CHAPTER VIII

DRIVEN BACK

Sammy's two chums did not answer for a minute. They looked at each

other, and then Frank exclaimed:

"I've got a bite, and a big one, too. Pass that net down here!"

For a moment the prospect of catching another crab was greater even than

the chance of finding out something about the strange man. Bob handed

his companion the net, and Frank cautiously began pulling up on the cord

to which was fastened the chunk of meat-bait. With his other hand he

held the net ready to plunge into the water, and scoop up his prize.

"There he is!" cried Bob, whose bait was not then being taken. "Get him,

Frank!"

"I will. Don't get excited and rock the boat. I'll have him in a

minute!"

"There!" exclaimed Sammy, whose attention was also taken away from the

man for the moment. "Net him!"

Frank plunged the net into the water, trying to get it under the crab,

which was clinging to the meat with its claws. But the boy was not quite

quick enough, or else he hit the crab with the iron ring of the net, for

the creature suddenly let go, and with a quick motion of his broad,

swimming flippers went scurrying off into the depths again.

"Oh, he got away!" cried Bob, in disappointed tones.

"You weren't quite quick enough," spoke Sammy.

"I was so! You jiggled my arm, and made the net hit him!" exclaimed

Frank. "It was the biggest one I had, too; a yellow fellow, full of

meat!" and he gazed reproachfully at Sammy.

"I did not jiggle your arm!" returned Sammy.

"You did so!"

"I did not!"

"Fellows, if we're going to trail that mysterious man, let's do it, and

not scrap," suggested Bob. This was as near to a quarrel as any of the

chums ever got. Frank's little burst of temper was soon over.

"Well, we've got enough crabs, anyhow," he said, looking into the basket

where they were kept, covered with seaweed, so the sun would not make

them die. For crabs are only good when cooked alive, or soon after they

have died. Otherwise they are very likely to be poisonous.

"Yes, we have a good mess," agreed Sammy. "I didn't mean to jiggle your

arm, if I did, Frank," he went on. "I'll give you one of my crabs to pay

for it, if you say so."

"You will not! They all go in the same kettle, anyhow. Say, Bob," he

went on, "what's the matter with having a clam roast out on the beach

some night?"

"Sure we can," said Bob. "We'll build a fire, roast clams and boil

crabs, and have some of the other fellows over. That'll be fun!"

"It sure will," agreed Sammy. "But say, fellows, what about him?" and he

nodded in the direction of the old man in the clump of evergreen trees.

He was still digging away, seemingly paying no attention to anything, or

anyone, around him. "Are we going to follow him, or not?"

"We can't follow him, when he isn't going anywhere," observed Bob.

"No, but he may start off at any time," said Sammy. "We could tell

where he lives, and then we could find out something about him. As it is

now we can't even tell who he is, and there are a lot of men who look

like him around Lighthouse Cove."

"Well, what's your plan?" asked Frank, carefully pulling up his crab

line, in the hope that the big fellow had again taken the meat. One was

there, but it was so small that he shook it off, not wanting to net it.

"I say let's row close over to where he is," suggested Sammy. "Then,

when he starts off, we can go ashore and follow him."

"Maybe he's got a boat hidden somewhere on shore," said Bob. "Let's take

a look."

The boys scanned the beach, but could see nothing of another craft.

Meanwhile, the old man in the clump of evergreens continued to dig away.

He paid no attention to the boys.

"Tell you what it is," said Sammy, at length, "we've got to play foxy

now. We don't want any more of that hermit business."

"What do you mean?" asked Frank.

"Well, you know what happened when we followed that old man on Pine

Island. He pushed us over a cliff into a snow bank."

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Bob.

"What's the matter?" demanded Sammy. "I don't see anything to laugh at."

"You don't? Well, there's no snow bank, for one thing."

"Well, you now what I mean," said Sammy. "He might make trouble for us.

I say we'd better be careful."

"That's what I say, too," agreed Frank. "Now the best way, I think, will

be to let our boat drift. We can pretend we are crabbing, but we can

pull up the anchor, and the tide will take us nearly to where he is

digging. He can't say anything, if we do that, for we have a right to

drift."

"Yes, and then we can see if he has a boat," added Sammy. "I guess

that's the best plan. But what about these crabs, Bob? Won't your mother

want them for dinner?"

"No, she's going to make them into a salad for supper. We fellows will

have to cook 'em, and pick 'em out of the shells, I expect. There will

be time enough when we get in. Let's trail this old man now."

Accordingly the small pronged anchor, that held the boat from drifting

while the crabbing was going on, was hauled up, and put in the bow.

Then, while pretending to be busy with their crab lines, the boys let

their craft drift with the tide over toward the shore.

The old man was still digging away, but he had moved his position and

was now deeper in the clump of trees.

"I'm sure he's after pirate gold!" exclaimed Sammy, in a whisper, for he

knew sounds carry very distinctly over water, and he did not want the

digging man to hear him.

"He's after something, right enough," agreed Frank. "What it is we can

find out later."

"There's a boat, anyhow," put in Bob, pointing to one partly hidden

under some brush and seaweed not far from the shore.

"That's right!" cried Sammy. "That shows he came from some other part of

the Cove. We'll follow him!"

But, for the present, the man did not show any sign of being about to

leave the clump of trees. He was digging away, paying no attention to

anything around him, save to glance up now and then. If he saw the boys,

as he must have done, he gave no sign.

Bob and his two chums, now that they were where they wanted to get,

again threw the anchor overboard, and resumed their crabbing. But luck

was not so good here, the boat being too near shore. However, they

wanted an excuse for remaining near the man, and this gave them one.

"Here he comes!" suddenly exclaimed Sammy, as he wound up his crab line

for future use. "Get ready now, boys."

The others looked up. Coming down toward the beach was the strange old

man. Over his shoulder were a pick and a shovel, and in one hand he

carried a square wooden box, with a strap for a handle.

"What do you s'pose he has that for?" asked Frank.

"To put the gold in," said Sammy, promptly, "or else that holds the map,

and directions for finding the treasure."

"The directions can't be very good," spoke Bob, "for he's been digging

in lots of places, far apart, too. I think that gold business is all

bosh!"

"Hush! He'll hear you!" cautioned Frank, for the old man had looked

sharply in the direction of the boys.

"I don't care," spoke Bob. "This is a free country."

The boys had again pulled up anchor, and taken to the oars. They were

pulling out from shore now. The old man went to where the other boat was

partly hidden, and slid it down over the sand to the water. Then,

putting in his tools and the box, he entered the craft himself, and

began to row up toward the head of the Cove.

"Come on!" said Sammy, to his chums. "We've got to follow."

"Do you think we'd better?" asked Frank.

"Sure; why not?" was the answer. "We've got to find out about him;

haven't we?"

To this the others had no objection. They were as interested, now, as

Sammy was in solving the mystery. So, when the old man rowed off, more

quickly than the boys supposed one of his age could do, they followed,

but at a distance.

The day was a fine one, there was only a little wind, and the tide was

with them.

"But it won't be so easy rowing back against the current," said Bob.

"Oh, don't worry," advised Sammy, eager to find where the strange man

lived.

They did not have long to wait. A little later, after turning a point of

land, the man rowed up to a small dock, in front of a small house, and,

tieing his boat there, got out and went up the slope.

"Come on!" called Sammy, a moment later. "Let's go ashore."

"Maybe he won't like it," suggested Frank.

"Oh, he won't care," was the answer. "He's seen us following him, and he

didn't say anything. Come on."

Rather against their will, Frank and Bob followed Sammy. He sent the

boat up on the beach, and threw out the anchor in the sand to hold the

craft against the tide. Then, followed by his chums, he approached the

small cottage.

But if the boys imagined the aged man was going to witness their

approach in silence they were disappointed. He reached his porch, and

putting his pick, shovel and box down there, turned and hurried to meet

Sammy and his chums.

"Did you boys want to see me?" he asked, and his voice was rather stern.

He did not speak like the fishermen of the cove, but more, as Sammy said

afterward, like Mr. Tetlow, the school principal, when he was angry.

"We--we just wanted to see," began Sammy, uncertain whether or not to

tell his suspicions about the pirate gold, and to be allowed a share in

the secret.

"Now look here, boys!" interrupted the aged man, sternly. "I don't want

to be harsh toward you, but you must get away from here. I said nothing

when you followed me, not thinking you would land on my property. This

is private land, and there has been a 'no trespass' sign up, but it has

fallen down. I will put it up again. I want no strangers around here.

"My neighbors around me know this, and do not bother me. It is probably

because you are strangers that you have come here. Now I will not have

it. Later on I may be glad to see you, but now I must ask you to leave!"

He stood looking at the boys sternly. They had been ordered away, and

there was nothing for them to do but to obey.

Fairview Boys at Lighthouse Cove; or, Carried out to Sea · 第 8 / 15 章