"Why didn't we think before of going to the island?" asked Andy, as he and his brother sat in the train on the way to Mardene.
"Give it up," answered Frank. "But, as the captain says, it would be just the place for a criminal to hide. Hardly any boats stop there if they can help it, unless they want shelter from a storm, and it's out of the line of regular travel. Still, we may not find our man there."
"Yes, but it's a good chance. There's a fine wind to-day, and we oughtn't to be a great while running to the island."
The brothers discussed the curious case into which they had been drawn since rescuing Paul Gale, and they talked about the island.
Its name came from the fact that, situated in the center of it, there was a high rocky cliff. There were several caves running under this cliff, hollowed out by natural means, and rumor had it that, in the early days, sea rovers and pirates used them as places of refuge, or to hide their ill-gotten plunder.
No one had been able to confirm this, however, though it was not for want of trying, as our heroes, as well as several other boys, had paid a number of visits to the island.
But they found no traces of pieces of eight or Spanish doubloons, and, truth to tell, the caves were not very inviting places, being damp and dark, so the lads never penetrated very deeply. Thus Cliff Island was not very well known. It was a desolate, barren sort of place, wind and storm swept, and the abiding place of innumerable gulls.
"I tell you what we ought to do," remarked Andy, as the train neared their destination.
"What's that? Not play any more jokes I hope." And Frank smiled as he looked at his brother.
"No, I mean about this chase. We ought to arrange to stay on the island for several days—sort of camp there. It's so big and so irregular in shape, and with so many caves, that we can't go all over it in one day. And there's no telling where that man may be hiding."
"That's so. Then you think we'd better stock up with grub, and make it a sort of picnic?"
"I do. We can telephone word home of what we're going to do, so they won't worry. It will be fun, even if we don't find any clues of the mysterious man."
"I'm with you. We can buy our grub in Mardene and stock our boat. Then for 'a life on the ocean wave, a home on the bounding deep,'" quoted Frank, in a sing-song voice.
TheGullwas tied up in a small slip where they had left her, and the provisions were soon put aboard. Then the two brothers went over every rope and sail, to make sure they would serve in the strain of a storm.
"Well, guess we might as well pull out," remarked Frank, as he looked up at the "tattle-tale," or piece of triangular bunting flying from the mast to tell the direction of the wind. "We've got a good breeze now. I hope it holds."
"Wait just a minute," begged Andy. "I want to take a look at that motor boat," and he motioned to a large one that was tied near the sailboat. "I wish we had one like that. It's a beaut!"
No one was near the craft and soon Andy was in it, inspecting her critically. Frank saw him handling some of the wires that ran to spark plugs in the four cylinder heads.
"Better let things alone," cautioned the older Racer lad. "You might get something out of order."
"I just thought of a little joke I can play on the fellow who owns this," chuckled Andy, as he disconnected one of the high-tension cables.
"Oh you and your jokes!" objected Frank, somewhat sternly. "You'll get more than you count on, some day."
"Oh, I'm only going to fix things so that when he turns on the batteries and starts to turn over the fly wheel he'll get a shock," explained Andy. "I'll just cross these wires and——"
Andy Racer didn't finish what he was going to say. Instead he jumped back as though he had been stung by a hornet, and let out a yell:
"Wow! Sufferin' cats!" he cried, holding one hand in the other and prancing about.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank in some alarm.
"I got a fearful shock! The wires were short-circuited and I didn't know it! Smoked mackerel! I got a big charge of electricity!" howled Andy.
"Serves you right for meddling with other people's boats, and trying to play jokes on them," declared Frank, as sternly as he could, though he had to laugh at the wry face Andy was making as he danced about.
"Huh! Guess you wouldn't think it funny if you had about twenty-seven hornets after you!" grumbled the younger lad.
"Well, maybe you'll get over playing jokes some day," predicted Frank.
"I didn't suppose it was going to turn out this way," was the dubious answer.
"Well, come aboard now, and we'll get under way," said Frank, trying not to laugh.
A little later, under a spanking breeze, theGullwas standing out for Cliff Island, while the boys peered eagerly forward for the first sight of the bit of land in the big bay which might mean so much to them.
"Are you going to sail straight up to it?" asked Andy after they had covered several miles.
"Well, the best place to drop anchor is in that little inlet on the east side. To get to that we have to sail half way around the island, and I was thinking we might as well make a complete circuit."
"Why?"
"Oh, we might see something of the man, or the boat, and that would give us a line on how to act. After we go around we can tie up in the inlet and row ashore. Then we can begin our search."
"I guess that's a good plan," assented Andy; "Now I'll go get some grub ready and by that time we may sight the island."
It was shortly after the meal, partaken of while the little boat was pitching and tossing on long ground swell, that the younger lad, who had stationed himself in the bow, called out:
"Land ho!"
"Where away?" demanded Frank.
"Dead ahead."
"It's the island, all right," exclaimed Frank. "I laid a straighter course for it than I thought."
In a little while the barren speck loomed up lore plainly. As they approached closer the boys eagerly scanned the shores for a sight of he mysterious man, or the wrecked motor boat. But they saw nothing, even through the powerful glasses they used.
"Now to tie up and go ashore," said Frank, after the circuit was completed. A little later the anchor splashed into the shallow waters of the inlet and the two brothers were rowing ashore.
"Look out for yourself, Mr. Mysterious Man!" exclaimed Andy, as he stepped out of the boat. "We're on your trail."
"Bur-r-r-r! It's as desolate as the place where Robinson Crusoe was stranded!" cried Frank, as he looked about.
Overhead gulls were wheeling and circling with noisy cries, but this was the only sign of life on Cliff Island.
"Well, what's the first thing to be done?" asked Andy, after he had assisted Frank to pull the boat up on the beach beyond high-water mark.
"There's plenty to do," declared his brother. "In the first place we've got to decide whether we'll stay on shore over night, or sleep on the boat. If we stay on land we've got to bring our grub ashore. Then, the next thing is to map out a plan so we can search the island, and not go over the same ground twice."
"My! You'd think you had done this sort of thing all your life, and had it down to a science," declared Andy with a laugh.
"Well, if it's going to be done at all, it might as well be done right.This thing is getting serious, and I want to clear it up if possible.For our sakes as well as for Paul's."
They talked the matter over at some length, and decided that it would be more fun to camp on shore instead of going back and forth to the boat to sleep and eat.
"The weather is warm," said Andy, "and we can sleep out in the open, especially as we have plenty of blankets. And it will be jolly to build a fire on shore and sit around it nights. Just like some old sea pirates. Wow!"
"Easy!" cautioned his brother. "This isn't a joy-picnic. We're here on serious business, and there may be some danger."
"But we might as well have some sport along with it," argued Andy, who could not help seeing the funny or bright side of everything. Frank, though more serious, did not despise a good time by any means, but he went at matters more determinedly than did his brother.
"To my notion, the first thing to do is to go at this search with a system," went on the older lad. "We'll climb up to the top of the cliff, and see if we can make out anything from there. If that man is here he may have set up a camp, and built a fire. If he has, we can easily see it from the cliff. Then we will know where we're at."
To this Andy agreed, and soon they were toiling to the top of the high land that ran lengthwise of the island, roughly dividing it into two parts. It was no easy matter to reach the summit, and several times the boys had to stop for a rest. But finally they were at the goal.
Below them, on all sides, washing the rocky shores of the island were the heaving waters of the great bay. They could take in most of the shore line, irregular and indented as it was, but, look as they did, there was no sign of life.
They saw no curling smoke from a campfire. They saw no figure of a man—the man whom they had so fruitlessly pursued. Nor was there any vestige of a big motor boat half-burned.
"Well, nothing doing so far," remarked Frank, after a pause. "Now we'll go down and begin a circuit of the shore and see what is in some of the caves."
Slipping and sliding over the loose stones and gravel, they reached the bottom of the slope near where they had drawn up their boat. The sight of this craft gave Frank an idea.
"Suppose while we're on one side of the island that man—or someone—should happen to come along?" he suggested. "He'd make off with our boat, sure."
"Probably," agreed Andy. "But we can prevent that."
"How?"
"By hiding the oars. We'll shove 'em under some bushes quite a distance back, so they can't be found."
Frank agreed that this was a good idea, and though there was a chance that someone might land in a motor boat and tow off their rowing craft, still they had to take that risk.
Then began a systematic search of the island. They went along the shore, and looked into many small caves. The interior of these was dark, but they had each provided a pocket portable electric flash lamp, so that they were able to illuminate the caverns.
"Nothing here," announced Frank, after an inspection of the first one. And that was the result in all the others that they penetrated before dusk. By nightfall they had covered perhaps a quarter of the shore line and then they turned back.
A roaring blaze was kindled on the sand from the plentiful supply of driftwood that strewed the beach, and at the cheerful fire they sat and talked as they ate their supper.
"Jolly fun, isn't it?" asked Andy.
"It sure is, even if we don't discover anything. I wish Paul was along."
"Perhaps it's just as well he's home," commented the younger lad. "I have an idea that this man keeps informed of our movements, and don't fancy having him sneak up on us during the night, which he would be very likely to do if Paul was with us."
"That's so. But, speaking of night, what are we going to do about sleeping?"
"Under our boat, with our blankets spread out on the sands," said the younger lad. "It's plenty warm enough."
It was not a half bad way to spend the night, especially as the overturned rowboat kept off the chilly dew. Soon the two brothers were soundly sleeping. They did not bother to keep a watch and even allowed the fire to die out, taking the precaution, however, to put some wood under the boat, where it would be dry in case of rain in the night.
"Well, now for another try at the mysterious man!" called Frank, as he crawled out from under their shelter the next morning. "Maybe we'll have better luck to-day."
They set off directly after breakfast, and took with them their blankets and a supply of food. For they intended to make a half circuit of the island that day, and they figured that night would find them too far away from their camp to make it practical to return.
"We'll eat and sleep wherever we are when it's dark," decided Frank.
Their search that day was as fruitless as fore. Not a vestige of the man or boat to be seen. They made a sort of shelter of driftwood and seaweed before darkness fell, and built a rousing fire in front of it, where they sat and talked until it was time to turn in.
"I don't like the looks of the weather," remarked Frank as he wrapped up in his blankets.
"Why not?" his brother wanted to know.
"It looks like rain, and if it does we're going get wet."
"Oh, I guess not," said the younger lad easily. He never looked for trouble.
It was along toward morning when Frank awoke from a troubled dream that he was standing under a shower bath. He found it to be almost a reality, for it was raining and the water was coming in through the flimsy roof of their shelter.
"What's the matter?" asked Andy sleepily as he heard his brother moving about.
"It's raining a flood! I'm drenched and so must you be."
"That's right, I am pretty wet. What had we better do; make for theGull?"
"What, in this storm and darkness? No, but I think there's a cave near here. We can go in that and keep dry, at any rate."
"Go ahead, I'm with you."
They were fortunate in finding a small cavern, and in it was a supply of dry wood. They made a fire, though the smoke was almost as bad as the dampness, but it served to get rid of that chilly feeling.
It was still raining when morning came, but the boys were more cheerful with the appearance of daylight, though they had to breakfast on cold food, for all the wood was wet, and the supply in the cave had been burned.
"Oh, well, we can go back to our first camp and row out to theGullpretty soon," remarked Frank. "Let's hurry on with our search now."
"I'm afraid it isn't going to amount to anything," declared Andy. "That man isn't here, and he hasn't been here. Captain Trent's theory was all right, but it didn't work out."
"Oh, I'm not going to give up yet," insisted Frank. "We have a good part of the island to explore yet."
But, as they went farther on, it became more and more evident that there was no one on the island but themselves—that is, unless the mysterious man was hidden somewhere between them and their first camp—a distance of about a mile.
"We'll cover that, and then all there is to do is to sail back home," proposed Andy, as they started on the last lap of their search, after eating a hasty lunch. It had stopped raining, for which they were very thankful.
There was one more cave to explore, and this was soon proved to contain nothing but a colony of bats, which they disturbed with their flashing light.
"I hope our boat's safe," mused Frank as they headed for the place where they had left it. "I don't fancy swimming out to theGull."
"Oh, it will be all right," asserted Andy confidently. "There she is," he added a moment later, as he made the turn around a jutting rock. "She hasn't been moved since we slept under her."
Together they approached their boat. As he neared it Frank looked critically at some marks in the wet sand—a series of footprints all about the craft.
"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to them.
"Well, what about it?" asked Andy calmly. "You and I made them."
"It rained since we were here night before last," said Frank in a low voice, as if afraid someone would hear him. "Our footprints would have been washed away. Someone has been here since—a man——"
He paused and looked down the beach. An indefinable something had attracted his attention. The next moment he grasped Andy by the arm.
"There he is!" he exclaimed.
And there, about a quarter of a mile away was a man, standing beside a big wrecked motor boat that was drawn up on the beach. It was the mysterious personage for whom the Racer boys were searching.
For a moment Frank and Andy were so surprised that neither one of them could think of anything to say. It seemed almost impossible that their search should be rewarded just at the time when they had given it up. Yet there was no mistake. There was the man they wanted. At least they assumed so, for they could not make out his features at that distance. At any rate, there was the wrecked motor boat, and the tall man was critically inspecting it.
"Look! Look!" was all Andy could whisper.
"Yes," assented Frank. "Now if he'll only let us get within talking distance, and not run as he always does, we may learn something. I wish we could steal up on him quietly."
"No chance of that, I'm afraid. He knows we're here. It was he who was walking around our boat."
"Sure; and he knows it's the one from theGull. Well, the only thing to do is to go right up to him. I wonder what he wants with that boat, anyhow? See, he's poking into it as if there were gold or diamonds concealed in it."
"Perhaps there are. Maybe that's the mystery," said the younger Racer lad eagerly.
"Oh, you got that out of some of the books you read. But I can't understand how we could have missed him."
Andy did not answer. Instead he grabbed his brother and pulled him down on the sand behind the boat. It was only just in time, for the man had turned and was gazing back toward the overturned craft.
"I hope he didn't see us," whispered Andy.
"We must lay low until we think of some plan. Maybe he'll get down inside the motor boat and then we can get up to him before he knows it. But I tell you what I think, Frank," he went on, "either that man was hiding in some cave farther back than we looked, or he has just arrived."
"The motor boat has just arrived, anyhow, or at least since night before last," assented the elder lad. "We couldn't have overlooked that. Say, Andy, he is getting inside! Now's our chance!"
They saw, by peering over the edge of their craft, that the mysterious man had climbed over the half-burned rail of the damaged motor boat. His back was toward them, and they could not see his head. He appeared to be tearing the interior of the craft apart.
Cautiously the two brothers crept out from behind their shelter and made their way softly over the sand toward where the man was. What they intended to do when they confronted him they hardly knew. Frank was sure that he wanted to ask the queer stranger certain questions, and he hoped to be able to plead with him to tell what he knew of Paul Gale. The question was, whether or not the man would answer.
It was lucky that their footsteps made no sound on the soft sand, for they were thus enabled to approach to within a short distance of the wreck as it rested on the beach. The man was still in it, and they could hear him pounding and splitting wood in the interior. Evidently he was not aware of their presence.
For the first time since they had begun their surprising series of adventures, the boys were able to make out the name of the strange craft. It was theSwallow, and as they had a chance to look at her graceful lines they realized that, before the fire, wreck, and explosion the boat had been a powerful one.
"I think we have him this time," whispered Andy, as they came nearer and nearer, and the man was still bending over with his back toward them.
Frank laid his finger across his lips as a sign of caution. At that moment an unfortunate thing happened. Andy stepped on a shell, not seeing it, and it broke under his weight with a sharp, crackling sound.
Like a flash the man leaped up, and fairly sprang out of the boat. He stood confronting the Racer boys.
"Who are you? What do you want?" he demanded sharply. Then, as he recognized them, he added: "Oh, it's you two again. Didn't I warn you to stop following me?"
"We didn't choose to," retorted Frank calmly. "We've found you after a good deal of trouble, and we intend to end this mystery now. A boy's life—the life of Paul Gale—hangs in the balance."
"As if I cared," sneered the man. "You have had your trouble for your pains. I shall tell you nothing, and I order you off this island."
"We're not going!" exclaimed Andy firmly. "This is a public place, and we have as much right here as you have. Besides, you haven't any cannon now, and we're two to one."
"Oh, you are; eh?" demanded the man in an ugly voice. "We'll see about that. Once more I order you to stop following me; do you hear?"
"We're not going to let you get away until you answer our questions!" declared Frank. "We demand to know what you are doing with Paul's boat, and we want to know what his full name is, so that we can communicate with his friends."
"You'll never know from me!" fairly shouted the man. "And I defy you to get anything out of me. I'm not going to be bothered with you. Come on, men, here are these two bothersome boys! Let's get rid of them!" he suddenly cried, waving his hand as if at someone approaching Andy and Frank from the rear.
Involuntarily they turned, but the next instant they heard a triumphant laugh, and when they turned back, having seen no one, they beheld the mysterious man racing across the sands toward the interior of the island.
"Quick! After him!" cried Frank.
"Yes, we mustn't let him get away again!" added his brother.
They set off after the stranger at full speed. He was running rapidly, now and then glancing over his shoulder at them.
All at once he changed his course, and darted around a small rocky promontory. The tide was rising and he had to step into the water to make the turn.
"After him!" yelled Frank again.
The two brothers made the turn, and just far enough behind the man to see him dart into the black entrance of a small cave. It was one they had looked into, but into which they had not penetrated far.
"Now we've got him!" yelled Andy. "There's no way out of that! Come on, Frank!"
Together the two brothers entered the dark cavern. The change from the glaring sunlight on the sands to intense gloom made them pause for a moment, and they heard from somewhere in the blackness of the rear a sinister chuckle.
"He's in here," declared Andy. "We have him now."
The two pressed forward resolutely in the darkness. Of what lay before them—the danger from a desperate man and the danger of the cavern they knew not—they only resolved to end the mystery if possible.
"Where are you, Frank?" called Andy.
"Right here. Give me your hand. It won't do to get lost in this darkness. Where are you?"
The two brothers groped about in the darkness until they had found each other.
"Listen," whispered the older one. "Do you hear him?"
In the silence and blackness there came to them the sound of retreating footsteps, and of small stones and particles of earth falling.
"He must be climbing up," said Andy. "This cave is bigger than we thought, and he must know the place, even in the dark.
"Itisas dark as a pocket," complained Frank. "I can't see anything."
"Wait!" suddenly exclaimed Andy. "Why didn't we think of them before?Our pocket electrics. They'll do the trick!"
"Sure enough."
An instant later two small but powerful gleams of light cut the blackness of the cavern, and the boys were enabled to see so they could hurry ahead. They could still hear the man retreating before them.
"We're coming!" cried Andy in reckless bravado.
"Hush! He'll hear you," cautioned his mother.
"What of it? I want him to. He'll see our lights anyhow. But I think we have him trapped."
"If there isn't another outlet to the cave. But come on."
Forward they pressed. They could still hear the noise made by the man, and once they were startled by his mocking laugh. So close was it that they knew he must have doubled on his tracks returned toward them.
"There are several passages in this cave, I'm sure of it," declaredFrank. "We'll have to be careful not to get lost."
"That's right. This fellow must be at home here. But the floor is beginning to slope upward. Say, it's damp in here, all right," Andy added, as he stepped into a little puddle of water.
"From the rain, I guess," replied Frank.
"Hu! How could rain get in here?"
"It must have soaked in through the roof. But we can't talk and listen for that man. Let's hurry on."
Once more they advanced, but they became confused by many windings and turnings of the dark passages, until Frank called a halt.
"Let's consider a bit," he said to his brother. "We can't go on this way. We've got to mark some of these passages so we'll know them again if we come by. Otherwise we'll get all confused."
"Good idea. Make some scratches on them with your knife. That will do."
Frank quickly did this and they pressed on. Occasionally they called to the man, but he did not answer them now—not even by his mocking laugh. They, however, could still hear him.
"He's leading us on a wild goose chase!" declared Frank at length."The first thing we know he'll get back to the entrance and escape."
"Then one of us had better go to the mouth of the cave and either stop him, or else be there to give the alarm when he tries to get out," proposed Andy. "I'll go."
"No, I think we'd better stick together," suggested his brother. "That man is too dangerous for one of us to tackle alone. We may catch up to him any moment now, and I hope he'll give in, and tell us what we want to know."
Without the portable electric lights which they each carried it would have been impossible for the Racer boys to have found their way about the cave. They marveled how it was that the mysterious man could follow the windings and turnings in the dark, but, as they learned afterward, he had been in the cave before.
Back and forth, up and down, here and there, like following some will-o'-the-wisp went the boys. At times they thought they had lost the object of their pursuit, but again they would hear him hurrying on ahead of them.
"Hold on a minute!" suddenly exclaimed Frank, when he had led the way down a steep descent. "I don't like this."
"Like what?" asked Andy, in some alarm.
"This chase. That man knows what he's doing and we don't. If he wanted to he could have been out of this cave a dozen times or more, yet he's staying in and leading us on. He has some object in it, and I don't mind confessing that I'm afraid of it."
"How do you mean afraid?"
"I think we may come to some harm. He fairly enticed us in here and now he's playing with us as a cat does with a mouse. I'm going to stop and go back to the entrance."
"Well, perhaps you're right," admitted Andy, and it was quite an admission for him, as he was always willing to take more risks than was his brother. "We'll stand still a few minutes and see what happens."
They remained there, quiet in the darkness. For a time not a sound broke the stillness. Then, with startling suddenness came a hail:
"Well, why don't you catch me?"
"Catch me?" repeated the echoes, and there followed a mocking laugh.
"Here he is!" cried Andy. "Off to the left."
"No, the right," insisted Frank. "Over this way."
"All right," agreed Andy, and he followed his brother.
Hardly had he spoken than there rang throughout the cave a dull, booming sound. It seemed to shake the ground.
"He's exploded something!" cried Frank, coming to a halt. He flashed his electric torch around, but could see nothing. He and his brother were in a low, rock-roofed passage.
"It sounded like something falling," was Andy's opinion. "Let's go forward and see what it was."
They had not gone forward more than a dozen steps before they were halted by the sound of a voice—the voice of the mysterious man.
"Maybe you'll take a warning next time!" he sneered. "I think you've followed me once too often. This is the end."
They could hear him hastening away. Then came silence.
"What did he mean?" asked Andy.
"I don't know," replied his brother. "Let's look."
Andy was in the lead. Slowly he advanced, flashing his electric light.Then he came to a halt.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank.
"I can't go any farther. The passage ends here in a solid rock."
"Then we'll have to go back. I thought he was fooling us. He wanted to get us in some side chamber, so he could make his escape from the entrance. Hurry back."
They fairly ran to the other end of the passageway, retracing their steps. This time Frank was ahead. Suddenly he came to a halt.
"Well, why don't you go on?" asked Andy.
"I can't. There's a big rock here."
"A rock? There wasn't any there when we came in."
"I know it, but it's fallen down since. The passage is closed."
"Closed!" gasped Andy. "Then I know what happened. That was the noise we heard. That man toppled this rock down to trap us here. We're caught, Frank! Caught!"
For a moment the older brother did not answer. Then he replied:
"It does looks so. But we'll try to shove this stone out of the way.Come on, lend a hand."
Together the boys pushed and shoved. But all to no purpose. Flashing their lights on the obstruction, they saw that it had fallen down in a wedged-shaped place, dove-tailing itself in so that no power short of dynamite could loosen it. The hopelessness of moving it struck them at once.
"The other end!" cried Frank. "We must try to get out the other way!"
Back they raced along the passage, slipping stumbling on the wet, rocky floor. But it only to come face to face with a solid wall of rock.
"No use trying to get through there," said Andy. "We must try to move the big rock."
"We can't," spoke Frank. "I think——" But he never finished that sentence. Instead focused his light down on the stone floor of passage in the cave. A thin stream of water trickling along it.
"Look! Look!" whispered Andy.
"Yes," answered his brother in a low voice. "The tide is rising. It's running into the cave, and we—we're trapped here, Andy. No wonder that man said it was the last time. We're trapped by the rising tide!"
"Frank, are you there?"
"Yes, Andy. Give me your hand."
The two brothers spoke softly. It was in the darkness of the cave, for they had both released the pressure on the springs of their portable lights to make the little dry batteries last as long as possible. It was several minutes after the first awful discovery of the incoming tide, and they had maintained a silence until the younger lad, unable to longer endure the strain, had called out.
Silently they clasped hands in the blackness.
"Frank, do you—do you think there's any way out?"
"Why, of course there is, Andy. All we've got to do is to wait a while, and someone will surely come to our rescue. Father and mother know we started for this island, and if we don't get home soon they'll start a searching party after us."
"Yes, but the rising tide, Frank. We—we may drown."
"Nonsense. The water can't get very high in here. We'll simply go to the highest part of the passage, and wait until the tide goes out. That won't be so very long. What makes me mad though, is to think how that man fooled us. That was his object all along. He wanted to get us in here so he could drop that rock across the opening and have us caged."
"Can't we try to get out?" asked Andy. his usually joyous spirits had departed. He was very much subdued now, and in the momentary flash of his light, which he permitted himself, Frank saw that his brother was very pale.
"Of course we'll try!" exclaimed the elder lad, with all the assurance he could put into his voice. "Perhaps we can manage it, too. Let's have a try. It's of no use to do it here. We must go back to where he pushed down the rock. Perhaps it isn't in as tight as we thought at first. Come on. But don't use your light. Mine is enough, and we must save them as long as we can."
By the gleam of the single electric torch they made their way back. Soon they were at the rock which made them prisoners. It loomed grim and black in the semi-darkness.
"The water's higher," said Andy, in a low voice. Frank had noticed that, for it now reached to his ankles as he splashed his way back along the passage. But he had said nothing, hoping Andy had not observed it.
"Yes," said the older boy cheerfully, "It's bound to rise until the tide is at flood, and then—why, it will go down again—that's all."
"But suppose it fills this cave?"
"Nonsense! It can't. I'm not going to suppose anything of the sort.Now come on. Let's see if we can move this rock."
Together they pressed on the stone with all their strength. They might as well have tried to budge the side of a mountain. The rock was firmly wedged in place.
"It's no use," spoke Andy, in a dull, hopeless tone.
"Oh, don't give up so easily," urged his brother. "If we can't do it one way, we may another. See, it has slid down in a sort of groove. Only a little ridge of rock on either side holds it in place. Now if we can break away those upright ridges, which are like the pieces on a window sash up and down which the window slides, we may be able to push the rock out. Let's try. Use your knife and take a rock for a hammer."
Frank placed his torch on a ledge of rock, tying the spring down by a piece of cord so that the light would focus on the big bowlder. Then, with their pocket-knives as chisels, and stones as mallets, they began their futile attempts to cut away the holding ridges of rock.
That it was a futile attempt was soon made evident, for their knives slipped off the flint-like stone, and several times when the blades unexpectedly shut, the lads received severe cuts on their hands.
Suddenly Andy uttered an exclamation:
"The water! It's getting deeper!" he cried
It was up to their knees now.
"Of course it getting deeper," said Frank, with a cheerfulness that he was far from feeling. "The tide isn't half in yet."
Andy shuddered.
"What will we do when it's high water?" he asked.
Frank did not answer, but kept on chipping away at the rock. He managed to break off several pieces, but it was easy to see that it would take much more work to loosen the retaining ridges so that the bowlder that imprisoned them would fall outward.
"There it goes!" suddenly exclaimed the older brother in despair."I've broken my knife blade! You'll have to do all the work, Andy."
"Oh, what's the use?" sighed the younger lad. "The water is coming in faster. See, it's up to our waists now, and the tide is nowhere at full! We're doomed, Frank!"
"Not a bit of it. See that ledge of rock up there? We'll climb up on it and wait until the water goes down. Then maybe someone will come for us, or we can get out. Climb up, Andy. We won't try to break off any more rock."
Frank helped his brother to take a position on the narrow ledge. It was barely wide enough for two, but, somehow, they managed to cling to it. The surface was wet, and there were little puddles of water here and there. Seeing them in the gleam of his light, Frank could not repress a shudder.
"The tide must come up even to here," he thought. "If it comes up to the roof—well, that's the end of us." But he said nothing to Andy.
Slowly the water rose. They boys watched it, sitting on the narrow ledge with their feet and legs dangling off. From time to time Frank would flash his light on the little lapping waves.
"It will soon stop," he said, as cheerfully as he could. But he did not believe himself. He held Andy's hand in a firm grip.
Higher and higher rose the tide. It was at the knees of the boys now, and still mounting.
"Let's stand up," proposed Frank at length. "I'm tired of sitting."
They took an upright position on the ledge of rock. Their heads just touched the rocky roof of the cave. In fact Frank, who was a trifle taller than his brother, had to stoop.
"Now we'll be all right, Andy," he said. "We can stand here until the water goes down."
"If—if it doesn't touch the roof," was the solemn answer.
Frank said nothing.
Standing on the ledge, high above the floor the cave, the water now lapped their ankles once more. Frank could feel it creeping higher—ever higher. In spite of himself, a horrible fear took possession of him. Death was very near, he thought—a terrible death by drowning in the cave where they were caged like rats in a trap.
"Do you know how high the tide rises on this island?" asked Andy after a pause. His voice sounded strange in that hollow, dark place, amid the ceaseless lapping of the water on the rocks.
"How high? No, but it can't get much higher," answered Frank as cheerfully as he could. "It's been rising some time now, and it must stop soon."
"It seems a long time, but it isn't," went on Andy in that quiet voice. "Look, it's seven o'clock," and he held out his watch, illuminating it with the flashing electric light.
"Seven in the evening," murmured Frank. "It must be getting dark outside." It had been dark from the beginning in the cave.
"Seven o'clock in the evening," went on Andy, "and we came in here about four! The tide has several hours to rise yet, and——"
He did not finish, but he glanced down at the water that was steadily rising up on their legs. It was chilling them, yet they dared not move much for fear of toppling off the narrow ledge.
Frank did not answer. He was busy trying to think of some way of escape. Yet, rack his brain as he did, no way out of the cave seemed possible. Were they doomed to die there?
"Can we climb any higher?" asked Andy, after another period of silence. "If we could, we might get out of reach of the water, even when the tide is full. Let's turn on both our lights and look at the wall back of us."
They had been saving the fast-waning current in the electric lamps against the time of need. They might have but little further use for it, so both Andy and his brother pressed the springs that turned on the gleaming lights.
In the glow they could see the black and gurgling water at their knees. It was swirling around from the force of the tide outside that was rushing into the cave. Though the stone thrown down by the man at the entrance prevented our heroes from escaping, the bowlder did not fit so tightly but what water could come in.
"Now to see what's back of us," spoke Frank, turning around as well as he could on the small shelf, and flashing his light on the wall behind him.
"Say!" suddenly exclaimed Andy, "doesn't it strike you that the water isn't coming in so fast is it was?"
Frank held his light lower, and looked at the rising tide.
"There doesn't seem to be quite so much force to it," admitted the elder Racer lad, "but I'm afraid that's only because it's higher, and because it has to wind in and out of so many passages, and force itself under and around the rock which that scoundrel threw down. I wish we had him here!"
"I guess he's far enough off by this time," remarked Andy. "But let's see if there's a way to get higher up."
Together they examined the wall of the cave against which they had been leaning. Frank uttered a cry of joy.
"It's mostly dirt, not stone!" he exclaimed. "We can cut steps in it, and climb up. Maybe we can get high enough so that the tide won't reach us, or at least we can keep our heads above water until it goes down. Come on, where's your knife?"
Working by turns, with the only knife available between them, the boys began frantically cutting niches or steps in the dirt wall. Fortunately it was packed hard enough so that it did not crumble. They took turns at the desperate labor, one holding the torch, and the other wielding the knife.
All the while the tide kept coming higher, until it was now to their waists. But they had not yet made enough notches to enable them to stand up, clinging by their hands and toes. For it needed four niches for each lad—eight laboriously-cut holes in the wall, four niches for the hands and four for the feet, some distance apart. Even when this was done it would only raise them about twenty inches. Would that be enough?
"We can't cut any more after this," said Frank dully, when they had almost finished the eight.
"Why not?"
"Because we can't hold on in these and cut any more. The footing isn't good enough. If we only had a sort of platform to stand on, we could reach up higher. As it is, I'm afraid this isn't going to do much good—that is for very long. The water is still rising."
"If we only had some sticks," exclaimed Andy hopelessly. "We could drive them in the dirt, leaving the ends projecting, and then we could go up, like on a ladder."
"But we haven't any sticks."
"Maybe there are some on the shelf where are standing; imbedded in it."
It was a slim chance, but worth trying, and by turns they stooped over and felt down beneath the water. This had the effect of wetting them to their shoulders, but not a piece of wood could they discover. Helplessly they stared at each other in the dying gleam of their electric torches. Relentlessly the water mounted higher.
"We might as well get up in the niches," said Andy, after another long pause. "We may not be able to climb if we wait too long."
"Wait as long as possible," advised his brother in a low voice.
"Why so?"
"Because it's going to be hard to cling there. It's a stiff position to hold, and we ought to stay here, where we have a good footing, as long as possible. There's time enough when the water gets up to our shoulders."
It was like waiting for almost certain death, but the boys never lost their hearts. Somehow they felt that there would be a way out—yet how it would come they dared not even imagine. They only hoped and—waited.
"We'd better climb up now," said Frank at length. "You go first, Andy, and get a good hold. I'll follow."
"Why don't you go first?"
"Oh, you might fall."
"So might you."
"Go ahead, I tell you!" and Frank spoke more sharply to his brother than he had ever done before. Andy turned and clambered up in the niches. They had cut them slanting to give their feet and hands a better grip, and this was a wise provision, for it was desperate holding at best.
Frank followed his brother, and then, at the last stand, they clung there together, listening to the lapping of the water that, raised up as they were, even now wet their legs.
How long they clung thus they did not know. It seemed a long time, but it could not have been more than fifteen minutes they agreed afterward, for the water did not gain much. But suddenly the silence of the night outside was broken by a loud report.
"Signal guns!" exclaimed Andy. "Some vessel is in distress."
"No, that's thunder!" said Frank. "There's a storm coming up. But we won't know it—in here."
"I hope our boat is safe, and that theGullis well anchored," went on the younger lad anxiously.
"As if that mattered," thought Frank, but he did not say so. He began to think they would never have any further use for their craft. He choked back the dreadful fear that seemed to take possession of him.
Once more came a terrific clap of thunder, and it seemed to shake the very island to its center.
"It's a fierce one," murmured Andy.
In quick succession came a number of awful reports. The earthy wall to which they were clinging seemed to tremble. The water gurgled below them, rising higher and higher.
"I wonder—" began Andy, after a terrific clap, but his words were silenced in the thunderous vibration that followed. It was the hardest clap yet, and the boys felt a tingling, numbing sensation in their fingers.
"That struck near here!" yelled Frank.
His face was turned upward toward the roof of the cavern. He felt something falling on his cheeks. It seemed to be particles of dirt. Then he felt a dampness that was not from the waters below him. More particles fell.
"What's the matter?" cried Andy. "Something is happening. What is it?"
Before Frank could answer, had he known what was taking place, there came a loud splash in the water at Andy's left.
"Is that you Frank? Have you fallen?" he called desperately.
"No, I'm here," replied his brother. "That must have been part of the side or roof of the cave jarred off by the thunder. Hold fast, Andy."
There came a second splashing sound in the water, followed by another. The drops of dampness and particles of earth continued to rain into the faces of the lads.
"The cave's crumbling in!" cried Andy. "The roof is falling."
"Hold—" began Frank.
A roar interrupted him. Suddenly the cave seemed to be illuminated by a dazzling light bluish in color. By it the boys could see each other as they clung to the wall. They could see the black and swirling waters now waist high. But they could see something else.
They could look up and out through a jagged hole in the roof of the cavern, and through that opening they had a glimpse of the fury of the storm. They could see the lightning flashing in the sky.
For a moment the meaning of it was lost on them. Then Frank uttered a cry of hope.
"We're saved, Andy, saved! Now we can crawl up out of the top of the cave and escape. The tide can't reach us now! We're saved!"
Back in the Racer cottage there was an anxious consultation going on.It was the afternoon of the second day since Andy and Frank had gone toCliff Island, and they had not returned.
"I don't like it!" exclaimed Mr. Racer, tossing aside the paper he had been trying to read, and restlessly pacing the floor. "I wish they hadn't gone. I wish they were back."
"Don't you think they can look after themselves?" asked the mother.Usually she was the more nervous, but this time it was her husband.
"Oh, I suppose they could, ordinarily," he answered. "But this is different."
"How, Dick?" and there was an anxious note in Mrs. Racer's voice. She had just come in from a tennis tournament to find that her husband had returned from New York earlier than usual. Now she began to realize the cause. It was on account of the boys.
"Well, there's a storm coming up, for one thing, and then there's that man. I wish Andy and Frank hadn't started after him."
"It was to help Paul, dear."
"I know. They meant all right, but they're too daring. However, it can't be helped. Where's Paul?"
"He felt so well that he went for a little walk. He said he'd go down toward the pier and see if he could see or hear anything of the boys.
"Well, I'm glad he's getting better." Mr. Racer once more tried to read the paper, but gave it up.
"You're nervous," said his wife, as he tossed it aside.
"Yes, I am. Nothing is worse than sitting still, and waiting—waiting for something to happen.
"Oh, Dick! I'm sure you don't want anything to happen!"
"Of course not. But I don't like this weather."
Paul came in at that moment. The glow off health was beginning to reappear in his pale cheeks.
"Well?" asked Mr. Racer quickly.
"They're not in sight," answered the lad who did not know who he was."And Captain Trent says a bad storm is brewing."
"That settles it!" exclaimed Mr. Racer. He started up and took down an old overcoat and hat.
"Where are you going?" asked his wife in alarm.
"I'm going for those boys. I can't stand it any longer."
"But how can you get to Cliff Island if a storm is coming up? You have no boat, and to row—"
"I don't intend to row. Mr. Lacey, a friend of mine, put in here with his big motor boat a little while ago. I saw him as I got off the New York steamer, and he said he might stay here a couple of days. His craft is at the pier float. I know he'll take me to Cliff Island, blow or no blow, and hisNormais big enough to weather quite a sea."
"Oh, Dick, I'm afraid to have you go!"
"Oh, there's no danger, but there might be to our boys, and I'm going to the rescue. Don't worry. I may be able to get out to the island and back before dark. They're probably scouting around, looking for that man, and he isn't there at all. They think they're having a good time, but they don't realize what the weather is going to be."
Mr. Racer went on with his preparations for being out in the storm. Mrs. Racer, after the first alarm, agreed with him that it was best to go after the boys.
"Do you think that I—that is—Oh, mayn't I go?" burst out Paul Gale. "I'd like to help. Andy and Frank have done so much for me. Can't I go?"
"I'm afraid you're not strong enough," objected Mr. Racer.
"Oh, but I am!" insisted the lad. "I believe it will do me good. But can't you ask Dr. Martin?"
They were saved the necessity of calling the physician up on the telephone for he drove past at that moment and Mr. Racer hailed him. The case was soon stated.
"I agree with you that it is a good thing to go after Andy and Frank," said the medical man. "As for taking Paul along—hum—well, I don't know."
"Oh, I'm all right, doctor," insisted the lad again.
"You certainly have gained much strength in the last few days," went on the physician. "If you take care of yourself perhaps it won't do you any harm. But don't exert yourself too much."
"No," promised Paul eagerly. Then, as he hurried to his room to get ready, Dr. Martin said to Mr. Racer in a low voice:
"I'm not so sure but what it won't be a good thing for him. He lost his memory in a storm, you know, and if there is a little blow out in the bay his mind may be restored again. We doctors don't know as much about the brain as we'd like to. It can't do any harm to try it, especially as you are going in a big, safe boat. Good luck to you."
Mrs. Racer parted with her husband and Paul rather tearfully. The signs of the storm increased as the two went down to the pier. Mr. Racer found his friend there, and Mr. Lacey readily agreed to the use of his boat.
"I'll pilot you to the island myself," he said generously, "and I'll tell the engineer and crew to make all the speed they can. We've got lots of gasolene, and I guess we can weather almost any blow that's due this time of year."
They were soon speeding away from the pier, and the sharp prow of theNormawas turned in the direction of Cliff Island. Clouds were rapidly gathering and there was an occasional muttering of thunder.
Paul Gale kept to the cabin, as the wind had freshened since they started and there was quite a sea on, that sent the spume and spray of the salty waves across the deck.
They were longer reaching the island than they counted on, and just before they sighted it the storm broke in all its fury. But they were prepared for it, and theNormaplunged gallantly ahead through the smashing big seas of green water that at times buried her nose out of sight. Suddenly there was a slight crash forward and a shiver seemed to go through the gasolene craft.
"What's that?" cried Mr. Racer in alarm.
"We hit something," said Mr. Lacey. "Danforth, just see what it is, will you?" he asked of the mate, who was in the snug cabin with the owner and his guests.
But Mr. Racer did not wait. He rushed up on deck. TheNormahad been brought to quarter speed and the silk merchant could see, floating off to one side, a small wrecked skiff. It seemed familiar to him.
"That's what we hit, sir," explained one of crew. "Cut it right in two."
"It's my boys' boat!" cried Mr. Racer. "The one they carry on theGull. I know the shape of it, and I can see the red circle on the stern. Were they in it when we cut it down?"
"No, sir. I don't think so, sir," answered sailor as he noted the anguish of Mr. Racer. "I saw it immediately after we struck, and I'm almost sure no one was in it. I'd have seen them, sir, if there was, sir."
"Oh, but perhaps they were in it!" cried Mr. Racer. "Their sailboat may have foundered and they might have had to take to the small boat. Oh, Mr. Lacey. Wemustpick up my boys!" he added, as the owner came on deck.
"Of course. Captain Nelson, put back and circle around that boat.Light the searchlight and play it on the wreck."
"Aye, aye, sir!"
TheNormabegan the search amid the storm and gathering darkness, while the father peered over the side in anguished fear.