"If there are any of the gang around here, where on earth are they?"
The question came in a whisper from Billy, as he and the Seminole pursued their way cautiously along the edge of a watercourse, in the direction of the cabins. Bending forward, sometimes crawling on hands and knees, they advanced—-an inch at every step, it seemed to impatient Billy.
"Do you think they're hiding near here?" he asked, and Dave shook his turbaned head.
"Gone 'way," was his answer. "Boat come back to-night, mebbe so."
"Boat? What boat?"
"Esperanza."
"Oh! Then you think they'll try to leave this part of the coast soon?"
"Dunno. Wait. We see, we tellPetrel."
There was nothing else to do, so Billy curbed his eagerness to learn the present whereabouts of the smugglers and crawled forward in silence. Once he drew back with a gasp of horror as a large moccasin snake darted across his path; but seeing the loathsome creature glide away to a safe distance, he went on, following the guide. Nevertheless, a chill ran down his spine when he thought how narrowly he had escaped stumbling full tilt upon the reptile, which, unlike the rattlesnake, never gives warning of its presence.
When they had traversed the stretch of marsh between the peninsula and the cove, alternately walking on soft springy ground above a bed of coralline limestone and wading knee-deep along the watercourse, they emerged upon the left bank of the cove. The two smaller cabins were not more than twenty paces distant, and between them was a plank bridge rudely built in the form of a trestle. Dave and Billy approached this bridge.
Suddenly they stopped short and crouched in the high grass. Plainly to their ears came the shrill barking of a dog.
Dave expressed his feelings in one round oath, which, being uttered in his native dialect, sounded to Billy "Like gargling the throat."
It needed no expletives to inform Billy that the dog's appearance on the scene of action was certain to cause trouble.
"Ketch um dog, choke um!" said Dave, looking about him to see if the barking had brought anyone to the place.
"Where is the cur?" Billy asked.
"Don't see um," replied the Seminole. He straightened up until his head was above the top of the grass. "A-ah!" he exclaimed in a guttural tone. "Man in sailboat yonder."
Impulsively Billy scrambled to a kneeling position, and his gaze followed Dave's. The two spies then beheld the figure of a man seated in the stern of a dug-out canoe that carried a mast and sail and was coming around the bend of a stream.
"If he sees us——-" began Billy.
"S-s-sh!" Dave interrupted warningly. "Wait, see where he go."
"Is the dog barking at us or at him? What d'you think, Dave?"
"At us," was the answer. "Man come, let dog loose,—-we better go back! Incah!"
"No," said Billy firmly. "Dog or no dog, I'm not going back tillI've found out where they've hidden Hugh!"
If Billy had only known that Hugh was locked in that further cabin! If Hugh had only been able to communicate with his friends on picket duty! How much trouble would have been avoided,—-yet what an adventure they would have missed!
Dave now explained to Billy that his purpose had been to purloin the sailing canoe, so that the smugglers on shore would be dependent on a boat from theEsperanzato take them and their goods away. This would enable the crew of thePetrelto intercept the smugglers as soon as they landed. But now, with the appearance of this man in the canoe, Dave's plan seemed about to be thwarted.
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, what of the others who remained on the peninsula?
More than an hour passed before any one saw a suspicious figure on the landscape. Then Alec, whose post was farthest removed from the landing place, suddenly caught sight of two men walking along the shore. They were carrying the same battered tin box which he and Billy had found half buried in the sand, many hours ago. Evidently the box was heavy, for they appeared to stagger with its weight.
Alec raised his voice in the weird, low call of the otter. As his patrol was named after that animal, he knew that Chester, also of the Otter patrol, would recognize the signal. In this case it meant "Danger. Look around you."
From a distance, hidden behind a clump of palmettos, Chet responded with the same call twice, in quick succession.
But the men carrying the box heard the calls. They knew it was still too early in the afternoon for otters to be hunting so noisily, and they were surprised, startled, suspicious. To Alec's dismay, they dropped the box, stood still, and stared all around them. Alec lay flat on the ground, trusting that his khaki suit and brown flannel shirt would help him to escape observation. At the same time he dread lest one of the other pickets would be seen too soon.
The two men, after gazing out to sea as if expecting to sight a vessel on the horizon, picked up the box and came on again. Every step brought them nearer Alec, who of course had been told to allow all strangers to pass unchallenged—-until to-morrow.
"Hark!" said one of the men, listening. "That's Rover barking!"
"He barks at nothing!" declared the other. "Eet is a fool dawg, zatRover! I know heem, yes."
"You haven't as much sense as that 'fool dawg,' Max!" retorted the first speaker, who was none other than the swarthy ruffian, Harry Mole. "Somethin's going on over there at the settlement or the dog wouldn't bark. Come on, hurry; Branks may need us."
So saying, he and his companion passed by, and Alec, who had heard every word, breathed a sigh of relief. He wished the two men were not going in the same direction Dave and Billy had taken; but he felt sure that the latter could give a good account of themselves if discovered in hiding.
"But that would upset the whole scheme," he reflected. "Perhaps I'd better sneak around, ahead of those two rascals, and warn Dave and Billy to lie low? Or shall I—-no, I've been stationed here, and it's up to me to stick to this post."
As he watched the two men stumbling on over the uneven ground, he wondered with a little thrill of apprehension whether they would run across any of the other pickets, or even meet Billy and Dave returning from their quest.
However, no such undesired event came to pass, and the two smugglers finally disappeared behind a row of trees covered with vines.
After that, the watchful young pickets waited in silence, with only a low-spoken word now and then as they paced back and forth under cover to emphasize the stillness. An hour passed,—-another hour,—-the sun began its slow descent into the broad bosom of the ocean. Long before this, theArrowhad slipped away a little farther up along the coast, so that she would be out of sight behind one of the numerous islands in case theEsperanzadrew near Durgan's cove.
Once the dog's barking sounded louder, and nearer, but after a minute or two it ceased, and silence reigned over all.
"What's become of Dave and Billy?" wondered Chester.
The same question was troubling the minds of Roy Norton and Mark Anderson, in their respective station-points; but there seemed to be no answer to it at present.
Twilight crept upon them apace, then deepened into the shadows of night. As they had arranged, they left their posts and assembled at the place chosen for their landing. After hours of more-or-less solitary watching, it seemed good to be together in council, to eat their simple supper, and to compare notes.
In the midst of their evening meal, the faint purring of a motorboat's engine reached their ears, and after a few minutes a boat with two figures in it was seen approaching them, gliding almost noiselessly along one of the waterways. The occupants of the boat were Billy Worth and Dave. Reaching the place, they stopped the engine, ran the boat's nose into the soft bank, and sprang ashore.
"Where—-how——did you get it?" asked Norton in surprise.
"The boat? Oh, we just borrowed it from Joe Durgan and his friends!" Billy declared. "We saw the boat tied to a little trestle over there at the deserted settlement, and when we saw Durgan and two other men go into one of the cabins, we sneaked up quickly and took the boat from them without asking permission and got away with it!"
"Didn't they see you, or hear the engine?"
"No," answered Billy.
"That's strange! Are you sure?"
"There were no windows in the cabin, that we could see," explainedBilly, "and when they got inside, they made a lot of noise."
"Gee! won't they be wild when they find their boat gone!" said Mark.
"They may think it slipped its moorings and drifted away on the tide.At least, that's what Dave says."
The Seminole grinned. "Anyhow, they look for boat soon," he said."Something doin' tonight, you bet!"
Alec had risen and was standing erect, his face turned toward the ocean.
"What are you staring at?" queried chester. "See any stars?"
"There's just one," replied young Sands, pointing southwest. "Mighty low down—-there! Now it's out."
"No, it isn't. I see it!"
"So do I!" exclaimed Billy and Norton.
"There it is again!"
"What a queer star!"
"Perhaps it's a lighthouse. Captain Vinton said that there is one somewhere near this locality."
The sky was cloudy; there was no moon. Overhead, a few large stars glittered brilliantly, but the seeming star at which they were gazing was unlike any of those celestial lights. It steadily grew larger, yellower. Finally two lower gleams appeared, and then all three vanished, as if they had been snuffed out.
"What is it?" asked Norton, turning to Dave.
But the Seminole guide apparently did not hear the question. He was staring in the direction of the three cabins, whence arose in the murky darkness a shower of sparks, then one—-two——three shooting green stars.
"Look!" he exclaimed hoarsely.
"By Jove! a Roman candle!" ejaculated Norton. "It's a signal!"
"No star out to sea," Dave said. "No star, but um boat."
"Boat? You mean——-"
"Esperanza! She come here to-night."
Had it been daylight, the boy scouts on picket duty would have seen the same long, low, gray craft something like a built-for-speed tug boat, which had surprised Captain Vinton when it first appeared among the Keys, now coming to anchor outside Durgan's Cove, in the darkness.
As it was, however, they could see nothing after theEsperanza'slights went out; but, waiting impatiently, they presently heard the dip of oars, the faint rattle and squeaking of row-locks, and then a low whistle which seemed to come out of the quiet that brooded over the ocean.
"It's a boat from theEsperanza!" muttered Norton. "One of us had better steal back to the camp, and see what our friends are doing. Dave, you——-"
"Oh, let me go!" interposed Alec. "I can run the motor boat over to our camp and bring the soldiers here in about twenty minutes—-or less."
"My dear boy, those fellows out there who are coming ashore would be sure to hear a motor boat," declared Norton. "Even with a muffler on, the sound would reach them."
"But it's the only boat we have, .sir," said Mark, "and, when all's said, that's why Billy and Dave took it—-to bring the men over sooner than they could tramp across these flats."
"You're right, Mark; but——-"
Again he was interrupted by one of his eager young friends—-Chester, this time.
"Perhaps Dave could pole the motor boat over," he suggested.
"Could you, Dave? It's not a large boat by any means."
"Uh-huh, sure!" assented the guide. "But slow work—-lose heap time."
"No matter. Anyway, we've got to give those fellows time to land and to get to the cabins before we surround them. Go ahead, Dave; and Alec, you go with him to run the boat back. I guess you know more about a gasoline engine than any of us. Hurry now—-and good luck!"
The intrepid young scout needed no urging. Before Dave had found a suitable pole, Alec had taken his place at the stern and was pointing her in the direction of the peninsula on which Lieutenant Driscoll and his men were waiting.
In a few minutes Dave was pushing the light but substantial launch along the waterway, and almost immediately it disappeared from sight, swallowed up in the darkness.
It returned in about half an hour, crowded to the gunwales, carrying the dozen men. In the meantime, a rather startling incident had occurred.
Dave and Alec had been gone only ten minutes or so, when the assembled pickets observed a bright light burst forth from the surrounding gloom and rapidly increase until it assumed the proportions of a large bonfire.
The outlaws were carrying out the first part of their plan, which was to attract the revenue men away from the vicinity of the cabins while they effected a loading of their munitions or other contraband goods upon theEsperanza'sboat. They counted on the probability that the revenue men would hasten to put out the fire on the coast—-which was quite a little distance from the cabins—-and would be unaware of other operations at the same time.
But in this scheme they reckoned without their pursuers; for the crew of thePetrel—-even now hurrying to the scene of action—-had received information of this very ruse, and had decided to ignore it and to make directly for Durgan's Cove.
Not knowing that theArrowwas lying near, or that the dozen men from the fort, with the scout pickets, were already on the scene, those energetic seamen of thePetrelwere bending every effort to reach the smugglers' headquarters on time.
Captain Bego, of theEsperanza, however, knew that thePetrelwas on his trail, and he was all the more anxious to make "a getaway with the goods."
The bonfire, instead of dying down at last, seemed to rise higher and higher, casting a lurid glow over the marshes and streams, and even upon the dark waters of the ocean. Made of driftwood, bundles of dried saw-grass and withered cypress boughs—-industriously piled on by Max, the half-breed, who had been sent there for that very purpose—-it blazed merrily, and a shower of sparks swirled around it, veering toward the cabins. To all appearances, the three cabins seemed doomed to take fire; in which case nothing could save them or their contents.
The soldiers from the fort and Dave had disappeared into the darkness of the deeper shadows.
Eager to see the fire and to find out what was going on in that vicinity, Billy, Alec, and Roy Norton crept forth from their hiding place and approached the glowing beacon.
For the most part, they followed the bank of a creek or inlet which, like all its fellows, wound and zig-zagged through the springy turf of the marsh. This particular waterway reflected the glow of the bonfire more brightly than the others, from which fact they deduced that it would be the most direct path.
On getting nearer, the hum of human voices showed them that a number of men had assembled, some of whom were engaged in throwing water over the blaze, others in patrolling the beach. Evidently the bonfire was burning too high and casting too much light to suit their purposes.
"Who are they?" queried Alec in a whisper.
"I don't know," answered Norton as quietly.
"Look!" Billy exclaimed softly. "There are three mulattoes in that bunch over by the dune. And see that tall, skinny, dark man with the oilskin coat over his left arm? That must be Captain Bego."
"He certainly looks like Vinton's descriptions," Norton observed.
"And he's giving orders as if he——-"
"Hark! What's that noise?"
Breathlessly they waited and listened.
After another full minute they again heard the sound—-a low rumbling, like distant thunder.
"Gee! it sounds dangerous," said Billy.
"I wish we knew what it was."
"I can make a pretty good guess," Norton added, still whispering."It's a——-"
In the middle of his sentence he was interrupted by a shout from one of the mulattos.
"Boat! Boat comin'!" cried the man, running toward the others, who by this time had almost extinguished the bonfire. His announcement was distinctly heard by the three hidden scouts.
"Wonder if he has seen our captured launch or a boat out at sea?" said Alec.
"Boys, he means—-thePetrel!"
"Oh!" the other two exclaimed dubiously.
"How do you know?" demanded Billy. "How can you tell?"
"It's just a guess on my part," Norton admitted readily; "but before we came ashore today, Vinton told me that he wouldn't be at all surprised if thePetrelcame cruising back this way by evening; and so, when that fellow came running up with the news, my first thought was that thePetrelwas not far off."
"But where are the soldiers all this while?" asked Alec. "Why haven't they followed us here?"
"They may have gone to the cabins, instead," replied Norton.
"Perhaps Dave has guided them to the bonfire by another way, and they're just waiting to make an attack when that fire-raising gang start toward the cabins."
"I guess you're right, Billy. Come on, let's get nearer."
With one accord, the three moved forward.
As yet, neither the soldiers nor the revenue men had appeared on the scene. In spite of his shrewd guess, Norton began to believe that the smugglers, having come to the conclusion that their bonfire was not necessary, after all—-because they fondly imagined thePetrelwas far away down the coast—-would waste no more time trying to attract the cutter to that spot, but would proceed boldly, under cover of darkness, to run their goods from the cabins to theEsperanza.
Such seemed to be Bego's decision, also; for as Roy, Billy, and Alec drew nearer, they heard the swarthy leader directing most of his men to "shoulder arms and march over to Durgan's headquarters."
Presently the group near the bonfire was diminished by the departure of eight or nine men, who picked their way gingerly over the uneven ground, muttering directions to one another as they went Billy could hardly restrain his impulse to follow them.
At one time they passed so close to the ambushed pickets that the latter could distinguish the words "after midnight" and "set the boy loose."
"They're talking about Hugh," said Billy to himself, and his heart beat fast with excitement. The words gave him assurance that his chum was alive, which was some comfort.
"I think I'll just have to follow them," he mused a few moments later; and telling Norton and Alec that he would be back very soon, he slipped away, trailing Bego's men, before Norton could prevent him from going.
It would have been better for Billy had he remained in hiding; but he was eager to know how Durgan and his confederates would manage to run their cargo on board theEsperanza, having no motor boat to use; and he was even more eager to find out what had become of Hugh.
Without stopping longer, therefore, in the neighborhood of the bonfire, he hurried away toward the spot at which he had heard the men propose to run the cargo.
He must have crept onward for ten minutes or so, when he head a pistol fired.
The shot was followed by two or three others in quick succession.
This made him more than ever eager to find out what was happening. He doubled his speed. Fortunately, by mere chance, he had stumbled upon the very stretch of ground which he and Dave had traversed earlier in the day; the trail was fairly good, and he knew just how to proceed.
All this while he had not seen a single person, and he had not been seen by any of the smugglers.
After a few minutes he heard more shots sounding much nearer, then shouts and hoarse yells, mingled with the sharp staccato of pistols and rifles. He felt sure that by this time the soldiers under Lieutenant Driscoll had come up and were having a lively fight with the outlaws, the latter trying to defend their property, and the former to confiscate it.
At any moment he expected to find that the men whom he was following were returning to the beach to join their comrades; but evidently they had received strict orders to go straight to the cabins, for they went on, and he followed them. Now he availed himself of all the knowledge of stalking and trailing which he had gained in scoutcraft games at Pioneer Camp.
Which party, the soldiers or the smugglers, would succeed in their object seemed doubtful. The darkness was intense, and though Billy pictured the whole scene, as yet he could not see anything except an occasional spurt of flame as a revolver or rifle spat viciously. Even the forms of the men he was following had disappeared from view. This did not discourage him, for he was used to following a trail in the dark.
Still he stumbled onward, forgetting that bullets flying about were no respecters of persons.
At last he reached the top of a low mound whence he could see dimly a number of dark figures scurrying hither and thither. From their actions and from the babel of shouts, commands, oaths and shooting that came from the little clearing around the huts, he judged that they were engaged in a determined struggle.
That the soldiers were having the best of it, he had no doubt. It appeared to him that they had captured not only part of the intended cargo but also some of Bego's men; while others, bolder villains, seemed to be trying to rescue their comrades.
In his rejoicing over this turn of affairs, he gave a yell of triumph—-and just at that moment a bullet whizzed over his shoulder, almost searing his neck! The yell quavered on his lips, and he dropped down on his knees, which were trembling and knocking together.
"Whew! that came pretty close to yours truly!" said Billy, speaking aloud as if he expected some one to hear him. "That's what might be called being 'under fire,' and I don't like the sensation—-not by a long shot!"
Even in moments of danger or of distress, Billy managed to see the funny side of circumstances. He grinned now at his little joke, but all the while he was intently scanning the scene before him and wondering if he would be drawn into taking part in it. Also, he was anxious to know where his friends were at that moment. Would they join in the fray?
Suddenly his eager gaze was shifted to a new quarter. He stared, wide-eyed and breathless.
Out of the night, running like mad along the shore and across the acres of sand and clay and mud, came a body of men armed with rifles. They were making directly toward the scene of conflict as fast as they could find their difficult way.
"Who are they? Where have they come from?" Billy wondered.
And then, like a flash, he understood. "Oh!" he gasped. "Oh, I know, I know now! They're the men from thePetrel! Marines, I guess—-if that's what you call 'em."
It was true; the new arrivals were the Revenue Service men, and as it chanced, they had come just in the nick of time. For Joe Durgan, Branks, Harry Mole, Max, the villainous half-breed, and others at the huts, were being reinforced by Bego's followers who had hurried up from the bonfire; and they were beating back the soldiers, whom they now outnumbered.
Suddenly Billy heard another yell, a wild, eerie, shrill call, and Dave, leading Norton and the Boy Scouts, sprang from their boat which had crept up to the farther side of the clearing, and dashed forward to meet the crew of thePetrel.
Recognizing them even in the darkness—-which now began to be relieved by stray gleams of moonlight struggling out of the clouds—-the revenue men turned to the left under Dave's guidance, and took a short-cut, coming up in the rear of the battle.
Alone on the little mound, Billy realized that he was separated from his reunited scout friends and their allies by a small mob of desperately fighting men. He was cut off from the rest by reason of Dave's having steered the boat along a watercourse of which he, Billy, knew nothing; in fact, he had lost his bearings and knew not in which direction the improvised camp lay.
However, the conflict before him absorbed his thoughts and left him no time to worry about his own predicament. He was still wondering how the revenue men had happened to arrive at a critical time.
The explanation was as follows:
Unknown to Billy or to any of his friends, thePetrelhad steamed full speed to Palmetto Key; and Captain Vinton, sighting the cutter from the deck of the concealedArrow, had signaled to her captain, telling him just where to land his men. This accounted for their unexpected arrival, which soon turned the tide of battle in their favor.
Creeping forward, Billy saw the smugglers fleeing in all directions, after setting fire to the two smaller cabins. As they ran, they exchanged shots with the soldiers and the revenue men; but, owing to the gloom, these shots failed to take much effect, beyond slightly wounding their captors. Fired on in turn, they ran toward the beach, past their smouldering bonfire, near which their boat was drawn up on the sands waiting to take them back to theEsperanza.
The light of the blazing huts now illumined the scene, and in the glow, Norton caught sight of Billy running toward them. He hailed the lad with a shout:
"Hi! Hurry up, Billy! Where have you been all this time?"
"Watching the fight!" shouted Billy, whose voice sounded doleful. "Wishing I could butt into it earlier! Come on, come on! We're chasing 'em!"
"Hold on!" Norton exclaimed loudly. "We've had about enough of this. Here we'll stay, my boy, and let our better-armed friends capture the gang. When they get to their boat it will be a case of 'first come, first served' to get away. Most of them'll be caught and captured. Meanwhile, it's up to us to find Hugh. He must be in that largest shanty there, unless——-"
"Come on!" yelled Billy, seeing his brother scouts already commencing the search.
He dashed over to the remaining shanty and flung himself against the door.
"Hugh, Hugh!" he called. "Are you in there?"
No answer—-only the roaring and crackling of the flames as they devoured the old walls and crumbling roof of the nearby abandoned dwellings.
"Hugh!" shouted Alec and Chester, banging on the door, while Mark ran around the cabin, looking in vain for a window or other means of entrance.
The door gave way and the three scouts rushed in, followed by Norton.
Dave stood in the doorway, his lanky form with the red glare of the fire behind it casting a grotesque shadow on the interior wall of the cabin. He remained there on guard, lest any of the smugglers should return.
Alec struck a match. Its sputtering flame lighted the single room, dispelling the shadows for a brief moment. Anxiously they all peered around the dingy shanty.
"Hugh, where are you?" said Billy in a hoarse whisper. "Are you here? Can't you speak?"
Still no answer.
Then Alec's match went out.
"Have you another match?" asked Norton.
Like Billy's, his voice was husky. A vague dread seemed to seize him, weighing down upon him like a tangible thing.
"Yes," said Alec. "Here's one more—-the last."
Again he struck a light and a hasty search was made. Every moment was precious.
In vain. The cabin was empty.
At the beginning of the fight, Hugh wakened from a troubled sleep into which he had fallen, wearied with fruitless efforts to break the lock of the door. One thought was ever in his mind, even in his dream: to escape. For this purpose he had clawed away a wide chink in the log walls, he had even dug under the threshold—-without avail.
Nevertheless, he was glad to be active and thankful that he had been unbound before his captors went away, leaving him a prisoner in the shanty until they were ready to release him. Joe Durgan had even been considerate enough to leave a half loaf of bread and a glass of beer on the table; but Hugh declined these delicacies.
All during the fight he crouched by the locked door, listening in alternate hope and dread of the outcome, now and then raising his voice amid the din and confusion outside. It was perhaps not strange that none of his friends heard him, for his shouts only mingled with those of the smugglers and were lost in the general clamor.
But they were heard by one man, who, though not exactly a friend, was yet an amiable enemy.
In the midst of the conflict, when the Revenue Service men had arrived to turn the tide of fortune, the door was quickly opened and shut, and a man stood in the room, panting hard.
Hugh sprang to his feet, ready for any new emergency.
"What are you-all doin' thar, youngster?" said a voice in the darkness, a deep voice which Hugh recognized as Durgan's.
"Trying to get out, of course," he replied defiantly, every nerve in his young body tingling with excitement. "What did you expect me to do, Durgan?"
"Eh? Oh, nothin'. Thought you might ha' gone to sleep like a good little boy."
The man's harsh laugh sounded hollow and unpleasant. Hugh shuddered.
"I was asleep," he said, "but when——"
"Real unkind o' your friends to wake you up, eh?" interrupted Durgan. His hand stole behind him. With a quick turn he opened the door, and admitted some one. "Come in, Harry," he said. "The kid's here, all right. What did I tell you?"
"That so?" growled Harry Mole. "Well, we know who he is now. Somebody tipped off the officers about the run we was goin' to make to-night; and since it wasn't this kid, it must-a been one of his bunch. Shall we heave him into the stream, Joe, or leave him here?"
"Not on your life!" Durgan replied promptly. "He's caught on to too much about us while he's been here, and he can tell those ginks a lot that we don't want 'em to know. So's long as we kin get out o' here alive, we'd better take him along."
"He spoiled our plans to-night. He deserves to be knocked on the head an' thrown out to the 'gators!"
"Spoilt our plans, you bet! But he'll get his, by-and-by. Come, take him and hustle away. Cripes! hear them bullets smashin' into the wall!"
"Remember, kid," said Mole, "if you shout or let out a word, we'll stick a knife between yer slats."
From the fierce way in which Mole uttered this threat, Hugh did not doubt he would do as he said. However, he did not yield without a silent struggle, though he was soon overpowered by the two burly ruffians. Each taking him by an arm, they led him outside and dragged him over a stretch of bumpy ground, stumbling along in the semi-darkness.
Scarcely five minutes after they left the hut and the two burning shanties behind them, Hugh's friends burst into the empty cabin—-too late to rescue him.
But these young, well-trained scouts lost no time in searching the place. Separating into pairs—-Norton and Mark, Alec and Chester, with Billy and Dave in advance, following Durgan's and Mole's trail—-they formed a line of communication between the cabin and the site of the bonfire, hoping that by thus keeping a picket line they might catch sight of Hugh or his captors beating a hasty retreat toward the shore.
Meanwhile, Durgan and Mole with Hugh between them walked very fast indeed. Had they not supported Hugh, he should have fallen several times; for, young and strong as he was, he was almost worn out with the rough treatment he had undergone. Every minute he thought they would stop, and, making an end of their senseless threats, release him and run. But they evidently had no intention of doing so.
Hugh tried to ascertain in what direction they were leading him, but he soon gave this up as useless. He was on the verge of despair, when suddenly out of the gloom came a startlingly familiar call—-the call of the Wolf patrol.
"Wow-ow-ooo-oooo-hoo-Hugh!"
It sounded not far away, on his left, and the lad's heart bounded with joy. He knew that that call could come from none other than Billy Worth, and Billy must therefore be near at hand, ready to lead his comrades to Hugh's rescue.
For one wild moment he was tempted to answer the call—-then discretion prevailed, and he kept silence.
Naturally, the two men also were startled at the sound. Mole gave Hugh a prod in the shoulder with the point of a knife and Durgan swore volubly.
"None o' that thar, Harry!" he warned. "Don't hurt the kid. If you do, we'll——-"
"Aw, shut up!" retorted the other, and they hurried on.
By great effort Hugh said nothing, asked no questions, did not even answer the wolf-call. Instinct told him it would be better to do as his captors had ordered, and now he pretended to feel resigned to his fate—-knowing that help was forthcoming.
As they went on, sounds of a lively scuffle reached his ears, and he could also hear the dull booming of surf, by which he knew that he could be at no great distance from the shore. Behind him, evidently following, again sounded the wolf-call, giving him courage and renewed hope.
Durgan turned to him angrily.
"What made you jump when you heard that thar howl?" he demanded.
"Nothing. Where—-where are we going?" Hugh ventured to ask, at length, forgetting that he was not to utter a word of protest. "I'm dog-tired, and my knee aches—-a sprain, I guess."
"You lie!" retorted Mole fiercely, and he struck Hugh across the mouth.
"You'll soon have time enough to rest yourself, youngster," added Durgan in a kinder tone. "You're in luck that things ain't no worse for you."
But Hugh scarcely heard; at any rate, he paid no heed. Boiling with rage at the insult, he gave one shout: "Billy! This way, scouts!" and struggling desperately, he managed to slip from his captors' grasp.
In another minute he had whirled around and was running as fast as he could put foot to the ground.
To his surprise, Mole and Durgan did not chase him. When he paused for an instant to rub his bruised knee and to look around, he dimly saw them in the distance running to a spot where a crowd of men were pushing and struggling to get into a boat.
Presently he discerned a larger body of men hastening to the place, and in the dim light of the moon he saw that they were soldiers and seamen.
While he stood lost in wonderment, Uncertain where to go, he heard footsteps and familiar voices near. He gave the call of his old patrol, and Billy answered it immediately.
The next minute, Billy rushed into view, and the two chums were reunited in a vigorous bear-hug of sheer, silent rejoicing. They found words at last.
"Billy, old scout, I was beginning to think I might never see you again!"
"You were? Why, Hugh, I'd have looked for you from here to Yucatan and back again, twenty times over, by sea and land, before I'd give up!" cried Billy, forgetting in his enthusiasm how near he had come to the verge of despair.
"I'm dying to know whatever happened to you," he added. "But here come the rest of the bunch; so you'll have to tell all of us your story."
"It's soon told," said Hugh; and after joyful greetings had been exchanged, he told them all that had happened to him since his unlucky morning stroll to the hut on the far-away beach.
In their turn, they related the events of their search for him, and described the fight around the cabin in which he had so lately been a prisoner.
"And there's the end of the fight now," said Norton, pointing to the group of combatants and to a boat manned by five oarsmen who were putting out to sea. "Look! There they go!—-all of them who managed to escape No! By Jove, the boat's coming back to shore! I suppose Uncle Sam's men threatened to shoot the rascals if they didn't come back."
"Serves 'em right!" said Chester.
"Let's go over there and watch proceedings," urged Alec.
"I second the motion!" Hugh declared, eager to see the latest developments.
So without further discussion, they hurried over to the place, and were in time to witness the capture of Bego and his gang.
* * * * * * *
By morning, a sullen company of prisoners was put aboard thePetreland conveyed southward to Key West for trial.
The interval between their capture and the departure of the revenue cutter was spent in putting out the fire near Durgan's cove, all that remained of the three adjoining shanties being a heap of charred logs and wind-swept ashes. Durgan's motor boat was fastened by means of a long cable to the aft rail of theArrow, which was commissioned to tow it to a wharf at Charlotte Harbor, where it would be delivered to a brother of the smuggler. This brother, a thoroughly honest fisherman, was well known to Captain Vinton.
Bego's ship, theEsperanza, remained at anchor off the cove. Arrangements were made for its safe delivery at Charlotte Harbor, as soon as a suitable crew could be sent to convey it to that haven.
Hoping that his presence might not be required at the trial, though fully resigned to the probability of having to attend it, Hugh wrote out and signed a full statement of his experiences with the outlaws.
This paper was also signed by Norton, Captain Vinton, and Lieutenant Driscoll, as testifying their belief in its veracity. The captain of thePetrelundertook to deliver it to the proper authorities, and it was eventually accepted in lieu of Hugh's personal testimony.
Having attended to these matters, the crew of theArrowwent aboard about noon. The day was perfect for the return voyage, a fair breeze blew against her weather-stained sails, and the ocean was as blue as sapphire.
The entire party was glad to be on the sloop's clean decks once more; even Dave seemed happy and relieved when Durgan's Cove and its outlying shores faded into a velvety green blur along the horizon. So they left the scene of their adventures, and glided swiftly away "on the home stretch," as Chester called it, under cloudless skies.
It was not until the second day of the voyage back toward Santario that Hugh felt quite himself again. The nervous strain of his experiences as a captive would have been enough to exhaust him, and in addition he had suffered real buffeting and hardship at the hands of his captors.
Dave stretched a hammock for him on deck at the captain's orders, and there Hugh spent nearly the entire first day of the homeward trip.
The other boys and Norton diverted his few waking hours with stories and riddles and simple games, and Captain Vinton, himself, contributed more than one tale from his store of recollections.
"Tell you what, boys," the old captain said as he concluded one of his yarns, "we fellers these days meet with a few excitin' experiences now and then, but to get some idea of what lively times on the water may be, go back to John Paul Jones and his day, or even to the sea fights of '62."
"Have you read much of the history of those days, captain?" inquired Roy Norton interestedly, while the boys leaned forward to hear the reply.
"Son," said Captain Vinton in answer, turning to Alec Sands, his blue eyes alight with a keen expression, "Son, go to my cabin and bring me an old, worn book from the shelf there: 'Famous American Naval Commanders,' it is called."
Until Alec's return, the captain looked out over the water with far-seeing eyes, and the others, watching him, wondered what stirring scenes his imagination was picturing to him just then.
He glanced up as Alec handed him the volume of naval history and grasped it with the firm gentleness of a true book lover. He turned it over thoughtfully, straightened its sagging covers, opened and closed it several times, and finally spoke:
"Thar's the answer to yer question, Norton," he said. "And that's only one of about a dozen hist'ries I've got on my old shelf. When times is dull or I'm waitin' fer a party who've gone into the Everglades, or when theArrowis lyin' off shore in a dead calm, then I start in at the first page of the book that happens ter be on the end of the shelf, and I live over the old days of the privateers, when it meant somethin' to sail the seas."
"Who is yourbiggesthero?" asked Mark as the captain paused.
The old man smiled humorously before he answered.
"Wal', my biggest hero," he said, "is the littlest hero on record as a sea-fighter, I guess. Like Napoleon Bonaparte, his bigness was not in his body but in his mind. And that's Paul Jones of theBonhomme Richard."
As the captain pronounced the name of his hero, he struck his worn book a resounding slap, and his jaws clicked in emphasis of his statement.
"Can't you tell us something about him?" asked Chester, fascinated by the old captain's earnestness.
"That's the ticket—-I mean, please do," endorsed Billy heartily.
"No, I can't do that," was the deliberate reply, as the captain rose to relieve Dave at the tiller, "but you can all borry the book and read the historian's account of the battle between theSerapisand theBonhomme Richard. I git so excited when I read that, I hey ter go put my head in a pail o' water to cool it off! Fact! You know that's whar the cap'n of theSerapiscalls out: 'Hev ye struck?' And John Paul Jones shouts back: 'Struck! I am just beginnin' ter fight!'"
As Captain Vinton straightened his rounded shoulders and delivered this emphatic quotation, he shook his fist at an imaginary enemy and then brought it down hard on the railing. Then he grinned sheepishly.
"You see how 'tis," he said, laughing at himself as he moved away."Guess I'll hev ter stop talkin' or go fer that pail o' water!"
The boys, left to themselves, discussed the theme that the captain's words had suggested, and were rather ashamed to see how vague their knowledge of the famous battle was. So, at Alec's suggestion, Norton agreed to read the account of the fight as given in the captain's book; and grouped about Hugh's hammock, the boys listened eagerly.
"That makes our experiences on picket duty seem tame in comparison," said Alec, commenting on the story when Norton had closed the book.
"We were not all on the firing line," replied the young man, smiling."I'll venture to say that Hugh did not find his share at all tame."
Hugh smiled and nodded ruefully as his mind flew back to his dangerous situation as a captive of the desperate filibusters, and he felt that he could understand a little of what it meant to be in the thick of the fight.
"Me, too," exclaimed Billy, shuddering at a sudden recollection. "I haven't told you fellows that I came near having my ear shot off, that time the other night when I was separated from the rest of you for a while. Excuse me from anything nearer real battle fire than that!"
Just at that moment, a soft, regular thump-thump-thump from the deck behind Hugh's hammock made all the boys turn quickly.
There stood Dave, skillfully flinging gayly colored hoops over a post at some distance from him.
"Oh, ho! A game of ring-toss, is it?" cried Chester, rising eagerly."Say, boys, let's form rival teams and have a tournament."
"Good!" echoed Billy. "The Pickets versus the Pirates!"
"That sounds exciting!" called Hugh, sitting up in the hammock. "Count me in on that, boys. Guess I can get up long enough to take my turn now and then."
"Let Dave and Mr. Norton choose sides," suggested Alec, "Dave for the Pirates and Mr. Norton for the Pickets."
"Hurrah!" cried Mark. "On with the game!"
In less time than it takes to tell it, Dave, grinning broadly at his prominence, and Norton, entering into the contest with his usual spirit of enthusiasm, had chosen sides and a list was hastily written and posted on the cabin wall as follows:
Pirates vs Pickets
Dave Norton
Hugh Billy
Chester Alec
Mark Captain Vinton
"Oh, but I can't play!" protested the captain. "I've got my hands full with theArrow!"
"We'll take turns and spell you at the helm," returned Norton."All hands on board are enlisted in this fight."
Pleased at his insistence, the old captain yielded the wheel whenever it came his turn to toss, and he proved to be an adept at the game, to everybody's delight.
Norton and Dave had agreed that the contest should consist of five complete rounds, giving just twenty opportunities to each side. Only the total successful tosses would determine the winning score, but the best individual records would decide who should be the team captains in subsequent games.
The fun of the thing entered into every one of the contestants, yet not one of them failed to put his best efforts into the game.
"Now we'll see some accurate shooting," called Billy as Hugh took the rings for his fourth turn.
"No fair trying to rattle me," returned Hugh, laughing good-naturedly."I'm still the interesting invalid."
"Hush!" whispered the irrepressible Billy quite audibly. "Don't say a word, boys! It might shake his nerve, you know, and he might suffer a relapse!"
"You teaser!" commented Hugh, beginning his play.
One after another, Hugh steadily tossed the rings over the post.
"Pshaw! You can't disturb him," ejaculated Alec. "He is as calm as the sea is just now."
"Five!" counted Chester softly. "Six! You put every one over this time, Hugh. Billy's jollying just inspired you!"
"And now it is his turn," said Hugh, returning to his hammock. "Now we shall see something!"
Billy flushed a little, grinned, set his teeth, poised his body firmly, and then swung into the position of the famous "disk thrower."
Thump! The first ring struck the deck a good foot beyond the post, rebounded, and rolled rapidly toward the railing.
Roy Norton stopped it with his foot and called, "Steady, Billy!Take your time."
Thump! The second ring, tossed more cautiously, dropped at least six inches in front of the goal.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Three more landed in quick succession, draping themselves gracefully against the standard that upheld the post.
"One more, Billy. Make this one count," coached his captain urgently.
By this time, Billy's face was scarlet and his hand shaking. He took a long breath, fixed his eye on the top of the slender post, and tossed the ring desperately. It fell well to the right of the goal and rolled up against Dave's feet.
Dave quickly stooped to pick it up, trying to hide the wide smile that parted his lips.
Billy's scout friends made no attempt to be so polite. Pickets andPirates alike, they burst into a roar of laughter.
Captain Vinton, his weather-beaten face wrinkled into a dozen humorous lines, called out:
"Billy, words is sometimes like a boomerang—-they fly back and ketch ye, ef ye don't watch out!"
And so the contest progressed; now luck favored the Pirates, and againCaptain Vinton's skill brought up the uncertain score of the Pickets.
At the end of the final round, however, Dave's team had a clean balance of ten counts over the combined records of the Pickets, the winners showing a total of ninety-five successful throws out of a possible one hundred and twenty.
Captain Vinton had the best individual score, securing twenty-six out of a possible thirty points, while Hugh, thanks perhaps to Billy's inspiring comments, stood next with a record of twenty-four.
The sun was setting redly over an almost calm sea as the games were finished. Dave, beaming at the success of his team, vanished without urging and soon the welcome odors of supper cooking were wafted to the eager nostrils of the hungry boys.
That evening they all gathered around the old captain as he sat at the helm and guided the lazily-moving craft, begging him for another tale from his own reminiscences or from his favorite history.
"Wal', boys," agreed the captain at length, "I'll tell you about one sea fight that I almost witnessed myself. Fact is, I was a little too young to be thar, but my father was mighty nigh bein' in the thick of it, and I've heard him tell the tale a hundred times ef I hev once.
"It was in March, '62," the captain resumed after a little pause. "The North was consid'rably stirred up over rumors of how the Confederates hed raised theMerrimacand made out of her a terrible ironclad vessel, warranted to resist all ord'nary attacks. Then these rumors were followed by news of the destruction of two sailin' frigates, theCumberlandand theCongress.
"The Union forces were pretty uneasy when they heard what hed happened off Hampton Roads, but they were all pinnin' their faith to a little new ironclad just built on Long Island and already speedin' south ter meet theMerrimac. My old dad, servin' on theRoanoke, was lucky enough to see both them craft:—-the big, clumsyMerrimac, all covered with railroad iron and smeared with grease, and the nifty littleMonitor, that they said looked like 'a cheese box on a raft'!
"Wal', 'course you boys hev all read about what happened when the little fellow steamed out ter meet the big fellow, the day after the frigates were destroyed.
"Fer four hours, Dad said, the two ironclads jest pestered each other with hot fire, but the shot and shell slid off them like water from a duck's back. The littleMonitordarted around the bigMerrimaclike a bee buzzin' round a boy that had plagued it.
"Thar wa'n't no great harm done—-except that Lieutenant Worden, who was in command of the Monitor, got hurt by the bits of a shell that drove into his face—-but the little ironclad hed proved two things. Fust, that she could hold her own; and next that the day of wooden vessels in naval warfare was over.
"As you boys know, warships now-a-days are all ironclad. Folks hey called 'em 'indestructible,' but I guess thar ain't no sech word allowable any more. Between the new explosives and the airships—-wal', they say we ain't heard the last word yet, by a long shot!"
The old captain rose as he spoke, shaking his head thoughtfully and gazing out over the sea and into the sky.
"Wal', boys, off to yer bunks now! We'll hev a fairly calm night, but thar'll be wet decks to-morrow!"
The captain's prophecy was literally fulfilled, and the boys had no opportunity for fairweather games the next day. Instead, clad in oilskins, they lounged about the wet decks, watching the captain's skillful handling of the boat, ringing the big fog bell when the atmosphere grew thick, and clinging to the railing when the sloop pitched and tossed restlessly on the heaving sea.
Dave retired as usual in rough weather into sullen silence, coming on deck most reluctantly only when his services were demanded by the captain.
Late in the day, the storm increased to a gale of some little violence, and the captain decided to make for the nearest harbor. He had hoped to reach the home haven that night, but his policy was to meet disappointment rather than to run risks.
"Mebbe I hev a surprise up my sleeve fer you boys," Captain Lem said, his eyes twinkling as he saw their long faces on hearing the news of delay. "Wouldn't mind addin' a little excitement ter the end of the trip, would ye?"
"We're aching for it," returned Billy promptly. "This has been an awfully long day, you know, captain."
"Wal', ef I've got my bearin's all right, we'll spend the evenin' in a right cheerful place. That's all I kin say now, but you boys go collect your belongin's, so's we kin land fer the night ef my calc'lations hold good."
Just as the early darkness of the rainy night shut down over the rolling sea, the boys discovered a gleaming light, high and steady, not far off toward the Florida coast.
"Jimmy!" cried Billy excitedly. "Bet the captain is going to take us to a lighthouse for the night!"
"Can't be your uncle's light, Mark, where we saw the spongers on the way down," commented Chester thoughtfully. "We're too near home for that."
"I have anidea—-" began Hugh slowly.
"And so have I!" interrupted Alec, glancing at Mark.
At that moment, Roy Norton began to ring the fog bell under the captain's directions.
"Ding! Ding! Ding, ding, ding!" resounded the heavy iron tongue.
There was a pause, and then the signal was repeated. A longer silence followed and again the slow, clear signal was twice repeated.
By this time, the captain had guided his dauntless little vessel into slightly quieter waters, although she still pitched and tossed in a way that would have alarmed a "landlubber."
Then came a new sound, louder than the noise of the pounding waves, deeper than the clang of the iron bell.
"Boom! Boom! Boom, boom, boom!" An answering signal had broken the silence where the steady light shone.
Mark started, as though recognizing the sound.
"Why, that——-" he began bewilderedly, "that is the signal gun atRed Key! Captain, are you signaling to my father?"
"Jest so," Captain Vinton replied. "Keeper Anderson knows my knock on his door!"
"How shall we land?" asked Chester excitedly, as he saw Dave making ready to drop anchor.
At that moment a rocket went streaking up toward heaven and a second later a slender rope fell writhing across the deck, where Roy stood swinging a torch.
"Hurray!" called Hugh, seizing the rope just as Norton, at the captain's orders, also grasped it. "Hurray! It's the breeches buoy!"
It will be recalled by those who followed the adventures of "The Boy Scouts of the Life Saving Crew," that Hugh and Billy, Chester and Alec had been at the Red Key Station on the night of a thrilling rescue. They had accompanied and in a slight way assisted the life-savers on their patrols, at the launching of the life boat, and in the final use of the breeches buoy.
It was most exciting to return to the scene of their memorable experience in this unexpected fashion.
The boys hauled willingly on the rope and soon it was taut, the odd conveyance swinging by the deck railing.
"You go first, Mark. While yer father knows my knock and realizes that I didn't give my danger signal, still he may be a mite anxious to see you, knowin' you was comin' home with me on theArrow."
Obeying the captain's directions and grasping his waterproof bundle of clothes, Mark thrust his legs into the breeches buoy, the signal was given, and the trip through the waves began.
Soon the strange vehicle was back again, and this time Chester, buttoning his oilskins about him closely, was ordered ashore.
In a brief time Hugh, and then Billy, Alec, and Norton had followed the others.
Meanwhile, Captain Vinton, with Dave's help, had made everything shipshape on board theArrow. Then, sending Dave shoreward in the breeches buoy, the captain himself, true to tradition, waited to be the last to leave his ship.
Although they had not encountered a moment of real danger, the boys had been given an experience of actual rescue. When Captain Vinton joined them on shore, they greeted him enthusiastically and then stood back to watch his meeting with Keeper Anderson.
The latter grasped the captain's hand in a hearty grip.
"Good for you, Lem, you old sea-dog!" cried the keeper. "You didn't scare us any and it was great fun for my boy and his friends. Mark has gone in to see his mother—-she'll be some surprised—-and to tell her to fix up some hot coffee and things for you 'survivors.'"
"Haw! haw! haw!" laughed the old captain. "This was the easiest shipwreck I ever managed to survive! He! he! he!"
In great good nature the two men walked toward the keeper's house, while the boys followed, eagerly renewing their acquaintance with the stalwart men of the life-saving crew.
Roy Norton was an interested observer, and when he, too, had met Mrs. Anderson and Ruth, and heard the story of their first exciting encounter, he no longer wondered at the boys' enthusiasm.
That night the crowd slept, as four of them had before, in hastily arranged shakedowns; and when morning dawned, they looked out upon a sea so blue and sparkling they could scarcely realize that it was the gray, angry, heaving expanse of the night before.
TheArrowdipped and rose jauntily on the sapphire water, giving no sign that she, too, had spent a restless night pulling and tugging at her deeply embedded anchor.
After an early breakfast, the four boys said their farewells to Mark and Ruth and their parents, and, with the captain and Norton, went out to theArrowin boats manned by members of the life-saving crew.
Not many hours later, they reached Alec's home in Santario, and there they found Mr. Sands, waiting a little anxiously for their safe return. He had learned from the morning papers that the previous night's storm had been severe at sea, and he had not known how or where theArrowmight have weathered the gale.
When he had been told of the "rescue" off Red Key Life Saving Station, he exclaimed impatiently, "Why in the name of sense, didn't you telephone me from Red Key? Here I have spent many hours in needless anxiety."
The boys looked at one another in silence.
"It simply never occurred to us that we were back within communicating distance," replied Alec at last. "We haven't seen or heard a telephone since we left home."
"And really, Mr. Sands," said Roy Norton quickly, "when you hear what strange, unusual experiences the boys have had, you will not wonder at their forgetting the convenience of a little, every-day matter like the telephone. For myself, I offer no excuse. I should have been more thoughtful. But I, too, have dropped the customs and responsibilities of home life about as thoroughly as have the boys, I am afraid."
"That is all right, Norton," said Mr. Sands. "I spoke hastily, for my nerves were a little frazzled.
"Now, boys, make yourselves comfortable and clean, and then come out on the veranda and tell me the tale of the exciting trip."
It was an eager quartette of boys who responded to this invitation; and when they finally started to relate their experiences, Mr. Sands found it necessary to hear them in turn in order to get any clear idea of connecting events.
At length, however, he had followed them on their trip south, in imagination; had seen the panting tarpon on the deck of theArrow; had taken the winding waterways into the Everglades; had encountered the revenue cutter and the filibuster; had watched through a night of adventure with the scouts on picket duty; and had finally swung safely through the dashing waves to the Life Saving Station.
"Well, boys, I little thought when I put you aboard Captain Lem's sloop for a little cruise south that you would see so much variety and excitement. But if you are not sorry, I am not. You are all home again, safe and sound, and none the worse for your experiences. Take it easy, now, for the rest of your stay here and have the best time you can."
This advice the boys were not at all reluctant to follow. For a day or two they lounged about the broad piazzas in hammocks and easy chairs, reading books from Mr. Sands' well stocked library or from Alec's own bookshelf.
On the second evening of this quiet home life, however, Billy's uneasy spirit led him to say:
"Fellow scouts, I move you, sirs, that we take to the road. My hiking muscles are aching for use. We have sailed and paddled and motored. Now I propose, sirs, that we tramp."
"Second the motion!" echoed Chester.
"What do you think of the idea, Alec?" asked Hugh, turning to their young host. "Will your father think we are ungrateful guests if we go off for a day or two so soon after the cruise?"
"We'll plan a trip," replied Alec readily, "and submit the scheme to him to-night. If he has no objections, we will telephone Mark and ask him to join us, and perhaps Norton can go along, too."
Alec's suggestion was carried out, and Mr. Sands not only approved the plan but added interest to it by producing some excellent road maps and proposing a tour of adventure.
"Suppose," said he, "instead of traveling as one company, you divide your forces, three of you taking one route and three another to your night's camping place. Here is a good spot to camp," indicating it on the map, "and I will send the machine there with the essential supplies so that you can 'hike' without being heavily burdened. How does that strike you?"