camp, would come insearch of him with shouts and calls!

  "That would be fierce!" he whispered inaudibly. "That would giveme away and scare off these jail birds mighty quick!"

  Suddenly the distant tchug-tchug of a gasoline motor boat came tohis ears. Raising himself on his elbows, he peered over the stump,out across the glittering blue water, and saw a good-sized dory,manned by a solitary individual who wore light oilskins, comingswiftly toward the hut on the beach.

  "That must be the motor boat that passed our camp last night,"thought Hugh. "I feel sure now, surer than ever, that I heard it goby in the darkness. But it's coming over from the mainland now.Wonder who's that man at the tiller?"

  Down he sank again and waited.

  Presently the motor-dory drew up alongside the strip of beach infront of the bamboo hut and came to a standstill. The man inoilskins called out:

  "Hey! You-all in thar!"

  Instantly one of the three rascals came forth from the hut.

  "Hello, Durgan!" he called, not at all loudly, through his cuppedhands. "What's the news?"

  "Beat it!" was Durgan's warning answer. "Thar's a campin' party onth' island below here---I seen 'em 'bout ten minutes ago---old Cap'nLem Vinton, an Injun, an' four or five boys."

  "Lem Vinton, eh? All right, Joe, we're going. Can you tow usaround Spider Key?"

  "Nope. I'm goin' home now," Joe Durgan replied tersely, with theabruptness of one who has done an irksome duty and would avoid furtherresponsibility for the present.

  Suiting actions to words, he quickened his engine and made off towardthe Florida shore.

  His boat had scarcely become a speck on the water, when Hugh beganto crawl back to the other side of the mound. Joe Durgan, who wasevidently not nearly so "looney" as represented, had warned thesmugglers of the presence of the _Arrow_ near their retreat, andHugh realized that no time should be lost if Vinton were to spreadsail and go in pursuit of them or of the _Petrel_.

  "Now's the time for me to beat it, too," he resolved. "Whilethey're talking they won't hear me or see me, and I can hurry backto the place where I left my coat and shoes."

  When he had gone some little distance without being discovered,he fancied he was safe and rose to his feet, intending to runas fast as his legs could carry him---which was no snail's pace,indeed! Scarcely had he begun to move forward, however, when heheard a shout, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

  Being fleet of foot and having no desire to be caught and treatedas a spy, he set off running at full speed. The ground was quiterough and he had to turn aside to avoid bushes and hollows, yet hehad no difficulty in keeping ahead of his pursuers. The veryimpediments in his way served to retard pursuit, and he did notdespair of escaping. He had to cross over a ridge, at the top ofwhich he was exposed to view. He had just reached it, when heheard some one shout:

  "Stop! Come down,---or I'll fire!"

  "Fire away!" thought Hugh, knowing how unlikely it was that any onewould be so desperate as to shoot at him. "You can't stop me withthat foolish bluff!"

  Ignoring the threat, he rushed down the little hill, hoping soonto find some spot where he could turn off to one side or the other,hide in shelter, and thus evade the rascals. He was surprised tofind that he had gone so far in his wanderings, that the smugglers'island was so much larger than it had seemed. For a moment he felta vague fear that he had lost his bearings and was running in thewrong direction.

  To ascertain how near his pursuers were, he threw a glance overhis shoulder. This proved fatal to his hopes, for his foot caughtin a tangle of crab-grass and down he came headlong. Over andover he rolled; and then for some seconds he lay still, a littledazed by his fall, unable to move. The next minute he found himselfin the grasp of two men.

  "Hullo, youngster! What made you try to git away from us?" askedone of them in an angry tone. He was a short, thick-set, burly man,with black eyes that seemed to glitter like a serpent's. His hugehands fastened upon Hugh's arm in a grip of steel.

  Hugh replied truthfully but not very wisely: "I'm on my way to camp,and I want to get there as soon as possible."

  "Camp, eh? Who are you?"

  "I don't see what that has to do with my being in a hurry to getthere."

  "Maybe not, but we want to know where you was hidin' before you hitthe trail," said the other man, a dark-visaged fellow with asinister cast in one eye. "Come on now! Spit it out!"

  "I was just exploring this island for fun," replied Hugh. "I washunting for---"

  "You were hiding!" vehemently declared the black-eyed man."Whereabouts?"

  "On the ground, of course; there are no trees to climb around here."

  "None o' yer guff!" The swarthy captor dealt Hugh a hard thwack onthe side of his head. "What's yer business here, anyhow? Where'syer camp?"

  No answer.

  "By gad, I'll make ye open up!" cried the cross-eyed knave, losinghis temper. He was about to strike Hugh again, when the other man,still holding the lad in a steel-trap grip, pushed him aside withone foot.r />
  "Hold off, Harry," he commanded gruffly. "I know where his campis. He's one of Lem Vinton's crew. That's the _Arrow_ over yonder,but he ain't going back to it yet awhile."

  "Let me go!" shouted Hugh, struggling to free himself from the graspof those sinewy hands. "Let me go, I say! What---what do you wantwith me? I tell you---help! Hel-----"

  The frantic shout was checked by another blow from the angry ruffian'sfist, and Hugh measured his length upon the sand.

  "Shut up, will ye?" snarled the man, thrusting a bunch of sharp-edgedgrass into Hugh's mouth. "Look here, Branks," he added, "we can'tlet this kid blow the gaff on us to Lem Vinton. Why, the cap'nwouldn't wait ten minutes before he'd sail out to find that blamedcutter ag'in; and then we'd have him and the _Petrel_ on our trail."

  "Harry, you're right---dead right. The boy has got to come withus, until-----"

  "Sure! Here, lend a hand. Tie his arms."

  With their leather belts they bound the lad's hands securely, despitehis struggles. Once, by a manful effort, he managed to break awayand run forward a few yards. But they were after him instantly,before he could get the gag out of his mouth. In the tussle thatfollowed, he kicked and writhed so vigorously that the cross-eyedcaptor howled with pain. Then, beside himself with rage, he felledHugh by a blow on the head.

  Myriads of stars reeled in the sunlight before Hugh's eyes, then thelight of day changed to pitch darkness, and Hugh sank down on thesand---a limp heap, unconscious.