MR. BARCLAY LAYS HIS PLANS
It appeared that one of the letters which Harry had secured was from Mr.
Barclay, and shortly after the boys got back to the ranch Mr. Oliver
sent them off to Bannington's with the sloop. Mr. Barclay, he said, was
expected down by the next steamer and they must be there in time to take
him off. It proved to be an uneventful trip and they returned to the
cove with their passenger just as a gloomy day was dying out. Mr. Oliver
was shut up with his guest for an hour after supper that night, but at
length he called the boys into his room, where Mr. Barclay lay in a big
chair with a cigar in his hand. He looked up with a smile when they came
in.
"No doubt you'll be pleased to hear that we expect to round up your
dope-running friends before the week is out," he said. "Anyway, I fancy
it was a relief to my host."
"There's no doubt on that point," Mr. Oliver assured him. "I don't mind
admitting that the suspense and the uncertainty as to what they might do
were worrying me rather badly."
Frank was surprised to hear it, for the rancher had certainly shown no
sign of uneasiness.
"You mean you're going to break up the gang once for all and corral the
whole of them?" he asked.
"Something like that," answered Mr. Barclay lazily. "If there's no hitch
in the proceedings, I don't expect many of them will be left at large
when our traps are sprung, though the affair will have to be managed
with a good deal of caution."
Harry smiled. "There oughtn't to be any hitch. You have been a mighty
long while fixing up the thing."
"That remark," said Mr. Barclay, "is to some extent justified. Over in
Europe they say 'slow and sure,' though I don't suppose it's a maxim
that's likely to appeal to young America. We'll paraphrase it into this
form: 'Don't move until you know exactly what you mean to do and how
you're going to set about it, and then get at it like a battering ram.'"
"A battering ram must have been a clumsy, old-time contrivance," Harry
objected.
"There are reasons for believing it could strike very hard," said his
father with a smile.
"It would naturally take a long while to work the thing out," Frank
broke in, addressing Mr. Barclay.
"It did," the little, stout man assented. "We had to get hold of a clue
here, and another there, and follow them up as far as possible without
giving anybody the least idea what we were after. It might have been
more difficult if one hadn't been purposely placed in our hands a week
ago."
"Somebody has been giving the gang away?" asked Frank.
"That doesn't quite describe it," Mr. Barclay answered. "To be precise,
somebody has sold them. It appears that one man a little smarter than
the rest discovered that the gang was being watched. That scared him,
and, as it happened, he'd had a difference of opinion with the bosses
about the share he claimed to be entitled to. He didn't point his
suspicions out to them, but when, as he said, they couldn't be induced
to do the square thing he came along to one of my subordinates, who sent
him to me. I'm not sure that I'd have got much information out of him
then if I hadn't been able to convince him that he and his partners
were already more or less in my hands."
Frank was impressed by what he had heard. Indeed, he was conscious that
he was half afraid of the man who sprawled lazily in his chair smiling
at him. He appeared so easy-going and he had bantered Harry so
good-humoredly, but all the time he had been following up the smugglers'
trail with a deadly unwavering patience and a keenness which missed the
significance of no clue, however small. Now when at last the time for
action had come the boy felt that he would strike in the swiftest and
most effective manner.
"If there's any small part you can give us--" he said hesitatingly.
"There is," said Mr. Barclay, to the delight of Frank and his companion.
"It appears that they intend to land a parcel of dope and some Chinamen
at a place down the Straits of Fuca. It will be done at night--the moon
will be only in her first quarter next week--and the schooner will stand
out to the westward, keeping clear of the traffic to wait for the next
evening before going on to the place where she's to make another call.
The men and the dope will be seized soon after they're put ashore
without anybody on board the vessel being the wiser if our plans work
out right, but it's important that we should know as soon as possible if
anything has gone wrong and it will be your business to bring me on a
message. We'll have a small steamer and a posse hidden ready at this
end, and when the schooner runs in two nights later she'll fall into our
hands with the rest of the gang, who'll be waiting for what she brings."
Frank looked at Mr. Oliver, who nodded his consent.
"Yes," he said, "I've promised to let you go, though in this case you'll
have to take Jake along."
Then Mr. Barclay spread out a chart upon the table and pointed first to
an inlet which appeared to lie at some distance from any settlement.
"You'll run in here in the dark and lie close in with the beach until
you're hailed by a mounted messenger, which will probably be early on
the following morning. When he has given you his message you must manage
to deliver it to me here"--he laid his finger on another spot on the
chart--"at the latest by the second evening following. That's important,
as it's impossible for me to get the news by mail or wire."
He gave them some further instructions, and half an hour had slipped by
before he seemed satisfied that they knew exactly what they were to do;
then he nodded.
"I think you've got it right," he said. "The great thing is not to be
seen if you can help it, and if it's possible you must only run in at
either place in the dark."
The boys spent the next two days in a state of eager anticipation,
which, however, became much less marked when one lowering afternoon
after a long, cold sail they beat the sloop out to the westward down the
Straits of Fuca. They had kept watch alternately with Jake during the
previous night, throughout most of which it had rained hard, and now
Frank, who admitted to himself that he had had enough sailing for a
while, was feeling rather limp and weary. He sat beneath the coaming, as
far as he could get out of the bitter wind. When at last he raised his
head to look about him, he saw nothing very cheerful in the prospect
before him.
The light was dim, the low gray sky to windward looked hard and
threatening, and a long gray blur which he supposed to be land rose up
indistinctly over the port hand. Ahead dingy, formless slopes of water
heaved themselves up slowly one after another in dreary succession. They
were ridged and wrinkled here and there, and now and then a little wisp
of white appeared on one of them, for the long swell of the Pacific was
working in. The breeze was very moderate as yet, and each time the sloop
sluggishly swung up her bows and lurched over one of the undulations
her mainboom jerked and lifted amidst a harsh clatter of blocks, while
the water inside her went swishing to and fro. The noise presently
aroused Jake, who was sitting silently at the helm.
"One of you had better get her pumped out," he said. "You haven't done
it since we started, and you won't find it easy by and by."
"It doesn't look nice up yonder," said Harry, glancing windward.
"It's either blowing hard in the Pacific or going to do it, and we'll
get it presently. I'd be better pleased if we were nearer that inlet.
It's eight or nine miles off, and the wind's dead ahead."
"The dope men would rather have a black, wild night, wouldn't they?"
suggested Frank.
"They're going to be gratified," Harry answered significantly.
Frank, glad to do something to warm himself, set to work at the little
rotary pump, and a stream of water splashed and spread about the deck,
which slanted and straightened irregularly. He was still busy when Jake
called to him.
"You can let up and get that jib off her. Strip it right off the stay.
We're not going to have any use for a sail of that kind. Get out the
small one, Harry."
"There's no wind to speak of yet," Harry protested.
"Well," said Jake grimly, "you'll have plenty before you're through."
Harry dragged up the small sail, and when Frank had lowered the larger
one they proceeded to strip it off the stay. It took them some little
time, but Frank, glancing at the slowly heaving, leaden water, fancied
that there was no need for haste until as he and his companion bundled
the canvas off the deck Jake called to them.
"Up with that jib!" he ordered. "Get a hustle!"
They had the halliard in their hands, and the sail was half set, when it
blew out suddenly and there was a sharp creaking. The sloop slanted
over wildly and a curious humming, rippling sound broke out to windward.
Glancing around a moment Frank saw that the swell was growing white, and
a rush of cold wind nearly whipped his cap away. Then jamming his feet
against a ledge with the deck sloping away beneath him he struggled
furiously to hoist the jib, while disjointed cries reached him from the
helmsman.
"Heave!" Jake roared. "I can do nothing with her until you have it set!"
They got the sail up somehow, though by the time they had finished the
sloop's lee rail was in the sea, and then flung themselves upon the
mainsail. They were breathless with the effort before they had tied two
reefs in it, and Frank wondered at the change in their surroundings when
at length he sat down in the well.
The sea, which had run in long and almost smooth undulations before they
began to reef, now splashed and seethed about the boat, and each big
slope of water was seamed with innumerable smaller ridges. Bitter spray
was flying thick in the air, water already sluiced about the deck, and
it was disconcerting to recollect that they were still eight miles from
the inlet. This would not have mattered so much had it not lain dead to
windward, which meant that they must fight for every yard they made.
There was shelter to lee of them. They could put up the helm and run,
but though they were wet through in a few minutes they braced themselves
for the struggle, while the savage blast screamed about them and the
ominous sound Frank had noticed--the splash of waves that curled and
broke--came more loudly out of the gathering gloom ahead. Though his
physical nature shrank from the task before him Frank would not have
chosen to go back. It was a big thing they were taking a hand in, the
climax which all their previous adventures had led up to, and he
recognized that they must see it through at any cost.
At last he was playing a man's part, acting in close cooeperation with
the Government of his country, and Mr. Barclay, who had elaborated the
scheme with infinite patience and foresight, counted upon him and his
comrade. That they should fail him now was out of the question, but
Frank was glad that Jake sat at the tiller. Harry was quick and daring,
but he was young, and in this fight there was urgent need for the
instinctive skill which comes from long experience. The helmsman's
stolidness was more reassuring. He gazed up to windward, gripping the
tiller, with the spray upon his rugged face, ready for whatever action
might be necessary. Loud talking and an assertive manner were of no
service here; what was wanted was raw human valor and steadfast nerve.
It was fortunate that Jake, who was tranquil and good-humored, possessed
both.
Darkness shut down on them suddenly as they thrashed her out to westward
full and by, lurching with flooded decks over the charging seas. Their
whitened tops broke over her, her canvas ran water, and every other
minute she plunged into a comber with buried bows. The combers, growing
rapidly higher, broke more angrily, and her progress changed into a
series of jerks and plunges, which at times threatened to shake the
spars out of her. Frank could see the black mainsail peak above him
swinging madly up and down, and it seemed at times that half her length
was out of the water, which was not improbably the case, for the foam
upon her hove-up deck poured aft in cascades over the low coaming and
splashed about their feet. By and by, for she was shallow-bodied like
most centerboard craft, it began to gather in a pool which washed to and
fro across the floorings in her lee bilge, and at a shout from Jake he
started the pump. It needed no priming, for as soon as he unscrewed the
covering plate the sea ran down, and there was now nothing to show what
water it flung out, because half the lee deck was buried in a rush of
gurgling foam and the combers' tops broke continuously over the bows.
Still, the work roused and warmed him, and he toiled on, battered and
almost blinded by flying brine, while he wondered how long the boat
would stand the pressure of her largely reduced sail. He did not think
they could tie another reef in, because it seemed certain that something
must burst or break the moment a rope was started. Besides, even had it
been possible, reefing was out of the question. Their harbor lay to
weather, and a boat will not sail to windward in a vicious breeze unless
she is driven at a speed which is greater than the resistance of the
opposing seas.
They thrashed her out for two anxious hours, since it appeared doubtful
that she would come round and a failure to stay her would be perilous in
the extreme, but at last Jake called to the boys.
"We've got to do it somehow," he said. "Stand by your lee jibsheet and
tail on to the mainsheet the moment you let it run. Hold on till I tell
you. We'll wait for a smooth."
A smooth, as it is termed by courtesy, is the interval that now and then
follows the onslaught of several unusually heavy seas, and at length as
the boat swung up with a little less water upon her deck Jake seemed
satisfied.
"Now! Helm's a-lee!" he shouted.
They let the jib fly, and jumping for the mainsheet hauled with all
their might, while Jake helped them with one hand as the boat came up to
the wind. Then as a comber fell upon her they sprang back to the
jibsheet and hauled upon it, while the spray flew all over them. It
struck Frank that if the boat did not come round there would very
speedily be an end of her. While he watched, holding his breath, the
bows swung around a little farther, and working in frantic haste they
let the sheet fly and made fast the opposite one, which was now to lee.
She forged ahead on the other tack--and the most imminent peril was
past.
It was two hours later when they raised the land again, and though one
or the other of them had pumped continuously the water was splashing
high about their feet. Jake had, however, made a good shot of it, for he
recognized a ridge of higher ground marked upon the chart, and they
drove in toward it, battered, swept, and streaming. Frank felt strangely
limp when at length they ran into smoother water, and Jake made one
significant remark.
"We're through," he said, "but if we'd had to make another tack it would
have finished her."
The black land grew higher until they could make out masses of shadowy
pines, and eventually dropping the jib and peak they ran her in behind a
point with very thankful hearts and let go the anchor. Half of their
task was finished, and they could take their ease until morning broke.