THE THREE CONSPIRATORS.
Harry made his way down to the dock, where the boat had been left, with
“both eyes open,” as the saying goes. He did not fear that he would miss
sighting whoever came off the _River Swallow_ as soon as they were sure
that the boys had gone up town. Of course he was assuming that Malvin
and the man he was certain he had spied earlier that day, would leave
together. If they did this, even if they vacated the motor craft before
he reached it, there was only one road that they could follow, and that
was the street down which Harry was walking, the only thoroughfare that
led to the dock.
As he hurried along, many thoughts surged into the lad’s mind. What was
he to do in the event of the mysterious “third man” actually leaving the
boat?
“I guess my best plan will be just to stick to their heels wherever they
go,” he said to himself. “Yes,” he went on, busily turning matters over
in his mind, “that’s the scheme. While Ralph and Harry are looking after
things in town, this end of the game is up to your Uncle Dudley.”
As he neared the wharf, Harry became aware that great excitement and
bustle were going forward there. The down river passenger boat had just
arrived, and a number of people were struggling to disembark by way of
the gang plank, while an equally determined crowd was striving to get on
board. Suddenly the boy became aware of three figures among the crowd,
whom he recognized instantly.
The trio was composed of Malvin, Hansen and another man.
As Harry saw this third member of the group, he almost gave vent to an
involuntary cry of recognition.
The stranger was the same man whom they had encountered on Windmill
Island on the eventful previous night.
There was no mistake. Harry recognized instantly every feature of the
fellow’s face, which had been etched upon his mind with all the
vividness of a photograph.
Harry’s pulses bounded as he made this discovery. So, then, it appeared
that Ralph had been right. Unquestionably a link did exist between
Windmill Island and Malvin, and also, apparently, Hansen, although the
boy was morally certain that the obtuse Norwegian was merely an
insignificant pawn in whatever mysterious game was being played by
Malvin and the other man.
“Well, this is a discovery,” gasped the boy as he watched the three
talking earnestly together, not far from where the _River Swallow_ lay
tugging at her moorings.
Then, like a galvanic shock, another thought flashed through his mind.
The third man,—the man of the island,—was also, almost without question,
the fellow whom Harry had seen slip along the deck and vanish down the
forescuttle, when the Border Boys appeared to board the _River Swallow_
some time before they were expected.
The elation of this revelation was still stirring in the lad’s mind,
when the three men, who seemed oblivious of the crowd about them,
suddenly shoved their way through the press, and, walking side by side,
set off up the road that led toward town.
This was insubordination of the rankest sort on Malvin’s part. He had
been told by Ralph to stay by the boat. Now Harry’s mind alternated
between indignation and curiosity as he saw the trio coming toward him.
Near where he stood was a big pile of empty boxes and barrels. It was
the work of only an instant for him to slip adroitly behind these and
effectually conceal himself as the men advanced toward him.
They were talking earnestly and eagerly. As they came abreast of Harry’s
place of concealment, he heard Malvin’s voice. The fellow evidently did
not fear detection or eavesdroppers, for he was talking in a bold, loud
voice.
“A lucky thing I hid in that shrubbery and overheard every word the
young whelps were saying,” he was exclaiming. “Otherwise we might have
walked right into a trap. What do you advise doing, Hawke?”
“So the man of the island is named Hawke, is he?” thought Harry, as he
listened with every instinct strained. “Well, that’s one discovery, Mr.
Malvin. Another one is that I was not mistaken when I thought I heard
something in the shrubbery this afternoon.”
“Give me time to breathe a bit after my confinement in that gasoline
compartment,” rejoined Hawke in a surly manner. “I thought I’d suffocate
in there. That inquisitive young brat stayed down in the forepeak too
long to suit me, I can tell you.”
“Well, it was a good thing I gave you warning by shouting, ‘Look out
below,’” rejoined Malvin; “otherwise all our plans might have been
upset.”
Hansen’s voice halted the two worthies just as Harry feared they were
about to get out of earshot.
“Hold on, you fallers,” he heard the Norwegian say, “vile I skoll gat
light by my pipe.”
“Hurry up, then. We’ve work ahead of us,” came Malvin’s voice. “Those
brats are off up town to try to talk to Jim Whey. We want to get ahead
of them.”
“If that boy talks, I’ll——” Hawke’s voice trailed off in a threatening
growl.
[Illustration: “If that boy talks, I’ll——” Hawke’s voice trailed off in
a threatening growl.]
“So Jim Whey is the name of that lad you said was your son till we
called your bluff,” thought Harry, as he listened while the Norwegian
struggled to get a light in the brisk breeze that was blowing.
“Pshaw! That lad won’t be able to talk for some time to come, if he was
as badly hurt as you told me,” said Malvin, reassuringly. “It was right
after I’d slipped my anchor and given the kids the go-by that I heard
the explosion and saw the flash. I always told you to be careful about
that dynamite, Hawke.”
“It was Rawson that would have it stored there,” grumbled the other. “He
had a crazy notion that some time we might make a submarine mine out of
it, and make things hot for anyone who came snooping around Windmill
Island uninvited. How was I to know that that crazy dog would come
galloping into the shack and upset the lamp and blow everything to
Kingdom Come? If the boy and I hadn’t skinned out as soon as it
happened, we’d neither of us be on earth to-night. I wonder where the
_Artful Dodger_ was when things exploded?”
“I don’t know,” responded Malvin; “we’d sighted her not long before, and
she played the phosphorescent trick, the light stunt and all, but it
didn’t scare those pesky kids, except one of ’em who swore she was a
spook!”
Hawke burst into a laugh. Harry’s ears burned as he heard.
“I wish they were all like that,” continued Malvin. “Confound them, they
ran me out of a good job, and we can’t use the _River Swallow_ any more
in our work. And not content with that, they’ve got to start chasing the
_Artful Dodger_ now.”
“Well, they’ll chase her a precious long time before they get any
satisfaction,” responded Hawke; “and then it’s liable to be in reverse
English. Rawson isn’t the sort of man to stand for any monkey business.
He’d as lief send ’em all to the bottom as eat, I reckon.”
“Yes, that’s Rawson,” agreed Malvin. “Well, Hansen, got your light?”
“Aye, aye,” growled the Norwegian.
“Then come on. We’ve wasted too much time already.”
The trio struck off up the road toward the town. Harry, after waiting
what he deemed a safe period of time, slipped from his place of
concealment and followed them.
His brain was fairly in a whirl with what he had overheard. It explained
many things.
Judging from what the men had said, the “spook motor craft” was called
the _Artful Dodger_ and was engaged in some nefarious business, as,
indeed, the boys had already guessed. A man named Rawson was in command
of her, and he was evidently a desperate character. The mention of the
submarine mines, the explosive for which had been detonated by accident,
amply demonstrated that.
Moreover, Malvin must have visited the island the night before, after
they had left with the boy, and taken Hawke on board the _River
Swallow_, concealing him in a small space under the gasoline tanks
forward. Nor was this all. The injured lad, Jim Whey, was clearly a cog
in the machine somewhere.
Also, judging from what he had overheard, Jim Whey knew much of the
machinations of the gang of which, apparently, he was an unwilling
member. Otherwise, why should the men have feared that he might talk to
the lads who had rescued him? That Jim had revelations of importance to
make, was clear from what had been said.
“I’ll have to hurry up and meet the others,” exclaimed Harry to himself
as he hastened along, taking care to keep a safe distance behind the
three men he could see ahead of him.
“My! I guess I’ve got something to tell them that won’t sound like any
ghost story from Spook Land!”