Read Ebook: The G-man's son at Porpoise Island by Robinson Warren F

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Ebook has 1076 lines and 44989 words, and 22 pages

"This calls for a council and some thinking, John," Stan said. "Come on below with me."

"Here's the situation as I see it," Stan said, speaking in a low voice. "This afternoon we saw a speedy motorboat of low, fast design, painted an inconspicuous gray and fitted with an almost silent exhaust, which disappeared round the snout of this island. Now we've come into Black Cove, a rarely visited spot, and find ourselves in the midst of symptoms of trouble--a fast, almost silent motorboat which comes in at night, blinking signals in answer to shore lights. Is this or is it not a dangerous spot? Are these innocent happenings, or should we get out of here and pronto?"

John considered the problem for a minute, for he knew Stan was in dead seriousness, and besides, he himself was creepy and scared.

"It's a cinch we'd have trouble finding the channel, as I said a few minutes ago on deck, John."

"--And maybe daybreak will show us up as a couple of scatterbrained kids. Sweet spirits of the briny deep--why should anyone hurt us? We're only bent on pleasure!"

Stan grinned wryly.

"Sure we're only pleasure bent, but--what about our detective stuff, and just supposing that whoever is here is up to something evil and recognizes us as the two kids who got their pictures in the papers over the Hogan case?"

"You're right, Stan. What'll we do?"

"My idea is this, John. Let's up anchor and move over under sail to the far side of this cove away from the lights we saw and stay there to-night. We'll keep quiet, keep turns watching, and, unless some one starts something, we'll let well enough alone till dawn."

"I'd sure like to have my bow and arrows on watch, Stan! Remember how they worked against Hogan that night he tried to snoop around at the float-stage back in Centerport?"

They both grinned with delight at the remembrance of the snooper who dashed off in his boat, stung in the pants' seat by a well aimed arrow! Stan nodded agreement to John's suggestion of a defensive weapon, and they prepared to up anchor and cross the cove.

On deck they took their positions, Stan at the wheel and the main sheet, John at the jib and staysail sheets, and the anchor cables. Quietly Stan gave the command, and John hove in on the anchor. Slowly the dripping cable came inboard foot by foot, and was coiled on deck as the youth hauled at it, then it tightened as the anchor took up the slack. He heaved hard--but the anchor did not budge.

Again John tugged. The anchor refused to give way.

Nervous, John came aft and informed Stan of the situation.

"Try again, John," Stan suggested. "Keep trying. We don't want to lose that anchor. It ought to break out o.k. from a loam floor."

Close to the bank the anchor was again dropped overboard and the cable slacked off. With flapping sails, the sloop drifted off till the slack was taken up, then swung to the wind, at anchor. John said nothing about his discovery in the bows until the sails had been lowered and furled for the night, the strops tightened about the canvas, and the sheets belayed with plenty of slack in case of rain. The sky was clear and the stars glittered overhead, but a good seaman always leaves his running rigging slack at night, for rain would promptly tighten it and stretch the rope dangerously. All being snug now, the boys brought their bows and arrows up on deck, stowed them ready for instant use, placed a focusing flashlight handy, and held council in the cabin again. It was then that John Tallman went upon deck to return with something which he now handed to his friend.

"A brass fitting!" cried Stan, staring. "Where did you get it?"

"The anchor snagged on something in the cove, Stan, probably a sunken wreck, and I brought up this! Piece of brass trimming, isn't it? Might be from a yacht?"

"It's expensive, whatever it belongs to, John. Fancy trimmings at sea don't appear on commercial ships. Yacht is the best guess! Wonder What a yacht is doing sunk in Black Cove?"

"Maybe that other thing we struck in the bay was part of a ship, Stan, too!"

"I doubt it, John. Probably just a half-submerged log. But this brass is definitely from a wreck, I figure."

"Listen--What's that?"

Voices and subdued noises took the boys to the deck at once, where they carefully shut the cabin slide to keep the light from showing while they peered across the water of the cove. There in the darkness a low boat of some kind appeared to have anchored, and men were moving about on it, for their footsteps on deck could be heard, and there were occasional flickerings of light as if a lantern were in use.

"Thank goodness for one thing, Stan, I don't think we've been discovered, yet; do you?"

"No. What's going on over there?"

"Shades of the Caspian Sea and blessings on thee little man, I wish I knew! Hear that low, throbbing sound, like a pump working?"

"Probably a salvaging job; but why at night, John?"

"Dear me, Oswald, old bean!" laughed John, "Why ask me? Your guess is as good as mine."

The noises of whatever operation was under way continued for hours, and Stan went down to his bunk to sleep while John stood first watch. A low whistle was to be the signal for the G-man's son to hurry to the deck should any attack or disturbance occur.

For a long while John sat huddled in the corner of the cockpit, thankful for the sweater he had slipped on, for summer was well advanced and the night cool. His bow and arrows were handy, and he watched what little could be seen of the strange things taking place across the water. He could be sure of nothing, and towards the latter part of his watch gave up guessing. Probably the men were salvaging the sunken ship if such the cove contained. Overhead the bright stars twinkled, and alongshore in the darkness the leaves switched in the breeze. John Tallman was not sorry when his radium-dialed watch showed midnight.

"I say, a cup of coffee and a doughnut, Stan!" John said, rubbing his eyes, and then his stomach. "Cockpits and maintops, but I'm hungry."

They made coffee and munched doughnuts but said little about the strange surroundings. Stan went on deck then and, in his turn, listened to the sounds of work upon the surface of the cove. He came no nearer to a solution of the problem than had John, and went back to bed at four.

The dimly outlined boat moved off before dawn, and the slowly brightening sky of morning disclosed only a cool, deserted cove. The surrounding hills showed only trees, green and thick, right down to the water's edge and, in most places, overlapping the water with widespread branches.

At breakfast, as the sun came over the eastern hill, the boys gave each other questioning looks.

"If I was not so sleepy, I'd swear I'd been asleep and dreamed the whole thing, Stan," John said, yawning and looking longingly at his bunk. "Whatever and whoever was at the center of this cove last night is gone, now."

"Get some sleep, John, and then we'll put up our sails and find the entrance. I'm quite sure it's just round that hill over there."

"Righto, Skipper!"

And the rangy lad hit the bunk with a sigh of relief.

Stan worked about on deck, washing the sloop down, and glancing around from time to time with interest in the hopes of spotting life along the opposite shore.

He was thus engaged when curiosity got the better of him. He could never, he decided, sail out of Black Cove without an explanation of what he and John had seen and heard. He woke his chum about eight o'clock and suggested that they swim ashore and look Porpoise Island over.

At first John was reluctant, but he too was curious, and besides, the warm sunlight had robbed the pretty cove of its atmosphere of danger. They might be a couple of young fools, for all they knew, but they meant to find out. With the two boys, to come to a decision was to go into action, and they stripped, slipped into bathing togs, and went over-side at once. Quickly and with ease, for they were both fair swimmers, they covered the few yards of water, swimming in under the branches of the trees to the rich loamy shore, onto which they climbed.

Hearts thumping a little, they pushed through some bushes looking for a path. John was the first to cry out, being in the lead. Sure enough, there was a path! A little-used passage through the bushes and trees, it led them winding uphill, and they followed it silently with their bare feet making no sounds. At home in the woods as well as upon the water, the two boys moved onward, alert for anything!

But nothing happened, at least for a period of twenty minutes, during which time they passed several bypaths and went along seeing the glitter of the cove as they circled it. All of a sudden they came out of that path, through the bushes right smack into a clearing in which stood a trim cottage built of rustic materials. A well built dwelling, it gave hints of wealth, for it was furnished with modern windows and the latest type of weather-resisting roofing. A bright, new pump stood at a well near the door, and everything spoke of good upkeep. While the boys stood pop-eyed with wonder they saw no sign of life.

Then a soft voice broke the silence of enchantment.

"Well?" came the query.

Startled, they turned about to find, standing right behind them, a peculiar old man! The peculiar thing about him was the leathery skin of his face and the paleness of his gray eyes. It was a kindly appearing face but not one you would have liked. Something in the set of the smile and the paleness of those eyes would have warned you to be on the alert for--unsuspected danger!

"Well?" repeated the man, still smiling.

Stan and John knew that they were trespassing, and that made them feel guilty. Added to that was the odd feeling of danger. They exchanged glances of appraisal with the old fellow; then Stan spoke.

"That's a peach of a cabin you have, Mister!"

The man's face muscles, which had given an air of tenseness to his smile, now relaxed, and he said, "I'm glad you like it. I like it myself!"

A look of surprise crossed the man's tanned features. His smile disappeared for a moment.

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