THE CASTLE
Jim's persistence was rewarded in a short time, when they came to the
boundary of the wood. Here they found the trail very clearly marked, as
in the old game of hare and hounds where the point of a new departure is
marked by a bunch of cut paper. So in this case there were clear
footprints, where the two rascals had cleared the fence and lighted on
the damp earth on the other side.
"Where do you suppose they are heading for?" asked the engineer.
"The devil or the deep sea," replied Jim, humorously inclined.
"If they follow this direction, it will be the deep sea for certain,"
remarked Berwick, "for this trail is making straight for the bay, or I
miss my guess."
"I bet anything that those two guys are planning to reach the _Sea
Eagle_, and there will be a boat lying in some cove to take them out,"
said Jim decisively.
"Surely Captain Broome wouldn't have the gall to bring your captured
yacht into the bay right under the nose of the authorities," said the
engineer.
"Huh!" grunted Jim; "that wouldn't be anything extraordinary for old
Broome to do. He'd delight in it; and another thing, according to my
idea the authorities and Captain William Broome ain't on such bad terms
but what they can shut an eye to some of his performances. Besides it
was his ship in the first instance," concluded Jim with a grin.
"A pirate don't have any title, anyhow," remarked the engineer.
"Maybe he does in San Francisco," remarked Jim with great simplicity.
At this Jim's chief engineer laughed heartily.
"That would be true doctrine enough for my native town of New York," he
said.
"Well, howsumever, Captain Broome don't need any title. He keeps what he
has and takes what he hasn't."
"You are an epigrammatist, Jim," said Berwick, smiling.
"Won't I ever outgrow it?" asked Jim anxiously.
"No, you will get worse as you become older," declared his friend.
"Gee, that's a bad outlook. Well, where there is life there is hope,"
replied Jim; "no use nosing this trail along, we have got the general
direction and we want to get to the beach just as soon as we can so as
to head those fellows off."
The two of them then started on a brisk trot and in a short time they
heard the roar of the surf on the sand. But about a quarter of a mile
from the beach they came to a halt, for a high fence barred their way.
"Hello, what does this mean?" inquired Jim with interest.
"It means we have come on someone's private estate," remarked the
engineer, "and judging from the sharpness of these iron spikes, they are
not at home to ordinary folks like us."
"I can just make out the house," remarked Jim, "and it looks like a big
one."
There was the indistinct loom of the house through the fog; it appeared
to be made of brick, with white trimmings and a huge chimney in the
center clad with ivy. This was a good many years ago, and no remnant of
this place remains to-day, for fire and earthquake wrought the ruin of
this mansion, long before the catastrophe of 1906.
"Let's walk around this estate before it gets completely dark," said
Jim, "which will be pretty soon now."
"You don't suppose that those two misguided pirates live here, do you?"
questioned the engineer.
"Hardly," admitted Jim, "but they might be hiding in the yard."
"It would be tough work getting over," said the engineer, "especially
with what is coming from the direction of the house." Jim looked and
pulled his friend down behind the parapet of stone in which the iron
fence was set.
"Perhaps it won't see us," said Jim in a low voice. But they were a wee
bit too late to escape detection. Between the shrubbery there came at a
menacing lope, a huge, yellow-white, bloodhound, with hanging dew laps,
and following him a great Dane whose velvety black form held a real
ferocity. They leaped high with their forefeet against the iron fence,
striving frantically to reach the two men on the other side.
"They are more dangerous than the mountain lion, those dogs," said
Berwick.
"I'm very glad to be on this side of the fence," admitted Jim. "We
wouldn't stand much show without our guns."
"I thought you ate them alive," laughed John Berwick, referring to the
incident in the wood.
"It was to keep you from being eaten up yourself," grinned Jim. "Say,
Chief, let's move out of range, or these beasts will rouse the whole
country."
"All right, Captain," agreed Berwick, using Jim's sea title, and as they
were rather at sea, it was quite appropriate. They reached a large rock
that stood out on the plain away from the house, and sat down on it,
until the noise of the baying had ceased.
"Did you think to fetch a lunch with you on this festive occasion,
James?" inquired Berwick.
"Bah Jove, old chap," replied James, "we left in such haste that it
slipped my mind, don't yer know."
"I wish your mind hadn't been so slippery," remarked the engineer. "If
you could only have had presence of mind enough to have brought an olive
or two."
"I tell you, Chief," said Jim, airily, "I'll have the dinner ready by
the time you get your dress suit. But coming down to the plain English
of it, I'm starved. Think of the exercise we have had since leaving the
restaurant to join our friend on the sidewalk."
"A man who would put you to all that trouble to speak to him is no
gentleman," declared John Berwick whimsically.
"He deserves to be hung," said Jim savagely; "anyone who would impose on
a trustful nature like yours and make you run over twenty miles of
landscape! But cheer up, John, I have a hunch that we will strike a pay
streak of grub yet. Let's take one more scout around that mysterious
castle yonder and then we will make a bee line for the nearest lunch
counter."
"Any time you give the word."
"Well, I suppose that 'all's quiet along the Potomac,' so let's move."
"Agreed, James," said the engineer.
Then the two friends slipped through the soft darkness of the night and
fog until they reached the iron rampart of the fence and went past the
great gates. There was a gilt monogram on either side and in the center,
but these things did not interest them. Then they went on to the south
part of the grounds.
"See that, John!" said Jim in a low voice.
"A light in the tower," replied his friend; "now it's gone out again."
They stood watching with breathless interest. There are lights and
lights. Some are the mere commonplace of domestic peace set on a round
table in a cozy room with children intent on the Frontier Boys. Then
there is the weird light of a lantern moving unevenly across a field, or
revolving along a hidden lane, and there is something of the dramatic in
its yellow flame. Finally there is the light that shines under strange
circumstances or peculiar surroundings that has a mystery of its own, a
beacon of danger, or of sudden death.
"It is again on this side, only higher up," announced Jim; "somebody
going up those stairs, that's what it is."
In a few moments the powerful lamp illuminated an upper room and they
saw the interior distinctly. But what fastened their attention was the
sight of a head that showed just above the sill of the windows. It must
be the head of a child to reach no higher. But what would a child be
doing up in that lonely tower. Jim gripped his companion's arm.
"It's that infernal Mexican, Berwick!" he whispered.
"No other!" said his friend. "And that light is a signal."
"Can't be seen far even if the fog is thinner," objected Jim.
"Broome is close in," said the engineer decisively.
"It may be to serve as a guide for some party coming over the lonely
moor," said Jim with much shrewdness.
"Go to the head of the class, James," remarked Berwick; "that's a sound
guess for a fact."
"Guess nothing," retorted Jim; "that's a deduction as they say in the
school books. What in the deuce is that up there now!"
A canine head was outlined in an open window and then the big hound gave
tongue that went far into the night. His senses told him that an enemy
was lurking near.
"My! what a mark for a shot!" whispered Jim.
Then they heard a sharp command in Spanish and both the dog and the
Mexican disappeared from view.
"We had better move along, Jim," said the engineer, "or we will be on
the hot end of a chase ourselves." Without a word Jim started, but he
would not run far.