The captain whistled as he looked up into the sky as if he was searching the clouds for an answer. “I know him when I see him,” he said at last. A moment later he added, “I guess I see him now.”
Startled by his words the boys looked quickly in the direction indicated, and across the field saw two men approaching the shore. One plainly was the man whom they had seen on Cockburn Island and his companion was the one who had approached from the woods and at his unexpected and startling hail the boys had fled up the shore.
“What do you suppose they want?” said George in a low voice to Grant.
“I haven’t the remotest idea. If we stay here a little while we may know more about it.”
Not a word was spoken while the boys and the captain waited for the two men to approach. It was plain that they were walking toward the place where the motor-boat was anchored, although what their errand was neither of the boys understood.
At the same time George felt of the letter in his pocket. The strange epistle had not only puzzled the boys but somehow they were unable to free themselves from the thought that it was directly connected in some way with the approaching man.
At that moment George pulled the sleeve of his friend and excitedly pointed toward the lake. Not far from the shore a swift little motor-boat was passing and when George whispered, “That’s the little Jap at the wheel, I’m sure it is,” the excitement of both boys became more intense.
Abruptly the two men who had been approaching when they discovered that the boys were not alone, turned and walked along the shore in the direction in which the motor-boat, driven by the Japanese, was moving.
“There!” exclaimed Grant “We had our run for nothing. Those men didn’t want us.”
“I’m glad you are so well informed,” said George, still watching the departing men as long as they could be seen.
“Well, boys,” said their captain, “it’s about time for us to start on. If we are going to find your friends we have got to get busy or we shan’t get back to Mackinac Island to-night.”
His words at once were heeded and the search for the missing boys was quickly renewed.
George and Grant walked along the shore maintaining a careful outlook for their friends, or for any signs that would indicate that they had been there not long before. Occasionally the boys advanced into the island, but in every case they returned without having discovered any traces of their missing companions. In this way much of the afternoon passed and the sun was sinking lower in the western sky when the captain said, “There isn’t much use in trying any longer, boys. We must be starting back.”
Both George and Grant were depressed now for they had been working busily throughout most of the day and all their efforts had been unavailing. The missing boys had not been found nor had anything been discovered to indicate that their friends had even landed on Western Duck Island.
“They will be all right,” said the captain, striving to cheer up his downhearted young companions. “They’ll take care of themselves. There hasn’t been any storm and two boys in such weather can’t get into trouble on Lake Huron unless they try to and you say they aren’t that kind.”
“No,” said George quickly. “They wouldn’t be looking for trouble, but trouble may have been looking for them.”
“I guess not,” laughed the captain. “Most likely when we get back to Mackinac you’ll find they are already there or else have chartered another motor-boat to go out and look for you.”
As the boys were about to take their places on board the little craft they were surprised when they heard a hail from some one who was approaching from the woods.
In a brief time it was manifest that the man whom they had seen on Cockburn Island was the one who was now before them and that he was earnest in his request for them not to depart before he joined them.
“Are you going to leave now?” inquired the man when at last he stood beside the boys who were ready to embark on the little skiff and row out to the motor-boat.
“Yes, sir,” said Grant quickly.
“I am wondering if you’ll be willing to take me on board.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m willing.”
“I guess the captain wouldn’t object if I agreed to pay him. How about it?” added the new passenger, turning to the captain as he spoke.
“The boys have chartered the boat,” said the captain, “and I haven’t anything to say about it. They’ll have to decide.”
“Do you want to go to Mackinac?” inquired Grant.
“No,” replied the man. “I want to stop at Cockburn Island.”
“That’s out of our course,” said the captain quickly. “We shall cut right across to Mackinac. In weather like this we’re as safe as we would be on a mill-pond.”
“I’ll pay you well for my passage.”
“How much longer will it take?” inquired George turning to the captain as he spoke.
“We shan’t get back to Mackinac before eleven o’clock if you go by Cockburn Island.”
“It’s very important,” broke in the man. “I ought to be there now. I’ll pay you ten dollars if you’ll take me.”
“All right,” said George, after he glanced questioningly at his companion.
Without delaying, the man at once stepped on board the skiff and in a few minutes all three were on board of the motor-boat.
There was no delay now and the swift little boat was soon leaving Western Duck Island behind it.
Somehow the mystery in which the boys had found themselves involved during the past few days instead of becoming clearer was darker than before. Who was their passenger? Why was he so desirous of being carried to Cockburn Island? These questions and many others were discussed in low tones by George and Grant while their passenger remained seated in the bow of the swiftly moving little motor-boat.
“Speaking of calm,” said the captain breaking in upon the prolonged silence on board, “I knew a man once that was held up three days on one of these islands by a storm. ’Twas a regular no’-easter and blew a gale without stopping. This man I’m telling you about managed to get ashore on one of the islands and couldn’t leave until the storm passed and he was picked up by some boat. So you see you needn’t get so down-hearted about your friends. Something may have happened to their boat or they may have landed somewhere and maybe they didn’t pull their skiff far enough up on the shore. There’s a hundred things I can think of to comfort your hearts.”
“That’s good of you,” said Grant “I wish I felt about it the way you do.”
It was dusk when at last the motor-boat drew near the familiar shores of Cockburn Island.
“Some boat’s ahead of you,” called the captain. “See, there’s a motor-boat already there at that little landing.”
The attention not only of the boys but of their other passenger was at once called to the boat in the distance. And it was apparent too that the man was greatly excited by the discovery.
As the boys came nearer they both were convinced that they had never seen the boat before. They were able to see that it had been long since it had been painted and its general air of dilapidation was so manifest that under other circumstances the boys would have laughed at its appearance.
Occasionally they glanced at the man on board whose surprise and excitement or alarm at the discovery of the presence of the other motor-boat had now become more marked.
“Look yonder!” said Grant at last when they were within a few yards of the landing place. “There’s somebody coming from the house.”
Both boys were silent for a brief time as they watched the approaching men. One of them was tall and ungainly and had a strange swinging motion as he walked across the fields. Beside him were two boys.
George suddenly grasped his friend by the arm and in a low voice said, “Do you know who those fellows are?”
“They look like Fred and John,” replied Grant in a whisper. “Where do you suppose they came from?”
“I don’t care where they came from, the most I want to know is that they are here. You don’t suppose they are ghosts, do you?”
“I think you would find out whether they were ghosts or not if you tried to throw Fred. Come on, let’s go ahead and meet them.”
Advancing quickly the boys soon drew near the place where the approaching forms were seen.
“Fred, is that you?” called George anxiously.
Instantly the trio stopped and in amazement stared in the direction from which the unexpected hail had come.
“Is that you, Fred? Is that you, Jack?” George called again, this time speaking a little more loudly.
“Yes,” replied John. “Who is it calling us?”
“You have been gone so long you don’t recognize your own friend,” called back George. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s the same question we might ask you,” retorted Fred. “We didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Neither did we expect to find you,” said George. “We’re mighty glad we have though, for we have been looking for you a long time.”
“The trouble is you didn’t look in the right place,” laughed Fred, who was delighted to be with his friends once more.
“You don’t need to tell us that,” retorted Grant. “We have had troubles enough of our own without having you twit us about them. We looked all around Western Duck Island and up and down the shore but couldn’t find any trace of you. Now tell us where you have been and what you have been doing.”
All six were now returning to the shore together, the strange companion of Fred and John walking in advance of the boys. Several times George nudged Fred as he pointed toward the ungainly figure which was somewhat dim in the obscure light. The peculiar gait, the strange swinging motion of the shoulders were not to be forgotten when once they had been seen. Rufus, however, had not spoken since the meeting of the boys and because of that fact there were still further revelations to be made that were to startle the newcomers.
“How did you get here, Fred?” demanded George unable longer to restrain his curiosity when the boys were within a few yards of the shore.
“We came in a motor-boat.”
“From where?”
“Sault St. Marie.”
“Be honest, Fred. This is no time for joking. Where did you come from?”
“I’m not joking and I’m telling you the truth. We started from Sault St. Marie.”
“How long have you been here?”
“About two hours.”
“Why did you come to Cockburn Island?”
“Because our skipper said he had to come here before he could take us to Mackinac.”
“What did he want to come here for?”
“Don’t talk any more now,” said Fred. “Wait until we get back and we’ll tell you all about it and there are some things worth hearing, too.”
When the boys and the strange skipper returned to the shore and it was discovered that there were two motor-boats there, John quickly said to Rufus, “Our friends are going back to Mackinac and we can go with them so you won’t have to go out of your course. You can go right back to Sault St. Marie.”
“How about them ten dollars?” demanded Rufus, speaking in his shrillest tones. “I don’t intend to let go of you until I see the color of them dollars.”
“Have you got any money with you?” demanded Fred, turning quickly to George and Grant.
“How much do you want?” inquired George.
“Ten dollars. That’s what we agreed to pay our skipper.”
“I guess we can make that up between us,” said Grant, and in a brief time the money was produced and the brilliant-hued Rufus was paid. With evident satisfaction, he said, “I don’t know, boys, but I shall stay over here to Cockburn Island for three or four days. If you show up again in these parts you might let me know and maybe I can do somethin’ more for you.”
“Thank you,” laughed Fred. “You certainly have helped us out of our troubles.”
“Did he help you out of your clothes, too?” demanded Grant, who now had become aware for the first time of the strange garb in which both his friends were clad.
“No, we picked them up on the lake-boat.”
“On the what?”
“On the steamer. We weren’t proud. We didn’t want the crew to think that we felt above them so we put on the suits that they provided us with.”
“They certainly picked out choice ones,” laughed George, as he grasped the sleeve of Fred’s coat. “When are you going to start for Mackinac?”
“What’s become of our friend whose house is on the island here?” inquired Grant in a low voice.
So interested had they all been in the recent experiences that the passenger they had brought with them had been forgotten.
When the boys looked quickly about them they were aware that the man had disappeared. However, as he had landed and their duty was done they were all ready now for the return to Mackinac Island, where they could not expect to arrive before two or three o’clock the following morning.
The ungainly Rufus was again thanked for his aid and then the four boys speedily took their places on board the little motor-boat in which the searching party had set forth early that morning.
After the boat had left the shores of Cockburn Island behind them, so eager were George and Grant to learn what had befallen their friends that they insisted that the entire story should be told them.
And what a strange story it was. Fred or John, alternately breaking in upon each other, each insisting upon describing the perilous adventures through which they had passed, finally related the story of their rescue and the strange manner in which they had been taken to Sault St. Marie. Stranger still was the story they had to tell of their return and the reason why they had been found on Cockburn Island.
“But that isn’t the strangest part of all,” explained Fred when the first of their story had been told. “We have something else worth telling and when you hear it you’ll both sit up and listen to it.”
“What is it?” inquired George.
“This man Rufus who took us in his motor-boat over to Cockburn Island is a queer Dick.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” laughed George.
“His clothes and his voice, to say nothing of his hair and his long legs, are a small part when you stop to think of some other things,” said John.
“What other things?”
“Now listen and we’ll tell you. We’ve about decided that the man who stays on Cockburn Island is a regular smuggler. You know those letters we found, or rather the letter that came to me and the one we picked up on the shore of Western Duck Island, don’t you?”
“Yes,” replied George and Grant together.
“Well, I suspect,” resumed Fred, “that this man Rufus wrote them both.”
“He’s almost as good a letter writer as he is a dresser, isn’t he?” laughed Grant.
“You just wait until I’m done,” retorted Fred. “That’s always the trouble in this party. Whenever I start in to give you information and try to teach you some things you need to know and don’t know, there’s always somebody that has to spoil it all.”
“We’re not spoiling it,” laughed George. “Go ahead with your story. What makes you think he wrote those letters?”
“Be quiet, me child,” said Fred, “and I will enlighten thee. We suspect Rufus wrote them because he talked almost all the way from Sault St. Marie to Cockburn Island. Even when we stopped on the shore of Mud Lake and he cooked our dinner for us he kept on talking just the same whether we were there or not.”
“That’s just the trouble with you, Fred,” retorted George. “You say he kept on talking whether you were there or not. Now how do you know he kept on talking when you weren’t there? You see that’s the reason we have to put in intelligent questions sometimes. You are just as likely to talk about things you don’t know as you are about things that you do.”
“Never mind,” retorted Fred. “This man in the course of his extended remarks dropped a few words that made us think he knew more than at first we thought he did. We suspect that he runs a motor-boat for this man over on Cockburn Island.”
“Is that the reason why he took you there?” inquired George.
“Probably,” answered Fred. “At any rate he told us that he had to go that way and that he had to be there this afternoon. I tell you, fellows, that man is doing something he doesn’t want Uncle Sam to find out and my own impression is that he’s a smuggler and carrying on a regular trade at it.”
“What do you think he smuggles?” inquired George.
“I’m not just sure yet about that, but I’m pretty sure that I know where he hides the stuff before he takes it over to Mackinac or up to Sault St. Marie. In fact I think he has two places, one on Cockburn Island and the other down on Western Duck Island and I think, too, that he has a man or two on each island. Rufus runs a boat between Cockburn Island and Sault St. Marie and we suspect that he has another man down on Western Duck who gets rid of things there for him. And the strangest part of all is where he hides the stuff on Cockburn Island.”
“Where is that?” demanded George and Grant, who now were greatly interested in the story of their friends.
“I think he hides it in the barn.”
“Do you mean that old barn right behind his shanty?” inquired Grant.
“That’s the very place.”
“What makes you think he hides the stuff there?”
“From what Rufus said. You see, Rufus isn’t more than half or three quarters witted, and he feels that he hasn’t been treated by this man as he ought to have been. So he wrote those letters to get even, as he said, with the smuggler, and then as nothing was done about them he felt just as much provoked at Mr. Button as he had at the smuggler himself. So he has been first on one side and then on the other.”
“Whose side is he on now?” asked Grant.
“Just at the present time he’s on the smuggler’s side. But he was so anxious to talk all the while that we think he let out more than he knew. Among other things he told us why the smuggler keeps that big dog that we saw the other night. It seems there are three of those dogs and at night two of them guard the barn and the other is taken inside the house to protect that place. When we asked Rufus why they had to have two dogs around the barn he said that if we knew what was in the barn we wouldn’t ask any such foolish questions as that. Putting that together with some other things he said, I haven’t any doubt that whatever it is that Mr. Halsey deals in it is something that is very valuable and isn’t very large and can be easily carried.”
“What do you suppose it is?” inquired Grant. “That sounds like money.”
“Men don’t smuggle money,” sniffed Fred scornfully. “When we get back to Mackinac I’m going to tell Mr. Button, if he’s there, all about it and ask him what he thinks. And if he goes over to Cockburn Island and makes a search I want to go with him.”
“But he can’t make a search on Cockburn Island,” said George positively. “That’s in Canada. An American officer can’t go over there and make searches.”
“Not unless he gets a Canadian officer to go with him,” retorted Fred. “At all events when we get back to Mackinac we’ll find out what can be done and then we’ll just go ahead.”
It was late when the party at last arrived at Mackinac Island.
“It’s twenty-five minutes past two,” said Grant sleepily as he looked at his watch after the party had landed at the dock.
“We’ve had so much excitement and so many things to do in the last two or three days that I think I shall sleep right through the bed,” said John.
The weary boys almost threatened to fulfill the prophecy of John. In spite of the excitement through which they had passed they were speedily asleep and it was late the following morning before any one arose.
“What’s up to-day?” called Fred as he opened the door between the rooms which the four boys occupied.
“Not very much,” responded George, who was already dressed and had been down in the office of the hotel. “I have learned one thing though.”
“Good for you,” laughed Grant. “You couldn’t learn many less, that’s one thing sure.”
“I have learned that Mr. Button has gone,” declared George, ignoring the bantering of his companion.
“Gone?” demanded Grant. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I say.”
“Do you mean he has left Mackinac Island for good and all?”
“I didn’t say that. I simply said he had gone. He is expected back here at night.”
“That’s all right,” called John, who now entered the room and joined in the conversation. “I’m glad he isn’t here. It will give us a chance to rest up. It’s ten o’clock in the morning now, but I feel as if I was almost ready to crawl back into bed again.”
“We’ll feel all right by night,” said Fred lightly. “I suggest that we sit around the hotel and not try to do anything very strenuous to-day.”
The suggestion was followed by all four boys and save for a walk about the Island they passed the hours reading or writing letters.
Darkness had fallen before Mr. Button was seen by any of the four boys. Approaching him, Fred said, “We have got another letter for you, Mr. Button. It will match the one that came to me that was intended for you.”
Mr. Button glanced keenly at the boy as he spoke and said, “Is the letter intended for me?”
“I think so,” said Fred.
“Where did you get it? Did it come to you through the mail as the other one did?”
“No, sir, we picked it up on the shore of Western Duck Island.”
“You did!” exclaimed Mr. Button more strongly moved by the statement than the boys ever had seen him before. “Where is it?”
“It’s in my pocket,” replied Fred. “We wish you would come up to our room, Mr. Button. We’ll give you the letter and tell you some other things we have found out besides.”
Accepting the invitation Mr. Button accompanied the boys to the room which Fred and John occupied and after he had seated himself in the chair which was offered him by John, Fred at once began his story.
“We found this letter, Mr. Button, as I told you. It must have dropped out of the pocket of that man on the island or else Mr. Halsey lost it. At any rate we thought it belonged either to me or to you and I guess there’s no question now that it is yours.”
Fred handed the letter to their visitor, who at once read it through and laughing lightly thrust it into his pocket. “It matches the other one,” he said, “and sounds very much as if they both were written by the same man.”
“We have found the man that wrote them.”
“Have you?” inquired Mr. Button quietly.
“Yes, sir. When John and I were taken by that boat which rescued us we couldn’t land until we came to Sault St. Marie. It was almost morning and we had a great time, as our clothes were wet and we left them on the boat after we had put on some duds the sailors gave us. We found we didn’t have any money when we went up town and tried to get some breakfast, and when we went back to the dock we were horrified to find that the boat had gone on without us. Her next stop probably is Duluth.”
“And she took your clothes with her?” inquired Mr. Button, smiling as he spoke.
“She did that,” declared Fred ruefully, “and that wasn’t all of it either, for in our pockets were all the valuable things we possessed, though I guess money wasn’t among them. By and by we found a strange man there who agreed to bring us back to Mackinac in his motor-boat if we would go with him around by Cockburn Island.”
“Was he a red-haired man with big splotches of red on his face? Was he tall and ungainly and did he have a voice that no one could ever forget if he once heard it?”
“That’s the very man. He talked almost all the way to Cockburn Island. He can do one thing well though, let me tell you.”
“What is that?”
“He knows how to cook salt pork and potatoes.”
“I fancy,” said Mr. Button, “that the air and the appetites of you boys helped you to appreciate the quality of Rufus’s cooking.”
“Maybe it did, but the strange part of it all was after we stopped at Cockburn Island.”
“What happened then?”
“Why, he wanted us to stay on board the boat while he went up to that old house. He didn’t find what he wanted and when he came back he said we would have to wait there for a while. It was almost dark then. It seems he thinks he hasn’t been treated just right by this man Halsey, who is probably the smuggler you want to get.”
Mr. Button smiled, but did not interrupt the story which Fred was telling.
“While we were waiting, Rufus got to talking about his experiences and he made us think that he was the one that wrote both those letters. He wanted to get even with the man who didn’t give him his share, as he believed.”
“Is that all he told you?” inquired Mr. Button.
“No, there’s another thing he spoke about and that is the barn.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Button quickly. “What did he say about the barn?”
“It wasn’t so much what he said as what he made us believe. He told about two Great Danes they have to guard the barn and another one which they have to protect the house. He said if anybody tried to get into the barn they would have their troubles.”
“What did you say then?”
“Why, we asked him what any one would want to go into that old tumbled down barn for and he looked at us in a way that made us sure there was something there worth while. Do you suppose that Mr. Halsey hides in the barn the stuff which he smuggles into the United States?”
“I’m not sure—yet.”
“Are you going to find out?”
“That’s one of the things that brought me to Mackinac Island.”
“But the boys say,” suggested Fred, “that you haven’t any right to search his property over there. He’s in Canada and you belong to the United States.”
“I surely do,” responded Mr. Button smilingly, “but it is possible that I may try to make a few investigations, not as an officer, but simply to satisfy my personal curiosity.”
“What are you going to do?” inquired Fred impulsively.
Mr. Button laughed again and after a brief silence said, “Why not? Perhaps I can make use of your help. I don’t mind telling you, now that you know so much, that I expect to go over to Cockburn Island to-morrow. Furthermore I expect to make some investigations there. It may be that I might take two of you boys with me, though they used to tell me when I was a youngster that one boy is a boy and two boys is a half a boy.”
“Which two will you take?” demanded Fred excitedly.
“I have no preference. In fact I may be wrong in allowing any of you to go. If either of those huge dogs should attack you there would surely be trouble. Besides, the little Japanese cannot be ignored. And then too, the smuggler himself, if he is caught on the ground, or finds we are making our own investigations, may make more trouble than all the rest put together.”
“What’s the reason,” spoke up George excitedly, “that Grant and I can’t take another motor-boat and go over there near the channel and spend the day fishing? You see we would be within easy calling if you need us and the fact that we were there might help to explain why Fred and John were on the island.”
“There wouldn’t be very much for you to do,” suggested Mr. Button.
“It will be enough for us if we can just go ahead,” said Grant.
So eager were the boys and so intense was their desire to join in the expedition of the morrow that at last Mr. Button somewhat reluctantly gave his consent, explaining that if there should be any real danger he would insist upon the boys at once withdrawing in their motor-boats across the American border.
“We must start to-morrow morning,” explained Mr. Button, “by four o’clock at the latest.”
“We’ll be ready,” declared Fred confidently.
“Then, all of you boys better turn in now,” said Mr. Button as he arose and departed from the room.
True to their promise all four boys were on the dock before four o’clock the following morning.
“I think we are going to have a good day,” said Mr. Button to Fred and John as soon as their motor-boat was free.
“It looks so,” said John as he glanced toward the eastern sky.
“I don’t mean the weather alone,” explained Mr. Button, “but I feel quite sure that Halsey will not be on Cockburn Island to-day.”
“How do you know? What makes you think so?” demanded Fred quickly.
Mr. Button smiled, but did not explain his reasons for the opinion which he held. Indeed, conversation lagged and every one in the motor-boat apparently was busy with his own thoughts.
The boat which George and Grant had secured manifestly was much slower, for it soon was left behind and had not been seen again when about ten o’clock in the morning the party drew near the shores of Cockburn Island.
“The first thing,” explained Mr. Button, “I want you to do is to stay on board this motor-boat while I go up to the house.”
“But you may need us,” suggested John.
“If I do I shall let you know,” laughed Mr. Button.
As soon as the boat came to anchor, taking the little skiff which the motor-boat had in tow, Mr. Button alone rowed quickly to the shore and soon was on his way toward the little house in the distance.
The feeling of keen excitement, soon after the departure of Mr. Button returned in full force to the waiting boys. And what a sharp contrast it presented to the scene all about them! The waters of the lake were so smooth that an occasional gentle breeze ruffled the surface only in spots. There was scarcely a cloud to be seen in the summer sky. The shadows of the rocks and trees along the shore were so clearly reflected in the lake that the boys were reminded of the clearness of the water along the shores of Mackinac Island. Far away the motor-boat in which George and Grant were approaching now could be seen. Whenever the two boys looked toward the house in the distance they were again impressed by the almost unnatural quietness of the summer day. Not a person was to be seen near the building and the silence was broken only by the noisy flying grasshoppers near the shore.
“Suppose this is all a false alarm,” suggested John at last breaking in upon the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“Why, I mean suppose that there’s nothing in this. Suppose the whole thing is a wild goose chase.”
“Do you mean that Mr. Button may not be what he says he is?”
“Oh, I don’t know that I mean that,” rejoined John, “but somehow it seems so unreal. It doesn’t seem possible that men really should be trying to break the laws and smuggle goods across the border here when everything is so quiet and peaceful on every side.”
“Look yonder!” suddenly exclaimed Fred, pointing as he spoke to a man who could be seen walking rapidly toward the shore. He was coming from the house and it was quickly manifest that it was Mr. Button himself who was returning. He was alone and as the boys watched his rapid approach their feeling of excitement quickly returned.
As soon as Mr. Button arrived it was manifest to both Fred and John that he too had been strongly aroused. His eyes were shining and though his manner was quiet it was plain that he was highly elated over some discovery he had made.
As soon as he was on board the motor-boat he said, “The little Jap has taken two of the dogs and gone away.”
“Gone for good?” demanded John.
“No. The woman says he has gone out to exercise them and that he is usually gone an hour at least. Now is the time when you boys can help me if you really want to.”
“We do,” said Fred eagerly. “We’ll go ahead the minute you say so.”
“That’s very good. What I want you to do is just this,—while these dogs are away I’ll go into the house and keep the attention of the woman there.”
“What about the third dog?” demanded Fred.
“I think I can manage that, too. Now, while I’m in the house I want you somehow to get into the barn. There’s a small box about six inches square. It is a wooden box, not very heavy and hidden somewhere in that place. I am sure your eyes are keener than mine and you’ll be more likely to find it. If you get that box, almost all the difficulties will be cleared away.”
“What’s in the box?” inquired Fred.
“You do not need to know that now. Perhaps I’ll tell you later. I haven’t any idea where the box is hidden, but I am sure it is somewhere in that little barn. You won’t have very long for your search. I might say too that even if you do not find the box, if you come across anything that is suspicious or that might contain valuables, I wish you would bring it away with you.”
“Shall we look under the floor?” inquired Fred quickly.
“Yes, look under the floor. Anywhere and everywhere. Work as fast as you are able, but don’t forget that in about an hour the Jap will come back with those two Great Danes.”
“Do you want us to go straight to the barn!” inquired Fred.
“No. I think it will be better for you first to go up the shore about a mile. Then you can land and I don’t think you will be so likely to be seen from the house on your way to the barn. You will be pretty well behind it anyway. As I told you, I’ll try to keep the woman busy and I do not think that will be a very hard task.”
“Does she know you?” asked John.
“Yes, in a way. She has seen me several times and she is jealous. She thinks I am in the same business that her husband is working in.”
“Do you mean smuggling?”
“Yes.”
“Smuggling what?”
“If you find that box I will tell you more about it. Now, one of you boys take the skiff and land me and then take the skiff with you while you go farther down the shore in the motor-boat.”
The directions of Mr. Button were speedily followed. About a mile distant the boys discovered a curving, sandy shore near which the motor-boat was anchored. Taking the skiff, the boys speedily landed and then in high excitement, all the time watchful of the house in the distance, they ran swiftly toward the barn. A few trees and great rocks were found in the intervening distance and twice the boys stopped and concealed themselves while they tried to make sure that their presence as yet had not been discovered.
In this way they rapidly advanced and soon the two hundred yards which they were to cover had been left behind them and both now were standing at the rear door of the barn.
They were keenly disappointed when they discovered that this door was locked or at least fastened from within.
“What shall we do?” whispered John quickly. Before he replied Fred turned and looked keenly all about him. He was as fearful as his friend of the return of the Japanese with the two huge dogs. “Maybe there’s some other way of getting in,” he answered at last, and a moment later he announced the discovery of a slide in the side of the barn.
Quickly the slide responded to his efforts and was pulled back. Then hastily John lifted Fred and in a moment the active lad was inside the barn.
In accordance with Fred’s suggestion John remained outside. In spite of his height it was difficult for him to enter the barn as he had assisted his friend to do. “Let me know what you find,” he whispered as Fred disappeared from sight.
Silence followed the suggestion, but John was easily able to understand how busy Fred at once became. The barn itself was small, covering not more than thirty feet square. On the ground floor, Fred discovered a small cart, two cramped stalls and an open piano box, which also stood on the floor. Apparently nothing alive was in the little building. In one corner stood a ladder which led to an opening in the loft above.
Quickly deciding to begin his search at the top Fred ascended the ladder. He discovered only a little hay on the floor above and with a pitch-fork, which was conveniently near, he hastily began to scatter it. There was nothing, however, to indicate that the musty hay had recently been disturbed and when a few minutes had elapsed Fred was convinced that nothing had been concealed in the loft.
Retracing his way to the floor below he was astonished to behold his friend already busily engaged in the search.
“How did you get in, Jack?” he whispered.
“Crawled in, the same as you did. Only I didn’t have any one to give me a boost.”
“You didn’t need any boost with those long legs of yours,” responded Fred. “Sometimes I think it wouldn’t be so bad if more of us were built on your plan. Makes me think of a hickory nut stuck on two knitting needles.”
“Don’t stop for complimentary remarks,” retorted John good-naturedly. “What we want is to find that little box. You begin on one side and I’ll go on the other and we’ll examine the four sides to see if there are any more sliding panels.”
A hasty inspection, however, failed to reveal any concealed shelves. Next the boys inspected the floor. Several of the boards were loose, but the search was still unrewarded.
“I’m going up the ladder,” suggested John.
“I’ve been up there,” said Fred. “There isn’t anything up there. I know there isn’t. There isn’t much hay and what there is is old and musty. I turned it all over with the pitch-fork. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” he added somewhat disconsolately.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” said John. “We’re going ahead with our search. I think Mr. Button knew what he was talking about.”
Diligently the boys continued their efforts, working rapidly and doing their utmost to discover the small box which Mr. Button had described, or find a place where it might be concealed.
All their efforts in the stalls, however, were as unavailing as had been those in the other parts of the barn.
“I tell you,” said Fred, as the boys stopped for a moment, “there isn’t any such thing here. It’s what I tell you, like looking for a needle in a haystack.”