DEEDS OF DARKNESS
As yet, neither the soldiers nor the revenue men had appeared on the
scene. In spite of his shrewd guess, Norton began to believe that
the smugglers, having come to the conclusion that their bonfire was
not necessary, after all---because they fondly imagined the _Petrel_
was far away down the coast---would waste no more time trying to
attract the cutter to that spot, but would proceed boldly, under
cover of darkness, to run their goods from the cabins to the _Esperanza_.
Such seemed to be Bego's decision, also; for as Roy, Billy, and
Alec drew nearer, they heard the swarthy leader directing most
of his men to "shoulder arms and march over to Durgan's headquarters."
Presently the group near the bonfire was diminished by the departure
of eight or nine men, who picked their way gingerly over the uneven
ground, muttering directions to one another as they went Billy could
hardly restrain his impulse to follow them.
At one time they passed so close to the ambushed pickets that the
latter could distinguish the words "after midnight" and "set the
boy loose."
"They're talking about Hugh," said Billy to himself, and his heart
beat fast with excitement. The words gave him assurance that his
chum was alive, which was some comfort.
"I think I'll just have to follow them," he mused a few moments
later; and telling Norton and Alec that he would be back very soon,
he slipped away, trailing Bego's men, before Norton could prevent
him from going.
It would have been better for Billy had he remained in hiding; but he
was eager to know how Durgan and his confederates would manage to run
their cargo on board the _Esperanza_, having no motor boat to use;
and he was even more eager to find out what had become of Hugh.
Without stopping longer, therefore, in the neighborhood of the
bonfire, he hurried away toward the spot at which he had heard the
men propose to run the cargo.
He must have crept onward for ten minutes or so, when he head a
pistol fired.
The shot was followed by two or three others in quick succession.
This made him more than ever eager to find out what was happening.
He doubled his speed. Fortunately, by mere chance, he had stumbled
upon the very stretch of ground which he and Dave had traversed
earlier in the day; the trail was fairly good, and he knew just how
to proceed.
All this while he had not seen a single person, and he had not been
seen by any of the smugglers.
After a few minutes he heard more shots sounding much nearer, then
shouts and hoarse yells, mingled with the sharp staccato of pistols
and rifles. He felt sure that by this time the soldiers under
Lieutenant Driscoll had come up and were having a lively fight with
the outlaws, the latter trying to defend their property, and the
former to confiscate it.
At any moment he expected to find that the men whom he was following
were returning to the beach to join their comrades; but evidently
they had received strict orders to go straight to the cabins, for
they went on, and he followed them. Now he availed himself of all
the knowledge of stalking and trailing which he had gained in
scoutcraft games at Pioneer Camp.
Which party, the soldiers or the smugglers, would succeed in their
object seemed doubtful. The darkness was intense, and though Billy
pictured the whole scene, as yet he could not see anything except an
occasional spurt of flame as a revolver or rifle spat viciously.
Even the forms of the men he was following had disappeared from view.
This did not discourage him, for he was used to following a trail in
the dark.
Still he stumbled onward, forgetting that bullets flying about were
no respecters of persons.
At last he reached the top of a low mound whence he could see dimly
a number of dark figures scurrying hither and thither. From their
actions and from the babel of shouts, commands, oaths and shooting
that came from the little clearing around the huts, he judged that
they were engaged in a determined struggle.
That the soldiers were having the best of it, he had no doubt. It
appeared to him that they had captured not only part of the intended
cargo but also some of Bego's men; while others, bolder villains,
seemed to be trying to rescue their comrades.
In his rejoicing over this turn of affairs, he gave a yell of
triumph---and just at that moment a bullet whizzed over his shoulder,
almost searing his neck! The yell quavered on his lips, and he
dropped down on his knees, which were trembling and knocking together.
"Whew! that came pretty close to yours truly!" said Billy, speaking
aloud as if he expected some one to hear him. "That's what might be
called being 'under fire,' and I don't like the sensation---not by a
long shot!"
Even in moments of danger or of distress, Billy managed to see the
funny side of circumstances. He grinned now at his little joke, but
all the while he was intently scanning the scene before him and
wondering if he would be drawn into taking part in it. Also, he was
anxious to know where his friends were at that moment. Would they
join in the fray?
Suddenly his eager gaze was shifted to a new quarter. He stared,
wide-eyed and breathless.
Out of the night, running like mad along the shore and across the
acres of sand and clay and mud, came a body of men armed with rifles.
They were making directly toward the scene of conflict as fast as
they could find their difficult way.
"Who are they? Where have they come from?" Billy wondered.
And then, like a flash, he understood. "Oh!" he gasped. "Oh, I know,
I know now! They're the men from the _Petrel_! Marines, I
guess---if that's what you call 'em."
It was true; the new arrivals were the Revenue Service men, and as
it chanced, they had come just in the nick of time. For Joe Durgan,
Branks, Harry Mole, Max, the villainous half-breed, and others at the
huts, were being reinforced by Bego's followers who had hurried up
from the bonfire; and they were beating back the soldiers, whom they
now outnumbered.
Suddenly Billy heard another yell, a wild, eerie, shrill call, and
Dave, leading Norton and the Boy Scouts, sprang from their boat
which had crept up to the farther side of the clearing, and dashed
forward to meet the crew of the _Petrel_.
Recognizing them even in the darkness---which now began to be relieved
by stray gleams of moonlight struggling out of the clouds---the
revenue men turned to the left under Dave's guidance, and took a
short-cut, coming up in the rear of the battle.
Alone on the little mound, Billy realized that he was separated from
his reunited scout friends and their allies by a small mob of
desperately fighting men. He was cut off from the rest by reason
of Dave's having steered the boat along a watercourse of which he,
Billy, knew nothing; in fact, he had lost his bearings and knew not
in which direction the improvised camp lay.
However, the conflict before him absorbed his thoughts and left him
no time to worry about his own predicament. He was still wondering
how the revenue men had happened to arrive at a critical time.
The explanation was as follows:
Unknown to Billy or to any of his friends, the _Petrel_ had steamed
full speed to Palmetto Key; and Captain Vinton, sighting the cutter
from the deck of the concealed _Arrow_, had signaled to her captain,
telling him just where to land his men. This accounted for their
unexpected arrival, which soon turned the tide of battle in their
favor.
Creeping forward, Billy saw the smugglers fleeing in all directions,
after setting fire to the two smaller cabins. As they ran, they
exchanged shots with the soldiers and the revenue men; but, owing
to the gloom, these shots failed to take much effect, beyond slightly
wounding their captors. Fired on in turn, they ran toward the beach,
past their smouldering bonfire, near which their boat was drawn up
on the sands waiting to take them back to the _Esperanza_.
The light of the blazing huts now illumined the scene, and in the
glow, Norton caught sight of Billy running toward them. He hailed
the lad with a shout:
"Hi! Hurry up, Billy! Where have you been all this time?"
"Watching the fight!" shouted Billy, whose voice sounded doleful.
"Wishing I could butt into it earlier! Come on, come on! We're
chasing 'em!"
"Hold on!" Norton exclaimed loudly. "We've had about enough of this.
Here we'll stay, my boy, and let our better-armed friends capture
the gang. When they get to their boat it will be a case of 'first
come, first served' to get away. Most of them'll be caught and
captured. Meanwhile, it's up to us to find Hugh. He must be in
that largest shanty there, unless-----"
"Come on!" yelled Billy, seeing his brother scouts already commencing
the search.
He dashed over to the remaining shanty and flung himself against
the door.
"Hugh, Hugh!" he called. "Are you in there?"
No answer---only the roaring and crackling of the flames as they
devoured the old walls and crumbling roof of the nearby abandoned
dwellings.
"Hugh!" shouted Alec and Chester, banging on the door, while Mark
ran around the cabin, looking in vain for a window or other means
of entrance.
The door gave way and the three scouts rushed in, followed by Norton.
Dave stood in the doorway, his lanky form with the red glare of the
fire behind it casting a grotesque shadow on the interior wall of
the cabin. He remained there on guard, lest any of the smugglers
should return.
Alec struck a match. Its sputtering flame lighted the single room,
dispelling the shadows for a brief moment. Anxiously they all
peered around the dingy shanty.
"Hugh, where are you?" said Billy in a hoarse whisper. "Are you
here? Can't you speak?"
Still no answer.
Then Alec's match went out.
"Have you another match?" asked Norton.
Like Billy's, his voice was husky. A vague dread seemed to seize
him, weighing down upon him like a tangible thing.
"Yes," said Alec. "Here's one more---the last."
Again he struck a light and a hasty search was made. Every moment
was precious.
In vain. The cabin was empty.