THE STORM
The four men had dinner about the campfire and when the meal was over
the man they called Red got up.
"May as well go back to the cave," he remarked. "It's cooler than out
here."
"It's hot enough to put a man to sleep out on these rocks," said one of
the others. "Yeah, let's go on up to the cave."
"I don't like the idea of stayin' too close to the cave," growled the
man who had been by the fire. "If anybody comes around here and should
find us they'll have to look some to find _them_ as long as we're not
near the cave, see?"
"That's all right, Pete," retorted Red. "If any one comes on this
island we'll know of it in lots of time to clear away from the cave. We
may as well keep cool."
There was a grumbled assent from Pete, and then the Hardy boys heard
sounds of receding footsteps as the quartette strode off through the
grass. They waited until the men were out of earshot, then peered
through the undergrowth.
"Shall we follow them?" asked Joe eagerly.
"You bet we will! I want to know where this cave is that they're
talking about. And I want to know who the prisoners are that they
mentioned."
"Do you think it really could be Chet and Biff?"
"I'm almost sure it is. Didn't you hear the fellow saying that the
prisoners kept insisting that there'd been a mistake? We've figured it
out right all along. They captured Chet and Biff in mistake for us."
The Hardy boys began moving through the undergrowth on the trail of the
four men. They crouched down and kept to the shelter of the bushes so
that they were able to proceed at a good rate of speed without exposing
themselves to view.
"If we can only get into the cave and get Chet and Biff free!"
exclaimed Joe.
"It won't be any too easy. They seem to be guarding them pretty
closely. First of all, we've got to be certain that it's them."
"I don't think there's any doubt of that. Everything hangs together too
well. If we could get them out we could run for the boat and get them
away to the mainland."
"That's what we'll have to plan on. But the main thing is to find this
cave."
"Yes, of course."
The four men in the lead had entered the outskirts of a small grove
toward the center of the island. Frank could just see the head and
shoulders of the last man disappearing into the woods. He marked the
spot where the fellow had entered the grove and the Hardy boys made
toward it. They found it comparatively easy to follow the trail, for
the others had beaten down the grass and twigs in passing, and in a few
minutes they had reached the grove.
"Go slow," cautioned Frank, as they entered the shadow of the trees.
"They may have seen us crossing the clearing."
They listened for a moment. They could hear the crashing of branches
and the crackling of twigs, the distant hum of voices, as the quartette
continued through the woods, so they went ahead.
The wood was steaming hot and the ground was dank underfoot. The grass
was long and the leaves of the trees drooped of their own weight. Once
Frank saw a blacksnake scurrying away through the grass, but none of
the serpents molested them. The path the boys followed was beaten
down by the feet of the men ahead and they made easy progress until
at length the sight of a clearing ahead warned them to again exercise
caution.
They crept along through the trees and underbrush until the clearing
came fully into view. It was at that part of the interior of the island
where the swamp gave way to the rocks, and the grassy clearing led in
a gradual slope to a high wall of rock, at the base of which was the
mouth of a cave. As the Hardy boys watched, they could see the four
men at the opening. One of the fellows, a tall, dark man, was mopping
his brow with a handkerchief, while another, a man with a shock of
red hair, was just going into the cavern. The other two had flung
themselves down on the rocks in the shadow of some overhanging bushes.
"So that's the cave!" exclaimed Frank.
"I wonder if Chet and Biff are inside."
"Most likely. I wish we could get a little closer."
"Too dangerous. They can see any one coming into the clearing."
This was true. The cave had evidently been chosen not only for its
possibilities as a shelter but for its defensive virtues as well. It
was plainly the hangout of the gang.
"We'll have our work cut out for us to get in there," muttered Frank.
"The place is too much in the open. Our only chance is to wait until
some of them go away."
"We might be able to sneak up closer when they're asleep."
"We'll try it. The only thing for us to do right now is wait until
they're all asleep."
The boys settled themselves down in the bushes, prepared for a vigil
until nightfall. It was now late in the afternoon, and when Frank
glanced up at the sky he saw that clouds had gathered. The sunshine
had gone, for a dense black cloud obscured the sun. The sultry and
oppressive heat of the afternoon had evidently presaged a storm.
"Looks like rain."
"It sure does," agreed Joe, looking up.
As though in corroboration, there was an ominous rumble of thunder. The
wind had died down. Every leaf, every blade of grass was still. The
clouds were massing silently.
However, the storm held off, and although the sky was overcast and
threatening, twilight fell without rain. Frank and Joe, from their
hiding place in the bushes, watched the four men moving aimlessly about
the cave that afternoon. Two of them had remained inside the cave for a
long time while the other pair chatted on the rocks outside.
Night came at last. From the interior of the cave came the flicker of
flames, and the Hardy boys knew that the gang was making a fire for the
night.
The heat was still oppressive. Darkness fell without moon or stars.
"We'll soon be able to creep up on them now," said Frank. "If we can
only get close enough to hear what they're saying we'll probably be
able to make sure if they have Chet and Biff with them."
The boys waited until the fire had died down. The four men had all
disappeared within the cave.
"Quiet, now," Frank whispered. He began to make his way out of the
undergrowth. Joe followed close behind. They crept up toward the
entrance to the cave.
They were about half-way across the open space when the whole scene
about them was suddenly revealed with startling clarity in the livid
glow of a flash of lightning. This was followed immediately by a crash
of thunder that seemed to shake the very rocks on which they stood. As
though this were but a prelude, rain began to fall, gently at first,
then with increasing force. Other lightning flashes followed. Then the
storm broke in all its fury.
A gradually rising wind began to rake the tree-tops and the swishing of
leaves and creaking of limbs could be plainly heard. The dull booming
of the waves on the distant shore, the moaning of the wind, the driving
spatter of rain, the constant peals of thunder, continually rose in
volume, and the rain poured furiously from the black skies above.
The storm had broken so suddenly that the Hardy boys were taken aback.
Their first impulse was to race for the shelter of the cave, but second
thought told them that this would be unwise, for the men in the cave
might be aroused by the storm.
"We'd better go back to the boat," said Frank, turning about. "It's
liable to be wrecked."
Joe had almost forgotten about their motorboat. It was on the seaward
side of the island and the storm was coming in from the sea. Although
the boat was partly protected by the little cove into which they had
brought it, there was every danger that the storm might cast the craft
up on the rocks and wreck it. The consequences, in that case, would be
grave. They would be unable to escape from Blacksnake Island at all
without giving themselves up to the gang.
The boys turned and fled back across the rocks. Rain streamed down upon
them. Thunder crashed. Lightning flickered, illuminating for brief
seconds the tossing trees and the tumbled rocks before them.
Joe, during the afternoon, had occupied himself ascertaining the
position of the grove and the cave relative to the little bay in which
they had left the motorboat and he had come to the conclusion that
the grove was not far away from the end of the island and almost in a
direct line with the cove. Now, in their mad race toward the shore, he
took the lead, heading toward the rocky bluffs.
The Hardy boys stumbled through the grove, keeping somehow to the
trail. They were aided by the lightning flashes that gave spasmodic
illumination, revealing the soggy leaves, the black branches, the
tossing tree-tops bowed in the wind.
The storm had become a din of furious sound. The gale shrieked its way
across the island from the booming sea and the thunder rolled like a
battery of cannon while the rain beat down on the forest in a drumming
downpour.
The boys were soaked to the skin. They fled toward the shore, keeping
their course more by instinct than judgment, and all the time there was
the dread thought in their minds that they were lost if the _Sleuth_
should be cast up on the rocks and wrecked.