The detective made sure that the men had scattered, and that
the search was in full blast, when he doubled on his course
and moved down toward the warehouse. Here again he displayed
his reckless courage. He approached the small building on the
bluff, from the rear, and entered it, and one mystery was
explained--the building was but the cover to the entrance to
an immense underground warehouse.
A lantern was hanging near by, and the detective seized it and
descending the stairs entered a great store-house.
A sight met his gaze which filled him with amazement. His
fortune was made at last; the store-house was filled with
packages of valuable goods; indeed, an immense fortune lay
scattered about.
Later on the detective came to learn more particularly the
methods of the smugglers, but for the present as he stood
there he realized that he was a wondrously lucky man, unless
he should prove unlucky enough to be captured.
While standing in the subterranean store-house an idea entered
his mind and he exclaimed:
"By George, that's just the scheme."
He returned to the upper room and replaced the lantern, and
immediately redescended to the storehouse.
The detective had a masked lantern with him, having secured it
while abiding a few hours at the home of his guide, Taylor.
Spencer Vance had determined to hide himself in the smugglers'
underground warehouse. He had reached the conclusion that he
could find no safer place.
Spencer Vance had struck a big scheme. Even while in such
great peril, and while busy, he was revolving in his mind all
the chances and contingencies; but over all loomed the
possibility of discovery. There was no friendly sea to
receive him should those men find him secreted in their
treasure den.
The detective was like a man walking in a suspected coal mine
with a lighted torch, who at any moment might strike a chamber
filled with the fatal gas, which coming in contact with the
light, would have blown man and mine to smithereens.
Meantime the search continued on the island, and the detective
was rejoiced as he saw that, after all, the discovery of his
presence was a most excellent thing, as it would lead to the
eventual discovery of the real smugglers, through means which
will be described later on.
Vance had measured every step as he progressed, and knew just
where he would fetch out, provided he once got away from the
island; but there, as stated, loomed the chance against him.
His opportunity would depend largely upon the decision of Ike
Denman after the return of his searching parties.
One of the searching parties was moving along looking for a
trail, when a cry from one of their number brought the squad
together. The man had stumbled upon the strapped and gagged
smuggler.
There was a circus for a few moments after the discovery, and
there followed some loud swearing, not low; but deep, fast and
furious.
The man had been gagged so long it was some minutes before he
could relate his sad tale.
One of the men said to him:
"Who served you out, Jim?"
When the man found voice he answered:
"The devil or one of his imps."
"Hello! did you see the ghost?"
"What ghost?"
"The ghost of Ballard."
"I don't know anything about the ghost of Ballard, but I had a
rough scrimmage with the gamest man I ever tackled."
"Didn't you recognize him?"
"No."
"I wonder if there are two of 'em on the island?"
"What's happened, boys?"
"Well, it's looking as though the devil himself were loose
to-night."
The man proceeded and told how another of their crew had met
the island mystery, and had been half drowned by him.
"I tell you," said the man, "it's going to stand us in hand to
get that fellow on; the game is all dead against us, and we'll
whistle for our share of prize-money."
"Come along with us and we may find our man; you can identify
him?"
"Identify the devil! let me see him just one second."
The men, as a fact, failed to discover the island mystery, and
different parties returned and reported to Ike Denman.
When the master of the "Nancy" heard of the laying out of
another of his sentinels, his rage knew no bounds, and calling
his men around him he declared;
"We must find out this fellow. He cannot have left the
island."
One of the men suggested:
"We may never get a sight of him."
"If it is Ballard we can recognize him."
The men were sent away once more, and many of their passive
confederates on the island were aroused and started out on the
search; indeed the island became alive with secretly armed
men.
Ike Denman was satisfied that the detective had not got away,
and he was determined to find him. Hundreds of thousands of
dollars were at stake; the fact that the detective had trailed
down to their rendezvous meant ruin.
The master of the "Nancy" did not for one moment believe in
his own mind that the mystery was, Ballard; his common sense
suggested that it was impossible that the fellow could have
escaped, unless by some strange fatality he had been picked
up, and as there were no vessels near enough to see him at the
time he went over from the yacht, the latter chance did not
seem probable.
It was well toward morning when several of the crew, according
to orders, returned and joined the captain, and the latter
went aboard the "Nancy" and sailed her back to where she had
previously anchored.
One man was left in charge of the yacht, and the balance, with
the captain, rowed ashore and proceeded afoot to the
rendezvous, and at length daylight came.
The search had proved a failure, and when it was well on in
the morning all hands were assembled at the rendezvous.
A majority of the men were sent aboard the "Nancy," while the
master and some of his most reliable confederates remained
ashore.
The men had made a thorough search, and all hands were still
of the opinion that the detective, or whoever it was that had
been tracking them, still remained secreted somewhere on the
island.
One of the men, a shrewd fellow, offered several singular
suggestions. He had accurately measured the tracks of the man
who had laid out two members of the crew, and he had found
duplicate foot imprints down around the rendezvous.
A more dazed and bewildered set of men were never engaged in
an illegal traffic.
Meantime the daring detective was lying low right in their
very midst.