CAPTURE
The men in the cave lost no time in taking up the pursuit. They had
been sleeping in their clothes and, once aroused, hurried out of the
cave in search of the fugitives.
The boys raced across the rocks. Behind them they could hear shouts as
the gangsters called to each other. Then came the crash of a revolver
as one of the men pumped shot after shot in their direction.
Biff sprawled full length on the rocks.
"Are you hurt?" asked Joe, stopping to help him rise.
"No, I'm all right," gasped Biff, scrambling to his feet. He had
suffered bruises but seemed otherwise uninjured. However, when he began
to run again Joe noticed that he was limping and his progress was
slower than formerly.
Frank had the battered flashlight, but he did not dare switch it on for
fear of revealing their whereabouts to the men. The latter, however,
were stumbling along behind, following the trail by reason of the
noise the boys made in their mad flight toward the trees.
The men had the advantage in that they knew every inch of the rocky
ground. The boys had to proceed more cautiously because it was
unfamiliar to them, especially to Chet and Biff.
Biff was limping along in the rear and Joe purposely slowed down his
pace so as to remain with his chum. But the delay was fatal. Out of the
darkness came one of their pursuers, and with a growl of triumph he
flung himself at Biff.
His arms encircled the lad's legs in a perfect tackle and Biff went
down with a crash. Joe wheeled about and plunged upon them, striking
out desperately to fight off Biff's attacker. They struggled fiercely
in the darkness. Joe felt his fist crash into the man's face and he
heard a grunt of pain. Biff was wriggling out of his assailant's grasp,
and the boys might indeed have made their escape had it not been that
the other men came running up out of the shadows.
With a roar of fury, two of them plunged at the boys and hauled them
away from their comrade.
"After the other two!" shouted a voice, which they recognized as that
of Red, "They're heading for the bushes!"
Joe and Biff found themselves roughly hauled to their feet, their arms
held tightly behind them. They heard the clatter of footsteps as two of
the other men ran after Frank and Chet.
"Back to the cave with 'em," growled Red. "Looks like we've got one
of the guys that helped 'em get away. I've been thinkin' all day that
there was some one hangin' around here that we didn't know about."
The lads were shoved and pushed ahead of their captors, dragged and
bundled across the rocks until they reached the cave. Then they were
roughly shoved through the entrance into the light of the fire.
"Ah! I thought so!" declared Red. "One of the guys that tried to help
them get away." He peered closer at Joe. "Blessed if it ain't one of
those two boys that was in the boat with the Hardys that day."
One of the other men ordered the boys to sit down, and they crouched
beside the stirred-up fire, sick at heart, wondering how it fared with
Frank and Chet.
When Joe and Biff were captured it was Chet's first impulse to turn and
go back, but a warning shout from Frank restrained him.
"Keep running!" he called. "If they're caught we'll have a chance to
get help."
The wisdom of this course flashed through Chet's mind at once. If they
went to the aid of their comrades they would probably all be captured
and in a worse position than before. But if two, or even one, managed
to escape, it would be possible to bring help to the island and effect
the release of the others.
Chet heard Frank crash into the undergrowth. It was pitch dark, and
although he tried to follow he knew he had left the trail. He did not
call out because he was afraid of revealing his whereabouts to the men
behind, but he blundered on, hoping to catch up with Frank. As for the
latter, he was quite unaware of Chet's predicament.
Chet crashed into the bushes. Branches whipped his face. Roots gripped
his feet. He struggled on through the dense growth, blindly, in the
darkness. Far ahead of him he could hear Frank making his way through
the underbrush, but when he tried to go toward the sound he found that
his sense of direction was confused.
He struggled on for some time. Suddenly he saw a patch of gray light
ahead. It was the open sky and he soon plunged out of the undergrowth
into a rocky clearing. He breathed a sigh of relief.
But the relief was short-lived.
A dark figure loomed up before him. He dodged swiftly to one side, but
a huge hand caught at his clothing. He was spun violently around and
then he was caught by the collar, despite his struggles.
"Got you!" grunted the dark figure, with satisfaction. "Now if we can
only get the other--"
He said no more, but shoved Chet before him across the rocks. Then it
was that Chet found that, instead of fleeing farther away from the cave
he had really made a circle in the wood and had emerged directly into
the clearing again. He was sick with disappointment. He wriggled and
twisted in the grasp of his captor, but the man was too strong for him
and he shook Chet vigorously, tripping his feet from under him.
"None of that! You come along with me!" he rasped.
And in a few minutes Chet was shoved back into the cave, where he found
Biff Hooper and Joe Hardy crouched silently beside the fire, with
downcast faces.
Frank alone had escaped.
Frank knew that Chet had got lost but he did not dare call out, for he
could also hear the running tramp of feet that told him their pursuers
had not yet given up the chase. If he could only reach the cove and get
the motorboat started he would be able to go over to the mainland for
help. If only one escaped, it would be sufficient to save the others.
He could not afford to risk his own capture in seeking Chet.
He crashed on through the bushes, trying to make as little noise as
possible. But he was off the trail, and the tangled undergrowth was
growing denser with every forward step he took.
He still clutched the flashlight that had been the cause of their
undoing. He was glad he had found it, because in the pitch blackness
he was unable to find his way. He could hear the roar of the waves,
but they appeared to come from all sides and he was unable to judge
accurately the route to the shore.
Frank decided that he would not make use of the flashlight until it was
absolutely necessary. There was too much danger that its gleam might be
seen by one of the searchers. And he knew that the gang would not give
up the chase as long as they knew he was on the island.
"Perhaps they don't know there are two of us," he thought. "If Joe can
convince them that he rescued Chet and Biff single-handed they won't
know about me and they won't keep on searching."
In this lay his only hope--in this and in the chance that he would be
able to reach the motorboat and make his escape before being seen. But
if the gangsters knew he was still free they would leave no stone
unturned to find him, as they would know that if he once left the
island they were lost.
He blundered about in the deep thicket, turning vainly this way and
that. Great vines trailed across his face; he brushed aside stubborn
branches and soggy wet leaves; he stumbled over roots and little
bushes; the deep grass rustled and hissed at his feet.
There was no other way. He would have to use the flashlight. The
darkness was impenetrable. Trees and bushes enclosed him. He could not
see where he was going.
He switched on the light and, to one side of him, descried a sort of
passage among the bushes, so he headed in that direction. He managed
to get free of the worst of the vines and the thick foliage and found
himself in a forest aisle. He went down it, in the direction of the
booming surf. His heart beat quickly at the thought that he was now
free and that he would soon be back at the boat. What had happened to
Chet? He judged that his chum was either captured now or lost in the
grove. Frank knew that he could not wait to learn Chet's fate because
any delay would be fatal to them all.
He had switched out the flashlight and was plunging along through the
darkness when the forest aisle suddenly took a twist and he found
himself again floundering in the midst of trees and trailing vines that
entangled him.
Frank switched on the flashlight again.
And a second later he heard a grim voice from close by:
"Throw up your hands!"
He wheeled about and found himself suddenly bathed in a ring of light.
Some one was standing only a few feet away with a flashlight leveled
at him, and in the beam of the flashlight he could see a glittering
revolver aimed directly toward him.
"Throw up your hands!" rasped the voice again, "or you'll be shot."
Slowly Frank raised his hands above his head.
"That's better. Now march back ahead of me. Back to the cave, young
fellow. We've got you all now. Forward march!"