WHAT JOE DID.
Joe raised Santa Barbara and flashed out the news which he wanted
transmitted to the local authorities. In a short time a word of thanks
came back and positive assurance that they would set out without delay
for the Dolliver ranch. Nat and Joe felt somewhat relieved at this. They
knew only too well Ding-dong’s proclivities for getting into trouble,
and if he was off after Minory by himself he had done a peculiarly
fool-hardy thing.
“We’ve done all we can, anyhow,” said Nat, “and now the best thing to
turn our minds to, is that schooner. I think there is not much doubt now
that she is here to do harm to us.”
“All the indications point that way,” agreed Joe.
Twice during the afternoon Nate tramped down to the point to see if the
schooner was still hove to, and both times he returned with the report
that she was still in the same position, although the rain flaws were
blowing over the ocean so thickly that at times it was hard to make her
out.
Not until the evening meal had been despatched was anything said about
laying out the work for the night. It was Nat who broached the subject.
“Joe,” he said, “it has just occurred to me that something may be known
of this schooner in Santa Barbara. Suppose you connect with the operator
there and see if you can get hold of old Captain Merryweather. He’s a
sort of port official and should know if this schooner left there
recently.”
“That’s a good idea,” indorsed Joe; “but in the meanwhile what will you
be doing, for I see that you have some plan in your head?”
“Well, this is the way I’ve figured it out,” said Nat. “If the folks on
that schooner mean to make a landing to-night, depend upon it they’ll
come ashore in the cove.”
“Not a doubt of it,” struck in Nate.
“With the sea that is running, there’s not another place on the island
where they could land. Within the cove, however, is quiet water and an
easy sloping beach to run a boat ashore.”
“Then you think the schooner is still there, Nat?” asked Joe.
“Not a doubt of it in my mind. However, I mean to make sure in a very
short time. Nate, I want you to go down to the point and see what you
can make out of the suspicious craft. I’ll go down to the cove and turn
the skiff over to make a shelter. You can report back to me there. Joe
will remain by the wireless till he gets some reply to his message to
Captain Merryweather. Then he’ll join us there, too, unless something
new and unexpected has turned up by that time.”
Joe would much rather have accompanied Nat, but he said nothing and
turned cheerfully to his duty. Like Ding-dong, he had grown accustomed
to look upon Nat as a leader, and he obeyed unhesitatingly his orders.
Nat and Nate trudged out into the storm and Joe seated himself at the
apparatus to carry out his appointed task.
The operator was able to inform him that the authorities had already set
out for the Dolliver ranch, and that he would keep him posted as to
further developments. Joe then transmitted his message to Captain
Merryweather. This done, he disconnected and sat down to await a reply.
Above him he could hear the wind screaming and screeching through the
aerials and the steady downpour of the rain on the roof. It seemed
hours, and was, in reality, about an hour and a half, before he got a
reply to his message.
“_Captain Merryweather has learned that a small schooner put into Santa
Barbara last night_,” was the dispatch. “_She must have left some time
before dawn. A dockman reports that he saw three strange men being rowed
out to her in a dory a short time before she sailed. That is all he can
find out._”
“Three men; that sounds like old Captain Israel and his two sons,” mused
Joe, as he cut off. “The schooner may either belong to them or to some
of their friends; it’s hard telling, but at any rate Captain
Merryweather’s information sounds important. I’ll hurry down to Nat with
it.”
He extinguished the light and slipped out into the storm. He half ran,
half stumbled to the cove, filled with the importance of his mission.
But somewhat to his alarm, there was no Nat and no Nate there. Joe began
to feel seriously uneasy. It was not like Nat to fail to be at the place
he had appointed for a meeting, more particularly as Joe knew his chum
would be waiting for a reply to the Santa Barbara message with some
anxiety.
However, there was nothing for it but to wait, and Joe, with what
resignation he could muster, sat down in the dark under the shelter of
the dory, while about him the storm raged and howled. Under the upturned
boat he was snug and dry, and if he could have lighted a fire of
driftwood he would have been quite warm. But he knew that was out of the
question. To do such a thing would be to betray at once that they were
on the watch.
Presently there came the sound of hurrying footsteps on the sand. Joe’s
heart gave a quick leap, but the next instant he was reassured. It was
Nat and Nate.
“Where have you been?” asked Joe anxiously. “You gave me a fine scare
when I came down here and found you gone. I thought old Israel must have
kidnapped you again.”
“I’ve been down to the point with Nate,” rejoined Nat. “The schooner has
just got under way. From her tactics we both believe that she is heading
round for the cove.”
“Wow! It looks like trouble then.”
“I’m afraid so. No vessel would lie to in an open roadstead all day and
then run into a sheltered cove at night unless she wished the cover of
darkness for her work, whatever it is.”
“Humph, I haven’t much doubt what that work is,” grunted Nate
laconically.
“Heard from Santa Barbara?” inquired Nat of Joe, as he and Nate joined
him under the boat.
“Yes; that’s what brought me down here. A small schooner answering the
description of the one that lay at anchor all day off the island left
the port last night after taking on three men.”
“Three men; that surely sounds like old Israel and his two precious
sons.”
“That is what I thought. It clinches the matter in my mind.”
“Coupled with the actions of the schooner, I’ve reached the same
conclusion,” said Nat.
“How long will it take the schooner to get around here, do you think?”
asked Joe presently.
“Oh, quite a while yet,” responded Nate. “She’s got to beat up against
the wind and take several tacks to make it.”
“To my mind that fact again puts this up to Harley,” said Nat. “He knows
this island like a book, Nate says, and could get into the cove at any
hour of the day or night. A stranger would never take a chance on
running in in the dark.”
“Particularly on a night like this,” said Joe, as a long, shuddering
blast of wind swept over the upturned boat.
Nat crept out from the shelter and made his way toward the cove. He was
back in a short time with information that thrilled them all.
“The schooner is coming into the cove,” he announced in a tense voice.
“Now the show is a-goin’ to begin to commence,” muttered Nate under his
breath. “Better get that gun of yours, Nat. Joe and I will do the best
we can with our fists and oars in case there’s a scrimmage.”