FAILURE
"Boys, if you could only get moving pictures of the capture of the
wreckers!"
Thus exclaimed Mr. Ringold when his two young employees told of the
plans afoot and asked to be excused from work a little longer.
"It would be great," admitted Joe.
"But we'd need a powerful light," said Blake, "and if we had that it
would warn the men we're after."
"That's so," spoke the theatrical man. "I guess it's out of the
question. But you have done such wonderful work so far, that I'd like
you to keep it up. A film of the capture of wreckers would make an
audience sit up and take notice."
"I guess I'll have to invent some sort of a light that would make it
possible," put in Mr. Hadley; "but I'm afraid I can't have it ready
to-night."
"Then you don't mind if we go?" asked Blake.
"No, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Ringold, "and I wish you all success."
"It's going to be a dark night," remarked Blake, a little later, as he
and Joe were on their way to the lighthouse. It was early evening, but
the sky was clouding over and a wind was coming up that sent the big
billows bounding up on the sand with a booming noise like the discharge
of distant cannon.
"Yes, we'll have to sort of feel our way along," said Joe. "But I guess
we can find the place, all right."
"I hope so. But I wonder if the men will come back after the alarm we
gave 'em?"
"That's hard to tell, Blake. And yet they might; for, though they saw
us, they may think we were only a couple of lads out for a stroll, who
accidentally stumbled on their hiding place. In that case they wouldn't
think we'd give any alarm, and they'd go on with their plans."
"That's so. Well, we'll see what happens. I hope there aren't too many
of them, so that our men can handle them."
"That Tom Cardiff can get away with a couple on his own account, and
with the life saver, and the secret service men, not to mention
ourselves, Blake, I guess we'll make out all right."
"I reckon you and I together, Joe, can account for at least one," and
Blake looked quizzically at his chum.
"I feel almost as if I could handle one alone, when I think of how they
got my father into trouble," replied the other. "I'm going to give a
good account of myself, if I get the chance."
"Same here. Well, there's the lighthouse just ahead, and two or three
men waiting for us. I guess they're the ones we are to go with."
This proved to be the case, and a little later the boys were repeating
to the life saver, and two secret service men, such parts of their story
as Mr. Stanton and Tom Cardiff had omitted or forgotten.
"Well, if we're all ready, we may as well start," proposed Sam Wilton,
one of the government agents. The other was Jerry Boundley, while the
name of the life saver was Frank Hale.
"Yes, it's quite a tramp," said Tom Cardiff, "and the wreckers may be
there now. Several small trading vessels are expected up the coast this
week, and some may be due to-night. Though seeing that a storm is coming
up, they may keep so far out from shore that they won't see the false
lights, in case the wreckers try to work them.
"This is about as wicked a piece of work as could well be done, trying
to wreck vessels this way. A sailor has to depend absolutely on the
lights, under certain conditions, and if they're wrong, it's like
leading a blind man into danger. So let's get after 'em and stop their
work!"
The men well knew the way nearly to the place where the boys had
discovered the wreckers at work, and so they would not have to rely on
Joe and Blake to guide them until they were almost there.
"When you see that you are close to the place," said Tom Cardiff, "you
boys go ahead, and we'll trail along after you. And keep mighty quiet,
too. If we can catch these fellows actually in the act of showing a
false light, so much better for the chances of convicting them."
They went on in the darkness. Back of them, as they mounted the hill
which ended in the high cliff, could be seen the flashing light tended
by aged Mr. Stanton.
"He's right on the job," remarked Tom Cardiff. "Even if he's an old man
he'll stay up all night to attend to that light, to see that it's
trimmed properly, that the machinery is working, that there's oil in the
reservoir, and that the lenses are clean. That light is just like a son
or daughter to him. He can't bear to have anything happen to it and the
very idea of any scoundrels trying to wreck vessels by means of a false
beacon riles him up considerable."
"I should think it would," agreed Mr. Wilton. "Well, if we can catch
these fellows we'll put 'em where they can't do any more harm. And I
hope we'll get back in time, so Mr. Stanton won't have to stay up all
night."
"I hope so, too," put in Tom Cardiff. "He isn't equal to the task."
"We're getting close to the place now," said Blake, in a low voice a
little later.
"Then you boys come up here," ordered Tom Cardiff, who, in a measure,
was a sort of leader. "And everybody keep quiet. Don't talk, except in
whispers, and make as little noise as you can."
Cautiously they advanced, the boys in the lead. The lads recognized,
even in the darkness, some of the larger landmarks they had passed in
their flight that afternoon.
"Hold on a minute, and listen," suggested the life saver. "Maybe we can
hear them talking."
They paused, but the only sound that came was the booming of the surf on
the rocks below.
"Can you see anything of a light?" asked Mr. Boundley.
"Not a thing," replied Joe, glancing all about him.
"Look up," directed Tom Cardiff. "That's the best way to locate a light
that you can't see directly. You may catch its reflection on the night
mist."
But the night was black all around them. Not a gleam could they make
out. Once more they advanced until Joe and Blake recognized the place
where they had been hiding, and whence they had looked into the open
place where the wreckers had been putting up their false light.
"It's here!" whispered Blake.
"Just ahead there," added Joe.
"Get ready, men!" exclaimed Tom Cardiff, in a tense whisper. "We'll rush
'em before they know it--if they're here."
Stout clubs had been brought along in anticipation of a hand-to-hand
struggle, it being decided that these weapons were best, safest and most
effective at close quarters.
"All ready?" asked the leader.
"Yes--yes!" came the answers.
Blake leaned forward, cautiously parted the bushes and looked toward the
open space. He had heard nothing, and seen nothing, and yet he knew that
the men might be hidden about, and that the lantern might not yet be
lighted.
"Come on!" cried Tom Cardiff, and together they leaped from their place
of concealment.
There was a moment of silence, and then a disappointed exclamation burst
from the lips of the assistant lighthouse keeper.
"They're not here!" he declared. That was evident, for there had been
no response as the searchers burst out.
"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Mr. Wilton, turning to the boys.
"Positive," answered Joe.
"Here's the pile of rocks on which the lantern was set," added Blake.
"But there's no lantern here now," said Tom Cardiff.
"Then they've skipped!" declared the life saver. "They got suspicious
and left, taking the lantern with 'em!"