"Well, they got rid of it, all right," said Bob, "for to-night, anyhow, as well as for some time come."

They proceeded in gloomy silence for the most part, although the voice of Old Davey, an incorrigible conversationalist, floated back to them from where he led the way with Tom Barnum. Where their courses diverged, the pair waited for them to call "Good nights."

"I say," said Jack suddenly, to his companions as Tom and Old Davey departed; "I have an idea. Let's go over to the radio station, just for luck, and listen in on the ether to see whether we can pick up the interference on the 1,375-meter wave length. Maybe, we can get some of those dots and dashes, too, of which Captain Folsom spoke. It's only a step or two out of our way."

Bob yawned sleepily but stumbled ahead for the station, without a word, and Frank fell in with him. Jack called to Tom Barnum and ran ahead, leaving Captain Folsom to proceed with his chums.

When the others arrived, the door of the station's transmitting room stood open, the lights were turned on, and Jack already was seated at the instrument table, a headpiece clamping the receivers to his ears while he manipulated the tuner.

Bob slumped down on the outside step, and Frank took a seat beside him, with an arm flung over his shoulders. The damage to their airplane was felt keenly by both. Captain Folsom, with a pitying glance at them, entered the station.

"Put on that headpiece," said Jack, motioning.

The other complied.

"By George," he cried, a moment later.



CHAPTER X

A NIGHT EXPEDITION

For several minutes Jack and Captain Folsom listened with strained attention while through the receivers came to their ears a series of dots and dashes which to one corresponded exactly with the similar sounds picked up by the prohibition enforcement officials on other occasions, and which to the other were meaningless and, therefore, significant.

That statement is not difficult to explain. Jack was familiar with the Morse and Continental codes. What he heard in the receivers represented neither. Therefore, either the station he had picked up and was listening-in on was sending in some mysterious code or, as was more likely, it was radiating control. And, all things considered, the latter was the more likely supposition.

Meanwhile, Bob and Frank, unaware of what was forward, sat disconsolately on the stoop outside in the warm night air, glooming over the damage to their airplane.

Finally Captain Folsom took off the headpiece and, seeing that Jack had done likewise, turned to him with an air of exasperation.

"This is maddening," he declared to Jack. "Evidently, if I know anything about it, the smugglers are landing liquor somewhere along the coast by means of a radio-controlled boat or boats."

Jack was thoughtful.

"Do you know what I think?" he asked. "I believe they are landing the liquor somewhere near us. For one thing, the sounds in the receivers are very clear and distinct. That, however, does not portend a great deal. The night is exceptionally good for sending, clear and with practically no static. But there is another thing to be considered, and it's that I have in mind."

"What do you mean?" asked Captain Folsom.

"I am thinking of the attempt to destroy the airplane, and the probable reason for it."

"Hm."

"You see," continued Jack, "if the smugglers planned to operate to-night, and were made fearful by recent events that we either had learned anything about them or suspected them, they might decide it would be unwise to have us at large, so to speak. Suppose we were to swoop down on them in our airplane, they might think, what then? This man Higginbotham, now. He might not have been deceived by our explanation of how we came to be on hand when he was flying in his radio-controlled plane and fell into the water. Besides, and this is the biggest point of all, we had appeared at his office to try and find out who had bought the Brownell property. Oh, the more I consider it, the more I realize that he could not help but suspect that we were on the track of the liquor smugglers."

Captain Folsom nodded.

"Sound sense, all of it," he declared; "especially, your deduction that they are landing liquor near us. Look here," he added, with sudden resolution; "where does that man, Tom Barnum, sleep?"

"He has quarters opening from the power house here," said Jack, in a tone of surprise. "Why, may I ask?"

"Well, I think so well of your supposition that I want to do a bit of investigating. Barnum looks like a stout, reliant man. Besides, he knows the neighborhood. I'll ask him to accompany me."

Jack's eyes glittered.

"What's the matter with us?" he demanded.

"Oh, I couldn't think of drawing you boys into this. It might involve some little danger."

"Well," said Jack, "danger would be nothing new to us. If you do not actually forbid our accompanying you, we'll go along. I'm keen to go. And I can say the same for Bob and Frank without questioning them. Besides, you must remember it was their airplane which these rascals damaged. They'll be eager for a chance to even scores."

Captain Folsom still looked dubious.

"You are unarmed," he objected. "And we might, just might, you know, stumble into a situation where we would need to protect ourselves."

"Oh, if that's all that stands in your way," said Jack, rising, "you need not worry. Tom Barnum keeps a whole armory of weapons here. He has at least a half dozen pistols and automatics. As for us, we are all pretty fair shots and used to handling weapons. Now, look here, Captain Folsom," he said, pleadingly, advancing and laying a hand on the other's arm; "I know what you are saying to yourself. You are saying how foolish it would be for you to encumber yourself with three harum-scarum boys. But that is where you make a mistake. We have been through a lot of dangerous situations, all three of us and, I can tell you, we have been forced to learn to keep our wits about us. I can promise you that we would not be a hindrance."

Captain Folsom's face cleared.

"Good," said he, heartily; "spoken like a man. I'll be only too glad to have you fellows."

"We'll take Tom Barnum, too," said Jack. "He can be relied on in any crisis. Wait here until I stir him up and tell the boys."

Leaving the other, Jack went outside and apprised his chums of the new plan. It was just the thing they needed to rouse them from the despondency into which contemplation of the damage to their airplane had thrown them. Then he went to Tom Barnum's quarters. Tom had not yet returned to sleep. He was eager to join in the adventure. Bringing three or four pistols, Jack and Tom quickly rejoined the party.

"What is your idea, Captain Folsom?" Jack inquired, when all were ready to depart and everything had been made tight about the station.

"First of all, how far is it to Starfish Cove?"

"Between two and three miles," answered Bob. "But the tide is out, and we shall have good going on the hard sand, and ought to make it under forced draught in a half hour or a little more."

"Is there any other place where small boats might land conveniently, any other place reasonably near?"

The boys and Tom Barnum shook their heads.

"That's far and away the best place," said Jack.

"Well, then, I propose that we make our way close to the Cove, and then take to the cover of the trees, which you have given me to understand, come down there close to the water."

"They fringe the beach," Bob explained.

"Good. With reasonable care we ought to be able to make our way undiscovered close enough to see what is going on, supposing a landing such as I have in mind is taking place."

"There's armed guards on the Brownell place nowadays," interjected Tom Barnum, to whom Jack had given a brief explanation of things. "Maybe, them fellers have sentries posted."

"Well, we'll have to exercise caution when we get close to the Cove," said Captain Folsom. "And now, if we are all ready, let us start. Every second's delay is so much time lost. They'll be working fast. If we are to gain any information, we must hasten about it."

"Righto," said Bob, striding off. "And just let me get my hands on the sneak that tried to burn the airplane," he added, vindictively. "I'll give that gentleman a remembrance or two of the occasion."

The others fell in, and with long strides started making their way along the sand left hard-packed by the receding tide, under the moonlight.

Bob set a terrific pace but, fortunately, all members of the party were young men and accustomed to physical exercise, and none found it any hardship to keep up with their pacemaker. On the contrary, three at least enjoyed the expedition and found their spirits uplifted by the zest of this unexpected adventure undertaken at 2 o'clock in the morning.

When they drew near the first of the two horns enclosing the little bay known as Starfish Cove, Bob pulled up, and the others came to a halt around him.

"Just ahead there," said Bob, pointing, and addressing Captain Folsom, "lies our destination. I expect it would not be wise to make our way any farther along the sands."

Captain Folsom nodded.

"Right. We'll take to those trees up yonder. I'll go first with Jack." Unconsciously, he had taken to addressing the boys by their given names. "Do you others keep close behind."

In this order they started making their way through the grove, just inside the outer belt of trees. The moonlight was bright on the water and the sands, and illuminated the aisles of the grove in fairylike fashion.

"Keep low and take advantage of cover," whispered Captain Folsom, as he saw how the matter stood. And crouching and darting from tree to tree, they worked their way forward until a low exclamation from Jack halted his companion who was a bit behind him. The others came up.

"Fence," whispered Jack, succinctly.

Sure enough. There it was, just ahead, a high wire fence, the strands barbed and strung taut on steel poles.

"We can't see the Cove yet from here," whispered Jack. "Our first glimpse of it won't come until we move forward a bit farther. We'll either have to try to climb over this or go out on the beach to get around it. It doesn't go down to the water, does it, Bob?"

"No, and I didn't see it when I was here several days ago," Bob replied in a low voice. "I suppose it must have been here then, but I didn't see it. There was no fence on the beach, and I was following the water's edge."

"There's a big tree close to it," said Frank, pointing. "And, look. There's a limb projects over the fence. We might shin up the tree and out on that limb and drop."

"I'm afraid I couldn't do it," said Captain Folsom, simply. "This arm——"

"Oh, I forgot," said the sensitive Frank, with quick compunction, silently reproaching himself for thus reminding the other of his loss.

"I'm not sensitive," said Captain Folsom, and added grimly: "Besides, the German that took it, paid with his life."

There was an awkward silence.

"Anyhow," said Jack, breaking it, "it would be ticklish work for any of us to get over that fence by climbing the tree. The fence is a good ten feet high, and the strands of barbed wire curve forward at the top. That limb, besides, is twelve feet or more from the ground, and not very strong, either. It looks as if we would have to make our way around the fence and out on the beach."

"Let's go, then," said Bob, impatiently. "Now that I'm here I want a look at Starfish Cove. I have one of Frank's hunches that there is something doing there."

He started moving forward toward the edge of the grove, which here was out of sight, being some distance away, as Jack had led the way well within the shelter of the trees because of the radiance cast by the moon.

"Wait, Bob, wait," whispered Frank, suddenly, in a tense voice, and he restrained his companion. "I heard something."

All crouched down, listening with strained attention.

In a moment the sound of voices engaged in low conversation came to their ears, and a moment later two forms appeared on the opposite side of the fence, moving in their direction.



CHAPTER XI

PRISONERS

"I heard a fellow shouting and beat it, or I'd'a done a better job. Anyhow, that's one plane won't be able to fly for a while."

One of the two men dropped this remark as the pair, engrossed in conversation, passed abreast of the party on the outside of the boundary fence and not ten feet from them. The speaker was a short, broad, powerfully built man in appearance, and he spoke in a harsh voice and with a twang that marked him as a ruffian of the city slums. He wore a cap, pulled so low over his features as to make them indistinguishable. And he walked with a peg leg!

The moonlight was full on the face of the other, and the boys recognized him as Higginbotham. There was an angry growl from Bob, farthest along the line toward the beach, which he quickly smothered. Apparently, it did not attract attention, for Higginbotham and his companion continued on their way oblivious to the proximity of the others.

"The young hounds," said Higginbotham, in his cultivated, rather high voice. And he spoke with some heat. "This will teach them a lesson not to go prying into other people's business."

The other man made some reply, but it was indistinguishable to those in hiding, and the precious pair proceeded on their way, now out of earshot. But enough had been overheard. It was plain now, if it had not been before, where lay the guilt for the attempt to destroy the airplane. Plain, too, was the fact that Higginbotham was engaged in some nefarious enterprise.

For several seconds longer, after Higginbotham and his companion had gotten beyond earshot and were lost to view among the trees, Jack remained quiet but inwardly a-boil. Then he turned to Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum, crouching beside him.

"What an outrage," he whispered, indignantly. "Poor Bob and Frank. To have their airplane damaged just because that scoundrel thought we were prying into his dirty secrets. I wish I had my hands on him."

Suddenly his tone took on a note of alarm.

"Why, where are Bob and Frank?" he demanded. "They were here a moment ago."

He stared about him in bewilderment. The others did likewise. But the two mentioned could not be seen. With an exclamation, Jack rose to his feet.

"Come on," he urged. "I'll bet Bob decided to go for the fellow who burned his plane and take it out of his hide. When that boy gets angry, he wants action."

He started striding hastily down toward the beach, alongside the wire fencing. The others pressed at his heels. Presently, they caught the glint of water through the trees, and then, some distance ahead, caught sight of two figures moving out from the grove onto the sands on the opposite side of the fence. Jack increased his pace, but even as he did so two other figures stole from the woods on the heels of the first pair.

Involuntarily, Jack cried out. The second pair leaped upon the backs of the first and bore them to the ground. The next moment, the air was filled with curses, and the four figures rolled on the sands.

"Come on, fellows," cried Jack, breaking into a run, and dashed ahead.

He broke from the trees and discovered the boundary fence came to an abrupt end at the edge of the grove. It was here Bob and Frank, he felt sure, had made their way and leaped on Higginbotham and the thug. For so he interpreted what he had seen.

As he came up the fight ended. It had been bitter but short. Frank was astride Higginbotham and pressing his opponent's face into the sand to smother his outcries. Bob had wrapped his arms and legs about the city ruffian and the latter, whose curses had split the air, lay face uppermost, his features showing contorted in the moonlight. Bob knelt upon him. As Jack ran up, he was saying:

"You want to be careful whose airplane you burn."

An exclamation from Captain Folsom drew Jack's attention from the figures in the immediate foreground, and raising his eyes he gazed in the direction in which the other was pointing. Some fifty yards away, on the edge of Starfish Cove, a half dozen objects of strange shape and design were drawn up on the sand. They were long, shaped somewhat like torpedoes and gleamed wet in the moonlight.

Not a soul was in sight. The moonlit stretch of beach was empty except for them.

"What in the world can those be?" asked Captain Folsom.

"They are made of metal," said Jack. "See how the moonlight gleams upon them. By George, Captain, they are big as whales. Can they be some type of torpedo-shaped boat controlled by radio?"

"This is luck," exclaimed Captain Folsom. "That's just what they are. Probably, those two scoundrels were coming down here to see whether they had arrived, coming down here from their radio station. Come on, let's have a look."

He started forward eagerly. Jack was a step behind him. An inarticulate cry from Tom Barnum smote Jack's ears, and he spun about. The next instant he saw a man almost upon him, swinging for his head with a club. He tried to dodge, to avoid the blow, but the club clipped him on the side of the head and knocked him to the ground. His senses reeled, and he struggled desperately to rise, but to no avail. A confused sound of shouts and cries and struggling filled his ears, then it seemed as if a wave engulfed him, and he lost consciousness.

When he recovered his senses, Jack found himself lying in darkness. He tried to move, but discovered his hands and feet were tied. He lay quiet, listening. A faint moan came to his ears.

"Who's that?" he whispered.

"That you, Jack?" came Frank's voice in reply, filled with anxiety.

It was close at hand.

"Yes. Where's Bob?"

"He's here, but I'm worried about him. I can't get any sound from him."

"What happened?" asked Jack, his head buzzing, and sore. "Where are the others?"

"Guess we're all here, Mister Jack," answered Tom Barnum's voice, out of the darkness. "Leastways, Captain What's-his-name's here beside me, but he don't speak, neither."

"Good heavens," exclaimed Jack, in alarm, and making a valiant effort to shake off his dizziness. "Where are we? What happened? Frank, do you know? Tom, do you?"

"Somebody jumped on me from behind," said Frank, "and then the fellow I was sitting on, this Higginbotham, squirmed around and took a hand, and I got the worst of it, and was hustled off to the old Brownell house and thrown in this dark room. I had my hands full and couldn't see what was going on. I heard Tom yell, but at the same time this fellow jumped on me. That's all I know."

"There was a dozen or more of 'em come out of the woods," said Tom. "They sneaked out. We was pretty close to the trees. I just happened to look back, an' they was on us. Didn't even have time to pull my pistol. They just bowled me over by weight of numbers. Like Mister Frank, I had my own troubles and couldn't see what happened to the rest of you."

There was a momentary silence, broken by Jack.

"It's easy to see what happened," he said, bitterly. "What fools we were. Those things on the beach were radio-controlled boats which had brought liquor ashore, and a gang was engaged in carrying it up to the Brownell house. We happened along when the beach was clear, and Higginbotham and that other scoundrel were the vanguard of the returning party. When they shouted on being attacked by you and Bob, and Frank, the rest who were behind them in the woods were given the alarm, sneaked up quietly, and bagged us all. A pretty mess."

A groan from Bob interrupted.

"Poor old Bob," said Jack, contritely, for he had been blaming the headstrong fellow in his thoughts for having caused their difficulties by his precipitate attack on Higginbotham. "He seems to have gotten the worst of it."

"Look here, Jack," said Frank suddenly. "My hands and feet are tied, and I suppose yours are, too. I'm going to roll over toward you, and do you try to open the knots on my hands with your teeth."

"Would if I could, Frank," said Jack. "But that clip I got on the side of my head must have loosened all my teeth. They ache like sixty."

"All right, then I'll try my jaws on your bonds."

Presently, Frank was alongside Jack in the darkness.

"Here, where are your hands?" he said.

After some squirming about, Frank found what he sought, and began to chew and pull at the ropes binding Jack's hands. It was a tedious process at first, but presently he managed to get the knot sufficiently loosened to permit of his obtaining a good purchase, and then, in a trice, the ropes fell away.

"Quick now, Jack," he said, anxiously. "We don't know how long we'll be left undisturbed. Somebody may come along any minute. Untie your feet and then free Tom and me, and we can see how Bob and Captain Folsom are fixed."

Jack worked with feverish haste. After taking the bonds from his ankles, he undid those binding Frank. The latter immediately went to the side of Bob, whose groans had given way to long, shuddering sighs that indicated a gradual restoration of consciousness but that also increased the alarm of his comrades regarding his condition.

Tom Barnum next was freed and at once set to work to perform a similar task for Captain Folsom, who meantime had regained his senses and apparently was injured no more severely than Jack, having like him received a clout on the side of the head. Tom explained the situation while untying him. Fortunately, the bonds in all cases had been only hastily tied.

"Bob, this is Frank. Do you hear me? Frank." The latter repeated anxiously, several times, in the ear of his comrade.

"Frank?" said Bob, thickly, at last. "Oh, my head."

"Thank heaven, you're alive," said Frank fervently, and there was a bit of tremolo in his tone. He and the big fellow were very close to each other. "Now just lie quiet, and I'll explain where you are and what happened. But first tell me are you hurt any place other than your head?"

"No, I think not," said Bob. "But the old bean's humming like a top. What happened, anyhow? Where are we? Where are the others?"

"Right here, old thing," said Jack, on the other side of the prone figure.

Thereupon Bob, too, was put in possession of the facts as to what had occurred. At the end of the recital, he sat up, albeit with an effort, for his head felt, as he described it, "like Fourth of July night—and no safe and sane Fourth, at that."

"I don't know if you fellows can ever forgive me," he said, with a groan. "I got you into this. I saw red, when I discovered it was Higginbotham and that other rascal who had set the plane afire. There they were, in the woods, and I set out to crawl after them. Frank followed me."

"Tried to stop him," interposed Frank. "But he wouldn't be stopped. I didn't dare call to the rest of you for fear of giving the alarm, so I went along. Anyhow, Bob," he added, loyally, "I felt just the same way you did about it, and you were no worse than I."

"No," said Bob. "You weren't to blame at all. It was all my fault."

"Forget it," said Jack. "Let's consider what to do now? Here we are, five of us, and now that we are on guard we ought to be able to give a pretty good account of ourselves. I, for one, don't propose to sit around and wait for our captors to dispose of us. How about the rest of you?"

"Say on, Jack," said Frank. "If Bob's all right, nothing matters."

"You have something in mind, Hampton, I believe," said Captain Folsom, quietly. "What is it?"



CHAPTER XII

THE WINDOWLESS ROOM

"I have no plan," said Jack, "except this: We have freed ourselves of our bonds, and we ought to make an effort to escape. And, if we can make our escape," he added, determinedly, "I, for one, am anxious to try to turn the tables."

"Turn the tables, Jack?" exclaimed Frank. "What do you mean? How could we do that?"

"If we could capture the smugglers' radio plant," Jack suggested, "and call help, we could catch these fellows in the act. Of course, I know, there is only a slim chance that we could get immediate aid in this isolated spot. But I've been thinking of that possibility. Do you suppose any boats of the 'Dry Navy' about which you spoke are in the vicinity, Captain Folsom?"

In the darkness, the latter could be heard to stir and move closer. All five, as a matter of fact, had drawn together and spoke in whispers that were barely audible.

"That is a bully idea, Hampton," said Captain Folsom, with quickened interest. "Yes, I am certain one or more of Lieutenant Summers's fleet of sub chasers is along this stretch of coast. From Montauk Point to Great South Bay, he told me recently, he intended to set a watch at sea for smugglers."

"Very good," said Jack. "Then, if we can gain possession of the smugglers' radio plant and call help, we may be able to catch these fellows and make a big haul. For, I presume, they must be bringing a big shipment of liquor ashore now. And, as the night is far advanced, doubtless they will keep it here until, say, to-morrow night, when they would plan to send it to the city in trucks. Don't you fellows imagine that is about what their plan of procedure would be?"

All signified approval in some fashion or other.

"Our first step, of course," said Captain Folsom, "must be to gain our freedom from the house. Are any of you familiar with the interior? Also, has anybody got any matches? My service pistol has been taken, and I presume you fellows also have been searched and deprived of your weapons?"

General affirmation followed.

"But about matches? Will you please search your pockets, everybody?"

The boys never carried matches, being nonsmokers. Tom Barnum, however, not only produced a paper packet of matches but, what was far more valuable at the moment, a flashlight of flat, peculiar shape which he carried in a vest pocket and which his captors had overlooked in their hurried search. He flashed it once, and discovered it was in good working order.

"So far, so good," said Captain Folsom. "Now to discover the extent of our injuries, before we proceed any further. Mine aren't enough to keep me out of any fighting. How about the rest of you?"

"Frank's been binding up my head with the tail of my shirt," said Bob. "But I guess he could do a better job if he received a flash from that light of yours, Tom. Just throw it over here on my head, will you?"

Tom complied, and it was seen Bob had received a nasty wound which had laid the scalp open on the left side three or four inches. The cut had bled profusely. With the light to work by, Frank, who like his companions was proficient in first aid treatment of injuries, shredded a piece of the white shirting for lint, made a compress, and then bound the whole thing tightly. Jack's blow was not so serious, but Frank bound his head, too.

None of the boys nor Tom Barnum ever had been inside the Brownell house before, although all were more or less familiar with its outer appearance. Tom now made a careless survey of the room by the aid of his flashlight. He would flash it on for only a moment, as he moved about soundlessly, having removed his shoes, and he so hid the rays under his coat that very little light showed. This he did in order to prevent as much as possible any rays falling through cracks in the walls or floor, and betraying their activity.

The room, Tom found on completing his survey, was without windows and possessed of only one door, a massive oaken affair with great strap iron hinges and set in a ponderous frame. From the slope of the ceiling at the sides, he judged the room was under the roof. Walls and ceiling were plastered.

Not a sound had penetrated into the room from the outside, or from the other parts of the house, and at this all had marveled earlier. Tom's report of the survey supplied an answer to the mystery. There was little chance for sound to penetrate within.

"But a room without windows?" said Jack. "How, then, does it happen the air is fresh?"

"There's a draught from up above," answered Tom. "I cain't see any skylight, but there may be an air port back in the angle of the roof tree. Say, Mister Jack, this room gives me the creeps," he added, his voice involuntarily taking on an awed tone. "A room without windows. An' over in the far corner I found some rusted iron rings fastened to big staples set deep into a post in the wall."

"What, Tom? You don't say."

"Yes, siree. Ol' Brownell, the pirate whaler's, been dead for a long time. But there's queer stories still around these parts about him an' his house; stories not only 'bout how he was killed finally by the men as he'd cheated, but also 'bout a mysterious figure in white that used to be seen on the roof, an' yells heard comin' from here. You know what?" He leaned closer, and still further lowered his voice. "I'll bet this room was a cell fer some crazy body an' ol' Brownell kept him or her chained up when violent. Some people still say, you know, as how that white figure wa'n't a ghost but the ol' man's crazy wife."

"Brrr."

Frank shivered in mock terror and grinned in the darkness. "Some place to be," he added.

Nevertheless, light though he made of Tom's story, the hour, the circumstances in which they found themselves, the mystery of the windowless room, all combined to inspire in him an uncanny feeling, as if unseen hands were reaching for him from the dark.

"Getting out is still our first consideration," Captain Folsom said. "What Barnum reports makes it look difficult, but let's see. Have you tried the door? Is it locked?"

"Tried it?" said Tom. "Ain't possible. There ain't neither handle nor knob inside, to pull on. No lock nor keyhole in it, neither. Must be barred on the outside. That's another reason for thinkin' it was built for a prison cell."

"And if the old pirate kept a crazy woman in here when she was violent," supplied Jack, "you can bet he built the walls thick to smother her yells. That's why we hear no sounds."

There was silence for a time. Each was busy with his own thoughts. The prospect, indeed, looked dark. How could they escape from a cell such as this?

Jack was first to break the silence.

"Look here," said he, "fresh air is admitted into this room in some fashion, and, probably, as Tom surmised, through an air port in the ceiling. It may be the old pirate even built a trap door in the roof. Obviously, anyhow, our best and, in fact, our only chance to escape lies through the roof. It may be possible to break through there, whereas we couldn't get through walls or the door. Let's investigate."

Eager whispers approved the proposal.

"Come on, Tom," Jack continued, "we'll investigate that angle in the roof tree. You brace yourself against the wall, and I'll stand on your shoulders."

The two moved away with the others close behind them. Jack mounted on Tom Barnum's shoulders. He found the ceiling sloped up to a lofty peak. Running his hands up each slope, he could discern no irregularity. But, suddenly, nearing the top, where the sides drew together, he felt a strong draught of air on his hands.

Their positions at the time were this: Tom was leaning against the end wall, with Jack on his shoulders, and facing the wall. The ceiling sloped upward on each side and it was up these slopes Jack had been running his hands. Tall as he was, and standing upright, his head still was some feet from the roof tree above, where the sloping sidewalls joined.

When he felt the inrush of air on his hands, which were then above his head, Jack reached forward. He encountered no wall at all. But, about a foot above his head, instead, his fingers encountered the edge of an opening in the end wall and under the roof tree. Trembling with excitement, he felt along the edge from side wall to side wall, and found the opening was more than two feet across.

Not a word had been said, meanwhile, not a whisper uttered. Now, leaning down, and in a voice barely audible, Jack whispered to the anxious group at his feet:

"Fellows, there's an opening up here under the roof tree. I can't tell yet what it is, but if you hand me up Tom's flashlight I'll have a look at it."

Frank passed the little electric torch upward, flashing it once to aid Jack in locating it in the darkness. Again Jack straightened up carefully. Holding the flat little flashlight between his teeth, he gripped the edge of the opening and chinned himself. Then, holding on with one hand, with the other he manipulated the flashlight.

One glance was sufficient. It revealed a tunnel-like passage under the roof tree. This passage was triangular in shape, with the beam of the roof tree at the peak, the sloping, unplastered sides of the roof and a flat, solid floor. It extended some distance forward, apparently, for the rays of the flashlight did not reveal any wall across it. The floor was solidly planked, probably a yard wide, instead of two feet-plus of Jack's original estimate, and the height from floor to roof tree was all of two and a half feet.

Laying down the flashlight, Jack drew himself over the edge of the opening. Then, moving cautiously forward in the darkness, not daring to throw the light ahead of him for fear of betraying his presence, he crawled on hands and knees. The draught of air through the passageway was strong, and he had not proceeded far before he saw ahead faint bars across the passage, not of light but of lesser darkness.

He decided there was some opening at the end of the passage, but could not imagine what it might be. When he came up to it, however, the solution was simple. Immediately under the peak of the roof tree, in a side wall, was an opening in which was set a slatted shutter. This admitted air, yet kept rain from beating in.

And in a flash, Jack realized to what ingenious lengths the original owner of the house had gone in order to provide for his prisoner a cell that would be virtually soundproof, yet have a supply of fresh air. So high, too, was the opening of the passage in the cell that one person could not reach it unaided.

Jubilant at his discovery and with a plan for putting it to use as a means of escape, Jack, unable to turn about in the narrow passage, worked his way backward until the projection of his feet into emptiness warned him he had reached the room. Then he let himself down and, when once more with his companions, explained the nature of his discovery.

"We can lift that shutter out," he added, "and swing upward to the roof tree. There is a cupola, an old-fashioned cupola, on this house, as I remember it. Once we are on the roof, we can work our way to that cupola and probably find a trapdoor leading down into the house. If we decide that is too dangerous, we may be able to slide down the gutters. Anyhow, once we are in the outer air and on the roof, we'll be in a better position than here. Come on. I'll go up first, and then help Captain Folsom up. Do the rest of you follow, and, as Frank is the lightest, he ought to come last. The last man will have to be pulled up with our belts, as he will have nobody to stand on."



CHAPTER XIII

THE TABLES TURNED

Negotiation of the entrance of all into the passageway was made without accident, Tom Barnum staying until next to last and then, with a number of belts buckled together, aiding Frank to gain the opening. Meanwhile Jack, who was in the lead, found on closer investigation that the slatted shutter obscuring the air port was on hinges and caught with a rusted latch. To open the latch and unhinge the shutter and then, by turning it sideways, pull it back into the passageway and place it noiselessly on the floor, was a comparatively simple matter.

Whispering to Captain Folsom, next in line, to pass the word along that all should stay in the passageway while he investigated the situation outside, Jack squirmed partway through the opening, faced upward, took a good clutch on the shingled edge of the rooftree and gradually drew his body out and over the edge of the roof. When, finally, he lay extended on the roof, clutching the saddle for support, he was of the opinion that Captain Folsom with only one arm to aid him, certainly could not negotiate the exit in similar fashion, and examined the shingles to see whether they could be torn up sufficiently to admit of his friends climbing through.

The moon shone brilliantly. On that side of the house were no lights in any windows. No sounds of any human activity came to him. The house was large, with numerous gables that prevented Jack from seeing seaward.

Leaning over the edge of the roof, he called in a low voice to Captain Folsom who looked up from the little window. Jack told him to wait, and explained he was going to try to rip off a number of shingles.

"But the crosspieces to which the shingles are nailed are close together," Captain Folsom objected. "They are too close to permit of our crawling through. And, while they are light and might be broken, yet we would make considerable noise doing so and might give the alarm."

Jack considered a moment.

"That's true," he replied. "But, if I break off the shingles around the peak of the roof, here at the very end, you will have a better chance to climb out, then, because you will have the exposed crosspieces to cling to."

Working rapidly, Jack managed to remove a patch of shingles over a space of several square feet, in short order. By the exercise of extreme caution, he was enabled to complete the work without making other than very slight noise.

"Now," he said, speaking through the bars made by the crosspieces, "come ahead, Captain. Put your head backward out of the window, and place your hand just where I tell you. I shall hook my feet under these crosspieces to brace myself. That will leave both hands free to aid you."

Captain Folsom followed directions, and with Jack lending his support, he managed to gain the roof. Then Bob, Tom Barnum and Frank followed in quick succession. To make room for them, Jack and Captain Folsom had worked their way along the rooftree, which was not the main rooftree of the house, they had discovered, but that of one of the side gables, with which, as Jack phrased it, "the house was all cluttered up."

This particular rooftree was blocked ahead by the cupola, to which Jack earlier had referred. It was a square, truncated tower with a breast-high wooden balustrade around it. Jack climbed up this balustrade, and Captain Folsom, with Bob aiding him from the rear and Jack giving him a hand in front, followed.

Then, while the others were clambering up, Jack cast a quick look around from this eminence. He found, however, that the trees of the grove cut off any view of the beach. But he was enabled to see the grill-like towers of the radio station some distance to the left of the house. With satisfaction, he noted not a light was shown, and apparently the place was deserted.

Still not a sound of human activity of any sort reached him, and Jack was puzzled. Had their captors departed, and left them bound, in that apparently impregnable cell, to die? He could not believe it. No, surely they were not to be killed. Either the house was to be abandoned by the smugglers, and their friends and families would be notified where to find them, or else, the smugglers intended to return for them presently.

If this latter supposition were correct, then, thought Jack, it behooved him to act quickly. For, if the smugglers returned and found they had escaped from the cell, there would be only one conclusion to draw as to their method of escape, and that would be the right one.

Bending down, he saw at once in the bright moonlight the outlines of a big trapdoor under his feet. A ringbolt at one edge showed how it was raised. Seizing it in a firm grip, Jack started to raise the trap. His heart beat suffocatingly. What would he find underneath?

An inch at a time Jack raised the trap, while the others knelt at the sides, peering through the growing opening. Only darkness met their gaze, and the smell of hot air imprisoned in a closed house came out like a blast from a furnace door. The hinges, apparently long unused and rusted, creaked alarmingly despite all the care Jack exercised. But not a sound came up from below.

At length Jack threw back the door, and the bright moonlight pouring down the opening in a flood of silver revealed a narrow, ladder-like stairway descending to an uncarpeted hall. Jack started down with the others at his heels.

In the hall he paused, to once more accustom his eyes to the dimness which now, however, was not impenetrable, as in their cell, because of the moonlight. Presently he was able to make out a long hall with only two doors breaking the double expanse of wall. One door, on the right, was massive and over it was a huge iron bar in a socket.

"That's the door to the cell they had us in," said Frank, with conviction, as they stood grouped before it. "Brrr. We'd have had a fine chance to break that down."

Leading the way and walking on the balls of his feet, shoes in hand, Jack moved forward to the other door and had just laid his hand on the knob and was about to turn it, when he heard voices on the other side and the sound of footsteps mounting upward.

His mind worked lightning-fast in this crisis. It was the door of a stairway leading to the lower part of the house. Somebody was ascending it, not one man but several. They could have only one purpose. There was only one room up here on this upper floor—the cell. Therefore, whoever was coming up intended to visit them, thinking they still were in that room.

These thoughts flashed through Jack's mind in less time than it took a man to mount a step. And, as quickly, he thought of a plan. Turning to his companions, he whispered:

"Quick, get back to the cupola stairs, Frank, because you're nearest. Then run up and lower the trapdoor, and crouch outside until I call you. The rest of us can crouch down in this little space beyond the door, and we'll be hidden by it when the door swings open."

Frank was off on noiseless feet, while the other four huddled into the space indicated by Jack. By the time the men mounting the stairs swung the door inward, Frank had succeeded in gaining the cupola. The noise made by the rusted hinges, as the trap was lowered was covered up by the voices of the men.

Fortunately, they did not close the stair door, but left it standing open, thus hiding the four behind it. There were three in the party, judging by the sound of voices and footsteps, and one at least carried a powerful electric flashlight.

"Thought I heard a scratching sound," said a voice, which Jack and Bob recognized as that of Higginbotham. "But I guess it was made by mice. This old house is filled with them."

A few steps farther along the party paused, and Jack, looking from his hiding place, saw three figures, shadowy and indistinct, before the huge door of the cell, upon which one man had thrown the light, while another was fumbling at the bar. The door swung open, and the three walked in.

"Come on," whispered Jack.

Not waiting for the others, realizing it would be only a moment or two before their disappearance from the cell would be discovered, he leaped from hiding, tore down the little hall like a whirlwind, dashed against the great door and swung it into place. Bob, who was close at his heels, dropped the iron bar into place.

They were not a moment too soon. Shouts of amazement and alarm came from the room even as the door was swinging shut. And hardly had Bob dropped the bar into the socket than those within threw themselves against the door. So tremendously thick and strong was the latter, however, that with its closing all sound from within was reduced to the merest whisper. As for trying to move it, as well attempt to push an elephant over by hand. This those within must have realized, for presently they desisted.

"Got 'em in their own cage," said Jack, triumphantly. And, pulling from his pocket Tom Barnum's little flashlight, he reassured himself the door really was barred, then mounting the stairway thumped on the trapdoor as a signal to Frank. The latter at once raised the door.

"Come on down, Frank," said Jack. "There were three of them, and we penned them in the cell."

Hastily he explained what had occurred.

"Now, fellows," said he. "Let's see who else is downstairs. Let's see if we can't get out of here, so we can radio Lieutenant Summers for help."

"But how about leaving these chaps behind, Jack?" protested Bob. "They can get out the same way we did, and give the alarm. What we want to do is to bring Lieutenant Summers to the scene without letting these rascals get an inkling of what's hanging over them. If Higginbotham and his companions escape, he'll start a search for us, and our plans will stand a fair chance of being spoiled."

"You're right, Bob," said Jack. "But what can we do? They can't get out of there in a minute. It will take them some time because, for one reason, they will be fearful of our lying in wait for them, perhaps. Meantime, we can be moving fast. Captain Folsom," he added, deferring to the older man, "what do you think we ought to do?"

But the latter laid his sound arm on Jack's shoulder.

"Listen," he cautioned.

Muffled, but distinct, there came an outbreak of pistol shots, followed by shouts faintly heard.

"What I feared," said Captain Folsom. "They are out on the roof already, and shooting and calling to attract help. Come. We have no time to lose."

Fumbling his way along the dark hall toward the stair door, he said:

"Quick, Hampton, with your light. I can't find the knob. Ah"—as the light of the little torch winked on—"that's better."

He pulled the door open, and started down the stairs, Jack at his shoulder and flashing the light ahead. The others crowded at their heels.



CHAPTER XIV

THROUGH THE TUNNEL

At the foot of the stairway was another door, and this stood open. It gave upon another hallway, carpeted richly, and dim, yet not so dark but what Captain Folsom could see his way. This faint illumination came up a great open stairway from a wide and deep living room below into which descended another stairway at the far end of the hall.

A male voice, not unmusical, singing a rousing chorus in Italian, and peering circumspectly through an open balustrade into that lower room, Captain Folsom saw the singer seated at a great square piano, a giant of a man with a huge shock of dark brown hair and ferocious mustaches, while a coal black negro, even huger in size, lolled negligently at one end of the keyboard, his red lips parted wide in a grin of enjoyment and ivory white teeth showing between, and at the other end of the piano, with his elbows planted on the instrument and his head pressed between his hands, stood or rather leaned a rough-looking man of medium height, his grizzled hair all awry where he had run his fingers through it, and wearing a khaki shirt open at the throat.

"Sing that again, Pete. What d'ye call it? The Bull Fighter Song, hey? Well, I don't know much about music, but that gits under my skin. Come on."

The man called Pete was about to comply, and the Negro was nodding his head in violent approval, when the door from the outside gallery was burst open unceremoniously, and a villainous looking individual whirled into the room in a state of great excitement. Others were behind him but, evidently not daring to venture within, stood grouped in the open doorway.

"Here, Mike, wot d'ye mean, comin' in like this? Into a gentleman's house, too. Don't ye know any better, ye scut?" demanded the first speaker, he who had asked for a repetition of the song.

Evidently, thought Captain Folsom, here was the leader, for the other deferred to him, although it was apparent he was a privileged character.

"Ah, now, Paddy Ryan," said the man called Mike; "ah, now, Paddy Ryan, sure an' I know 'tis a gentleman's house since you rule it. But do them fellers on the roof know it?"

"Fellers on the roof?" said Ryan, advancing a step, threateningly. "Mike, ye been drinkin' again. An' the night's work not done yet. Out on ye, ye—ye——"

"Listen," said Mike, holding up a hand. "Listen. 'Tis all I ask. Sure an' wid Pete caterwaulin', 'tis no wonder at all ye cannot hear wot's goin' on. Hear the shootin' now, don't ye?"

As if he were a magician calling the demonstration into being at command, the shooting and shouting of the trio on the roof, which for the moment had died down, was now violently renewed. Ryan's lower jaw dropped open grotesquely.

"Now will ye believe me?" demanded Mike, triumphantly.

"Who—who is it?" asked Ryan, still in the grip of his astonishment.

"How should we know?" asked Mike. "We was comin' up from the beach wid another cargo o' the stuff when we hear it."

"Mistuh Higginbotham went up to de roof wid two men," interposed the gigantic negro. "Leastways, he done went up to see 'bout dem prisonahs an' ax 'em a few quistions."

"You're right, George," said Ryan. "I'd forgotten. Listen to that. There they go again. Come on."

He darted for the outer door, the negro George, Pete and Mike at his heels. The crowd of mixed whites and blacks in the doorway gave 'way before him. In a trice they all were gone. The room was deserted.

"Now is our chance," said Captain Folsom, to the three boys and Tom Barnum, crouching beside him. "Come on. We must get downstairs and out of the house before they return, for return they will as soon as they understand what the fellows on the roof have to tell of our mysterious disappearance."

He darted down the stairs, two at a time, with the four others close behind him. Halfway across the big room, however, he halted abruptly and groaned:

"Too late. They're coming back."

"Here," cried Jack, seizing him by an arm, and pushing him along. "Quick, fellows, through this door. It's a chance."

Jack had observed a closed door, near the piano, and the others followed pell-mell behind him and Captain Folsom. Frank, the last to enter, closed the door and, finding his hand encounter a key, turned it in the lock.

None too soon. They could hear shouts and curses, as the mob surged up the stairway.

Jack, meanwhile, had been flashing Tom's torch about and, discovering a wall switch, had pressed a button. At once an electric light in the ceiling flashed on, revealing that they were in a large pantry. Bottles of liquor stood about and, on a tray, were a number of sandwiches.

"That black butler was preparing to feed his boss," surmised Frank. "Well, those chicken sandwiches look all right. I'm goin' to have one. Hungry."

And without more ado, Frank took a sandwich and began eating.

"Great stuff," he said.

"Say, you, come on," called Jack, smiling a little, nevertheless, despite his anxiety. "Think of eating at a time like this!"

"Why not?" said Frank, polishing off the first sandwich and taking another. "Well, lead on, Macduff. Where you going?"

"There's no way out of this except by the cellar," Jack replied, already having opened the other door of the pantry and shot the rays of his searchlight down the stairway. "Shall we try it?"

"We can't stay here," answered Captain Folsom. "They're searching the rooms above us right now, by the sound of it. Soon they'll be down here. And we can't go out through the living room, because I've withdrawn the key and peeped through the keyhole in the door and can see two men on guard at the foot of the stairway."

Tom Barnum up to this moment had had little to say. Now, however, he came forward with a remark that caused the others to stare in amazement.

"There's said to be a secret passage from the cellar to Starfish Cove or thereabouts," he said. "I don't know nothin' about it, but that's what folks say. They say as how old Pirate Brownell was afraid his sins would catch up with him some day, and hoped to escape by the passage when the avengers came. He couldn't do it, however. He wasn't quick enough."

"A secret passage?" said Jack. "Come on. Last man closes the cellar door and locks it from the inside."

Frank was the last to go. Before quitting the pantry, he stuffed the remaining sandwiches into his trousers pockets, seized on a tremendous butcher knife which was lying on the butler's cabinet, and switched off the light. Then he locked the cellar stairway door, and descended to where the others awaited him at the foot.

They stood, as well as they could discern, in the midst of a huge cellar piled high with cases upon cases of bottles and barrels, too.

"Whew," said Captain Folsom, "this looks like a bonded liquor warehouse. If we could only raid this place right now, it would be the richest haul in the history of the country since the nation went dry."

"Is all this liquor?" asked Frank, incredulously.

"It is," said Captain Folsom, pulling a bottle from the nearest case and examining the label critically. "And it's the genuine stuff, too. Brought in from the Bahamas. English and Scotch whiskey."

Louder shouts overhead and the noise of many feet descending stairs warned them the pursuit had drawn to the ground floor, and that they were in momentary danger of discovery.

"Those two doors won't hold long," said Jack, anxiously. "If we can't find that tunnel entrance, we are out of luck. I think myself, we had better look for a door to the outside and try to escape that way."

At that moment, Tom Barnum's voice, low but tense and thrilling with excitement, came out of the darkness ahead.

"Mister Jack, Mister Jack, come here. Here where ye see my light."

The others had not missed Tom before. But immediately on reaching the cellar, he had gone exploring by the light of the matches he had found in his pockets, without troubling Jack for the flashlight.

Hurriedly, the others now made their way to where a dim gleam of light which went out before they reached it only to be succeeded by another, showed where Tom was awaiting them. When they reached his side, they found him crouched at the foot of a wall, pushing and straining at a big barrel.

"Lend a hand," he panted. "The entrance is back here."

Almost over their heads on the floor above, an attack was made at this moment on the door connecting living room and pantry. They could hear the shouts to surrender, to unlock the door, and the blows being rained upon the barrier.

"Push. It's a-movin'."

The barrel did move aside sufficiently to admit of a man getting between it and the wall, and in the rays of the flashlight appeared a small, door-like opening in the stone.

"In with ye, every one," said Tom. "I'll pile a couple o' these cases on top of each other to cover up the entrance, an' climb over it."

The door above, the first of the two impeding pursuit, fell with a splintering crash. There was a shout of triumph, giving way to surprise when the pantry was found untenanted. Captain Folsom and the boys without more delay crawled into the opening. They could hear Tom piling cases over the entrance, then a thud as, having climbed his barricade, he dropped to the cellar floor on the inside. Then he joined them.

Once more, Jack called the precious flashlight into play, and all could see they stood in a narrow, brick-walled tunnel, with a vaulted roof above. It was some four feet high, preventing them from standing upright, and the walls were a yard apart. The next moment the flashlight flickered and died.

"Gone," said Jack. "Burned out. Now we are ditched."

"Not yet," said Captain Folsom, resolutely. "Barnum, how many matches have you?"

"About a dozen left in this packet," answered Tom's voice in the darkness. "But they're them paper things the cigar companies give away. Got 'em the other day when I was to the village. They're not much good."

"They're better than nothing," answered the captain. "They were good enough to enable you to find this tunnel. Come, there's no need to despair. I've got some matches myself, big ones. I'll give them to you, and do you lead the way."

Striking a match, he located Tom behind him. Handing him a dozen big matches which he had found in a trousers pocket, he pressed against the wall to permit of Tom's passing him. The others did likewise.

"Keep right behind me an' touchin' each other," said Tom. "I can feel the wall on each side with my hands, an' so can the rest of ye as we go along. I'll save the matches till we need them."

Without more ado, he set out, Jack, Bob, Frank and Captain Folsom at his heels in the order mentioned. They found that, despite the pitchy-black darkness, they were able to make good progress, for the narrow confines of the tunnel permitted of no going astray. All kept listening with strained attention for sounds of pursuit, but none came for so long they began to feel more hopeful. Perhaps, their pursuers did not know of the secret passage. No, that was unlikely, inasmuch as one or other of the smugglers must have seen the tunnel mouth when he placed that barrel before it. Faint shouts from the cellar came to their ears, indicating a search for them was in progress there. The smugglers probably would look to see whether they were hidden among the barrels and cases, and not until that search had been thoroughly prosecuted would they investigate the tunnel.

These reflections were exchanged among them as they proceeded. Suddenly the air, which had been remarkably fresh, although earthy-smelling, became cleaner. All felt they were approaching an exit. The next moment Tom Barnum stumbled and fell forward.



CHAPTER XV

RESCUE AT HAND

For a moment Tom could be heard muttering rueful exclamations as he caressed his bruises. Jack who was next in line was trying to help him to his feet. His foot, too, struck an obstruction which caused him to lose balance. To avoid falling on Tom, he put out his arms toward the walls. Instead of meeting solid brickwork as before, however, he felt his hands encounter crumbling earth. He lurched forward, and his face was buried in a mass of mould.

Spluttering and blowing, he scrabbled around and his fingers closed over a root. It came away in his clutch. The next moment a slide of earth cascaded downward and Jack found himself leaning against a bank of dirt, an uprooted bush in one hand, and a patch of moonlight and sky overhead.

It was all clear. Where the tunnel approached close to the surface, the roof and walls had caved in. Tom had stumbled over this mound and fallen, and Jack accidentally had torn away the screen of bushes obscuring the hole above.

"Come on, fellows," he cried, delightedly, scrambling upward, while Tom Barnum, who had regained his feet and observed how the land lay, boosted him; "come on, here's a place to get out of the tunnel."

Quickly the others followed. They stood in the midst of a grove of trees. Some distance to the rear twinkled lights which indicated the location of the Brownell house. No sounds of pursuit reached them. But, stay. What was that? Captain Folsom bent down, his ear close to the opening whence they had climbed out and up to the surface.

"They've found the tunnel, I'm afraid," he said. "They are coming."

"Can't we keep 'em back here?" said Bob, unexpectedly. "We can kick more dirt down into the tunnel. And we can jump down and heave out a lot of those fallen bricks, and so keep the gang back when they arrive."

"But we couldn't keep up a defense like that forever," objected Jack. "Some of them would be bound to go back through the tunnel, swing around, and attack us from the rear. They have weapons, and we haven't. We'd be caught between two fires."

Bob grunted.

"Guess you're right. But I hate all this running away. I'd like to take a crack at them. Never gave me a fair chance the first time, jumping on me in a gang, and when I had my back turned, too."

"I know how you feel, Bob," said Jack. "But, without weapons, run we must. And we had better be quick about it now, too. They won't be long working through that tunnel, if they have lights."

"No, the shouts are growing closer," said Captain Folsom, bending down again to the hole. "But, look here, Hampton, you make a run to that radio station which I see above the trees there, to the right, in that opening. We'll stay here until they reach the hole. Then we'll batter them with bricks, and flee to the left. That will create a diversion, and give you a chance to try to raise Lieutenant Summers."

"Good idea," grunted Bob, immediately dropping into the hole and tossing out broken bricks from the crumbling walls.

"Don't let them get too close to you," warned Jack. "They're armed. And run toward home. They won't follow far. I'll rejoin you somewhere along the beach beyond the boundary fence, if you wait for me."

"We'll wait, if they don't make us run too far," promised Captain Folsom. "In that case, make your way home. And if you cannot get Lieutenant Summers by radio, don't endanger yourself by delaying too long around here. Now go."

With a nod of understanding, Jack turned and darted down the forest aisles toward the radio station.

Who would he find there? He wondered. Or, would the station be deserted? That it was in working order, there was no doubt, for it was the station's issue of radio control to the liquor containers offshore which they had overheard before deciding to investigate.

Clutching the big butcher knife, the only weapon in the party, which Frank had pressed into his hand as he set out on his lonely mission, Jack dashed ahead recklessly through the trees. The radio plant of the smugglers burst full on his sight, as he came to the edge of the trees fringing a little clearing. No lights showed. Nevertheless, he paused to reconnoitre, asking himself how best to approach it to avoid discovery in case it should have an occupant.

As he stood there, a sudden outburst of shouts to the rear, followed by a few revolver shots, warned him the pursuers had reached the hole in the tunnel. He hoped big Bob was controlling his recklessness, and not running into danger. If his friends kept down, there was no great danger of their being shot, for only one man at a time could approach through the tunnel and him they could pelt into retreat with their bricks.

The shots ceased. The shouts died. Jack grinned in satisfaction. The enemy had been halted. Now, if his friends only utilized their opportunity to hurry away before being attacked from the rear, all would be well. He listened with strained attention. No further sounds of combat reached him.

Meanwhile, he had been examining the ground. The moon was low down. What time had they left home? Two o'clock? By the look of the moon it must be near four now. That would be about right. Although it seemed a lifetime, although an excess of excitement had been crowded into that period, still only about two hours had elapsed.

Having the door of the radio station in full view, and observing no signs of life, as would have been the case providing some one had been present, for he would have been drawn to the door by this new and closer outburst of fighting, Jack decided to chance crossing the glade directly.

Darting ahead, he crouched listening, heard nothing, then flung wide the door which opened outward and sprang back. The moonlight fell full inside a long bar of light. The sending room, at least, was empty. Now for the power plant.

Jack entered, going warily, knife clutched in his hand, despite his growing confidence that he had the place to himself. There was a door at the rear. Behind that must be the power plant. He set his ear to the door. Only the low hum of a dynamo came to his ears. He had expected that, for wiring glimpsed outside the Brownell house and leading in this direction through the trees had indicated the house current was supplied from the power house here. But was anyone in that other room, in attendance?

There was a key in the connecting door. He tried the handle softly. The door was locked. Good. At least he would be safe from surprise from that quarter. All the while, in order to guard against surprise from the outside, he had been standing sideways, one eye on the outer door. Now something glimpsed there surprised an exclamation from him.

It was not that anyone appeared in the doorway. No, but offshore and not far distant a bright searchlight suddenly cut athwart the night, putting the moonlight to shame. It swung in a wide arc across the sky and then came down to the shore and began moving relentlessly along the beach.

He could not follow its movements fully. He could not see whence it came. The grove of trees intervening between the shore of Starfish Cove and the radio plant cut off complete view. But a wild hope leaped into his mind. Would the smugglers in the liquor ship offshore be likely to show a light? He did not consider it likely. Then, what sort of ship was it probable the light came from?

"By George," he said aloud, "maybe that's a boat of the 'Dry Navy' already on the track of these scoundrels."

He stood, gazing at that finger of light, spellbound. What else could the ship be that would be casting a searchlight along the shore, along this particular stretch of shore of all places, and at this particular time, what else could it be than a government boat?

Breaking the spell that bound him, he sprang to the instrument table, seized and adjusted a headpiece, pulled a transmitter to him, threw over the rheostat and adjusting the tuner to the 575 meter wave length which Captain Folsom had told him the government boats employed, he began calling. What should he say if a government boat replied? He decided on a plan of procedure.

Presently his receivers crackled, and he manipulated the controls until the sputtering ceased, when he heard a voice saying:

"U. S. Revenue Cutter Nark. Who is calling?"

Scarcely able to control his excitement at this almost unbelievable good luck, Jack stammered in reply. Then getting a grip on his emotions, he replied:

"Speaking for Captain Folsom. Is Lieutenant Summers aboard? Are you offshore?"

"We're offshore, all right," answered his correspondent, in a tone of the utmost surprise. "But how in the world do you know?"

"I want to speak to Lieutenant Summers," answered Jack, grinning to himself at the other's bewilderment. Even at this crucial moment, he could not resist the temptation to mystify the other a little. "As to knowing you're offshore," he added, "I can see you."

"See us? Say, this is too much for me. Wait till I call Lieutenant Summers," said the other. "Did you say Captain Folsom?"

"That's the name," said Jack. "Hurry, please. This is a matter of life and death."

Almost at once another voice took up the conversation, and from the tone of crisp authority, Jack sensed it must be the officer he had asked for speaking. Such, indeed, was the case. Lieutenant Summers was aboard the Nark, directing operations, and, as the radio room was in the chart house of the cutter, he had intervened on hearing his operator mention his own name and that of his colleague, Captain Folsom.

"Now, what's this all about?" he demanded. "Is Captain Folsom there? If so, put him on the phone."

"Are you Lieutenant Summers, sir?" asked Jack, respectfully.

"I am. Who are you? Where are you calling from? Where is Captain Folsom?"

"He's not here," said Jack, "but I am speaking for him. He's in grave danger ashore. Moreover, he wanted me to call for you, and if you are offshore near Starfish Cove—that's a little bay far down the south shore of Long Island—and if it's your ship that is playing a searchlight on the beach, then it's a miracle, sir. I'll try to explain."

Briefly as possible, then, Jack detailed the necessary facts for putting Lieutenant Summers in touch with the situation.

"Good," said Lieutenant Summers, in conclusion; "very good, indeed. We have received a tip liquor was to be landed somewhere along this coast to-night, and were scouting when you saw our light. It's a piece of luck, as you say. Do you think our searchlight has been seen by these rascals?"

"Probably," said Jack, "although I don't know. Captain Folsom and my friends may have kept them so busily engaged, they had no time to keep a lookout at sea."

"Well, I'll throw off the searchlight at once, anyhow. We want no advertising. I'll come in close and land my boats. Can you be at the beach to guide us?"

"I'll be there," replied Jack.

"Very well. We're about a mile offshore. We should land in fifteen minutes. Good-bye."

Jack took off the headpiece, threw the rheostat back to zero, and looked about him, as if dazed.

He could hardly believe his luck.



CHAPTER XVI

BOB REDEEMS HIMSELF

After Jack's departure the group which he left at the tunnel exit worked busily making what preparations were possible to receive their pursuers. Big Bob, who had jumped down into the opening, kept tossing out bricks at a furious rate, and Frank joined him and did likewise. Meanwhile, by the light of his matches, aided by the moonlight, which here in the woods, however, was not direct enough to be of any great help, Tom Barnum investigated the ground about the hole.

"As soon as the boys get out o' there," he reported to Captain Folsom, "we can all four of us kick down enough dirt to block up the tunnel pretty well. The earth is loose around here. That must'a been a recent cave-in. By yanking up some o' these bushes I already loosened the soil some more."

"Very good," said Captain Folsom, who had been listening closely to the sounds coming through the tunnel. "They're getting too close for comfort. I agree with you in believing this must have been a recent cave-in. I believe it is unsuspected by the enemy. They are coming along through that tunnel and making plenty of noise, as if they expected to have a considerable distance to go and fancied us pretty far ahead."

"We'll give 'em a surprise," said Tom, grinning. The watchman-mechanic of the Hampton radio plant was still a young man. He had served in France. And he was enjoying the situation.

"Come out now, Temple. And you, Merrick," said Captain Folsom, in a whisper. "To stay any longer would be only to expose yourselves needlessly. You have thrown out a lot of ammunition, as it is. Besides," he added, as he and Tom helped the others climb to the surface, "we want to kick down this dirt to block the tunnel."

The others followed Tom to the lip of the cave-in, overhanging the tunnel, and, exercising care to avoid tumbling in, succeeded in kicking down sufficient earth to more than half fill the opening. Little more than a foot of open space remained, after uprooted bushes had been thrown down on top of the earth.

Working feverishly and in a silence broken only by the dull sounds of the falling dirt, they had completed their task when the nearer approach of voices and of stumbling footfalls within the tunnel warned them to desist. Bob and Frank on one side of the slight opening, Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum on the other, they threw themselves prone on the ground. The bricks had been divided into two piles, one by the side of each pair.

They were none too soon. Barely had they taken their positions when the first man of the pursuers, proceeding without a light, stumbled against the dirt they had kicked down, and fell forward into the tangle of uprooted bushes. He let out a wild yell:

"Murder. Save me."

Bob raised himself on one hand, craned forward, took good aim at the hole, and let drive with a chunk of broken brick. There was a crack, a howl of anguish, succeeded by an outbreak of curses, as, following Bob's example, his companions also poured in a fire of brickbats from each side.

Several scattered revolver shots rang out, but, as all again had thrown themselves prone on the ground, the bullets sped harmlessly overhead. After waiting a moment, Bob again let drive with a piece of brick. That his aim was good was attested by a howl of anguish, succeeded this time not by more shots but by a scurrying sound of retreat. Evidently, the one or two men in the forefront had had enough, and had withdrawn into the tunnel.

By holding their breath and listening intently, they could, in fact, hear sounds of scuffling that indicated a considerable number of men were within the tunnel and were moving backward on each other to get away from the danger zone.

Suddenly to Bob's ears came the sound of a faint groan, not a foot from his head, it seemed to him, as he lay on the very edge of the hole, straining to listen. It startled him, but at once he realized whence it came. One of the pursuers, perhaps the man who had stumbled first into their barricade, must have been knocked out by a missile, and was coming to. Then Bob had a wild idea.

Rising to his knees, he peered down into the hole, descried a dark, round object just below him which he took to be the head of a man, and bracing himself with one arm, plunged the other into the hole.

Then, while Frank gasped and Tom Barnum swore softly, from the opposite side, in wondering admiration, the big fellow rose to his feet and with a mighty tug pulled an inert body clear through the hole. One look at the face was sufficient for identification despite the blood streaming from an ugly gash over the right temple. It was the man called Mike. His eyelids were fluttering. He was recovering consciousness.

"Quick, some of you," gasped Bob, retaining his hold of the body, and holding the fellow up as a fisherman lifts up his catch to admire it; "search him. Get his revolver."

Frank sprang to obey, being the nearest. Running his hands up and down the man's body, he was met only with disappointment. But then he felt something bulky at the belt. It was a revolver in a holster. Stripping off the weapon, he once more ran his hands over the fellow's body and, in a trousers' pocket, found a handful of bullets, which he abstracted.

Mike now began to squirm, and lash out with his heels.

"Got them?" gasped Bob.

"Yes," said Frank. "Searched him twice."

"Then back with you, Mister Mike," said Bob, dropping the other back into the hole. "We want no prisoners on our hands. And, listen," he added, "we've got your revolver. Just tell that to your friends if they get inquisitive and want to follow us."

A curse was his answer. Then they could hear Mike start to scramble back through the tunnel, and to call to his mates.

"My boy," said Captain Folsom, "I want to tell you that was one of the quickest bits of work I've ever seen. You certainly have put a different complexion on matters."

"Oh, that was just a bit of luck," said Bob. "When I heard him groan, it came to me all in a flash what to do."

"Look here," interrupted Frank, "thanks to Bob, we have stalled off pursuit. Besides, we have a revolver now. I don't feel like running off and leaving Jack. The way things have turned out, we can get away without being discovered, anyhow, so we wouldn't be drawing anybody away from Jack's trail if we did go in the opposite direction. Let's run for it before they get a chance to circle back through the tunnel and house, but head for the radio station instead of home. What say?"

"Right," said Captain Folsom. "You chaps certainly know how to use your heads. Come on."

And swinging about, he started running through the trees in the direction taken by Jack a few short minutes before.

They had not gone far, however, before another volley of revolver shots broke out behind them.

"That's at the tunnel again," said Captain Folsom, pausing to listen. "They must realize that we wouldn't stay there, so, although they will be cautious, it won't be long before they come out of the tunnel."

"Yes," said Frank, "and some of them have gotten out already, and are coming down from the house."

For, as he spoke, from farther back in the woods bullets began to fly. The party from the house was shooting as they came.

"I don't think they've seen us yet," said Bob. "The moon is pretty low down and these trees are thick. Anyhow, they wouldn't expect us to take this course, as it is away from our home. Come on."

The shrubbery was less dense now, thinning out, as they neared the clearing in which the radio station was located. Dashing ahead, they cleared the last of the trees and started across the clearing. As they drew nearer the station, heading for the doorway, where the outward-swinging door stood open, Jack saw the four figures in the moonlight and, believing them foes, sprang up from the seat by the instrument table, and dashed out to try to escape.

Running at top speed as he hit the sand, he started in the opposite direction. Bob, however, had an advantage Jack did not possess. He was looking for Jack at the station, and was quick to recognize the familiar figure. Jack, not expecting his friends here, naturally considered the approaching figures those of some of the smugglers.

"Hey, Jack, it's us," Bob called.

Jack knew that voice. There was no mistake. He paused, dumbfounded, and spun about. Then he started to retrace his steps. The others, pretty well blown, slowed down their pace. As they approached, Jack called:

"I wasn't looking for you, and thought you some of the other fellows. How did you happen to change your plans and come here?"

Frank started to explain.

But this was not time for explanations. Paddy Ryan, heading a dozen of his men, had seen the four fleeing through the woods and followed. At this moment the pursuers reached the edge of the clearing. The first intimation which any of the five, engrossed in their meeting, had of the near approach of the enemy, was an outburst of bullets, some of which sang unpleasantly close while others kicked up the sand around them. None, however, took effect.

Where the others had come up with Jack was near a corner of the radio plant. All leaped for cover behind it. With a yell of triumph, Paddy Ryan jumped out into the clearing, his men at his heels.

Frank, who carried the captured revolver and spare ammunition taken from the man called Mike, realized it was distinctly up to him to halt the enemy, if possible. He did not want to shoot to kill, although he knew that the others had no such compunctions, especially since Higginbotham must be aware that if they escaped he would be a ruined man, as they would be able to identify him. Nevertheless, the emergency demanded action.

All this passed through his mind in a twinkling. Then he peered out from behind the shelter of the radio station, took deliberate aim, and fired. The leading figure, that of Paddy Ryan, stumbled, lurched forward and fell. Some of the others in the pursuing party paused, others came on. Once more Frank fired. A second man, the foremost, fell. It was sufficient to deter the others. While some ran back helter-skelter for the shelter of the woods, others threw themselves prone in the sand, and began to shoot from that position.

"I shot them in the legs," said Frank.

His voice trembled. His legs felt weak, his hands numb. It was with an effort he refrained from dropping the revolver. Like his chums, Frank was a crack shot, for Mr. Temple early had accustomed them to the use of rifle and shotgun, and the previous summer in New Mexico Tom Bodine, their cowboy friend, had given all three valuable instructions in revolver shooting. Nevertheless, to take deliberate aim at a human being was unnerving. It was only the realization that the safety of his comrades hung on his aim that had nerved him to the task and steeled his arm.

"Steady, old thing," said Bob, patting him on the shoulder. Then, turning to Captain Folsom, he added: "Well, captain, where do we go from here? We've got all Long Island ahead of us. I expect we had better start traveling."

"Not at all, Bob," said Jack, unexpectedly. "If we can only hold these fellows off a few minutes more, they'll get the surprise of their lives. I raised Lieutenant Summers by radio. He was close offshore by the greatest of good luck. He's sending a landing party in boats, and I was to meet them at the beach and act as guide."



CHAPTER XVII

RESCUE ARRIVES

Tom Barnum had disappeared. Now he ran up from the rear of the radio station.

"Quick, Mister Frank, with that revolver," he said. "They've split up an' the fellows in the woods are trying to work their way around to take us in the rear. I been watchin' from the back side."

Frank nodded and started to follow. Then he spun around, ran again to his former vantage point, and sent a couple of bullets towards the figures in the sand.

"That'll hold 'em there for a minute," he said.

As he ran after Tom Barnum to the other corner of the station on the side which sheltered them, he refilled the emptied chambers of the precious weapon.

"There," said Tom Barnum, crouching low, and pointing.

Frank tried to follow directions but saw nothing. He pressed the revolver into Tom's hand.

"Don't waste time trying to show me," he said. "If you see anybody, shoot."

Tom took the weapon, glanced along the barrel, and pressed the trigger. A yell of pain was the response. Twenty yards away there was a crash in the bushes, then silence.

"Back to the other corner," said Tom, chuckling, and dashed again to the post from which Frank originally had fired.

Frank sat down, with his back against the wall of the station and laughed hysterically.

"Golly, but this is a game of hide and seek, all right," he gasped.

Again the revolver spoke, a yell followed, and then came a rain of bullets.

"Here they come," cried Tom, and in quick succession he pumped out four more shots.

Howls and shrieks of anguish rose. Tom was shooting with deadly intent. The attempted rush was halted, broken. The desperadoes composing the attacking force could not stand before that deadly aim. They broke and ran back toward the trees, leaving three figures groveling in the sand.

"One for Mister Frank, and three for me, them two and one back behind," said Tom Barnum grimly, to Bob and Jack, who were peering over his shoulder. "That ain't so bad."

A cry from Captain Folsom, followed by Frank's voice calling urgently, caused the three to spin around. They were just in time to see one man go down under a terrific blow from the doughty, one-armed officer, while Frank leaped in under the arm of a second desperado, upraised to fire, and brought him crashing down with a flying tackle.

"As pretty as I ever saw," muttered Bob. "Old Frank ought to make the All-American team for that."

Quick as thought, having felled his man, Captain Folsom stooped down and wrenched a revolver from his grasp, then spun about on his knee and fired just as a third rounded the corner. The man toppled forward. By this time Bob and Jack had reached the scene. But the attack from the rear had spent its force. The three most daring evidently had taken the lead. And the way they had been disposed of deterred the others. A half dozen in number, they hung uncertainly in a group along the wall of the radio station.

Captain Folsom helped them make up their minds as to which direction to take by sending several shots over their heads. Without even waiting to reply, they ran for cover toward the trees and bushes at the edge of the clearing.

The man whom Frank had tackled capitulated without a struggle, seeing the fight had gone against him. Frank took his revolver. From the fellow whom Captain Folsom had shot, and who proved to be wounded only in the thigh, Bob obtained a revolver. All except Jack were now armed, and he had the butcher knife which Frank had carried away from the Brownell house, although he laughed as he flourished it.

"The way you fellows treat our friends," he said, "I expect none of them will come close enough to give me a chance to use this."

"Look here," said Captain Folsom, approaching the boys, after having ascertained first that the man whom he had shot had only a flesh wound; "we aren't out of the woods yet. These fellows are determined scoundrels, and they know they can't afford to let us escape. Finding they can't rush us, they will next try to work around through the trees and attack us from this side. I think we had better make a dash around Tom Barnum's corner and get into the radio station."

"But how about my going to the beach to meet Lieutenant Summers?" asked Jack.

"Our position ought to be evident to him," said Captain Folsom. "He can understand what is going on, and come up cautiously. I can't risk having any of you lads run the gauntlet. I've reproached myself a hundred times already for leading you into danger."

"Nonsense, Captain," said Jack. "We volunteered. And we're safe so far, aren't we?"

The other shook his head with a smile of admiration. These boys were made of manly stuff.

"Come," said he, "there is no time to waste. Any minute we may expect to be peppered from the woods on this side. Here, you two," he added, addressing the two unwounded prisoners, "help your pal and march. We're going into the radio station."

The men, young, smooth-shaven and looking like what they were, city toughs, were cowed. Without a word, they moved to obey.

"All clear there, Tom?" asked Captain Folsom of Tom Barnum, who had kept up his watch at the forward end of the side wall.

"If we move fast we can make it," Tom replied. "There's nobody out here in front but the wounded, an' they're crawlin' to cover."

"Good," answered Captain Folsom. "Now, altogether."

A quick dash from cover, and the party was safely within the sending room of the station.

Jack's first move was to ascertain whether any of the enemy had gained entrance to the power house. He approached the connecting door at the rear of the room. It still was closed and locked. Tom Barnum had taken up his post inside the door, which he had swung shut behind him, not, however, until Frank had found and pressed a wall button which switched on a cluster of electric lights overhead.

"Lucky for us there is no other entrance to the power house than through this door," said Jack. "At least there is none, so far as I have seen. If there had been, they might have slipped in that other room, come through here and have gotten close enough to rush us before we could have stopped them."

Captain Folsom approached Tom Barnum, after asking the boys to keep an eye on the prisoners.

"I see you are keeping watch through a crack in the door," he said. "But, I believe we would be better off with the door open entirely. That would give us a clear view of the side from which attack must come. We can push this big table across the doorway, upending it. So." And, suiting action to word, he and Tom dragged the heavy article of furniture into position. "Now let us push the door open," he said.

Just as Tom was about to comply, an outburst of shooting in the clearing split the air.

"Hurray," shouted Jack. "The 'Dry Navy' got on the job. Come on, fellows, open the door."

As Tom Barnum, who had paused in that very act, stunned by this new development, completed the task and the door swung outward, the others crowded to the barrier of the upended table.

Jack's surmise was apparently correct. Along the wall of the radio station were ranged a dozen men. They had been stealing up to pour a hot fire through the door. But Lieutenant Summers with his landing party, drawn to the clearing by the sounds of combat, had made a hurried march up from the beach, and opened fire. His men were advancing across the clearing, scattered out fanwise, crouching and shooting as they came.

Taken by surprise, the smugglers were returning only a ragged fire.

Seeing how matters stood, Captain Folsom directed the table be pulled away and then, commanding the boys to keep in the background, he and Tom Barnum stepped out to the stoop and poured the contents of their revolvers, fast as they could pump them, into the smugglers.

The surprise of the latter was complete. Caught between two fires, they did not know which way to turn. They wavered a moment, then dashed away along the wall of the radio plant in an opposite direction from the door.

As they disappeared among the trees, pursued by a detachment of Lieutenant Summer's men, the latter with a half dozen followers dashed up to the radio plant and, in the lighted doorway, recognized the figure of his colleague, Captain Folsom.

Greetings were exchanged, and then Captain Folsom called the boys forward and introduced them.

"Plucky lads, if ever I met any," he said, warmly, "and resourceful, too. Their ingenuity has pulled us through time and again to-night."

"Not to mention," said Bob, gruffly, "that it was my darned foolishness that got us into this scrape to begin with."

"Nonsense, my boy," said Captain Folsom. "You did only what any of us would have done in jumping that rascal, Higginbotham. Well, now, let us head for the house. Probably that is where these rascals will take refuge. They must be wondering who you are, Lieutenant, and how you happened to appear on the scene."



CHAPTER XVIII

HIGGINBOTHAM ESCAPES

A hasty marshalling of forces was first made. Besides the three boys, Captain Folsom and Tom Barnum, Lieutenant Summers had twelve men under his command. Thus they numbered eighteen in all. It was decided to split this force into two equal parties, one commanded by Lieutenant Summers, the other by Captain Folsom.

Tom Barnum went with Lieutenant Summer's party as guide, the boys with Captain Folsom. They were to move against the front and rear entrances of the house, summon those within to surrender and, if necessary, to blockade the house until surrender was made. As an afterthought, each party detached a man, as they moved up through the woods, to stand guard over the tunnel and thus prevent any who had taken refuge either therein or in the house from making their escape.

As it proved, however, when Paddy Ryan discovered he was besieged by government forces, he surrendered without resistance, together with the half dozen men with him. The others had scattered and made their escape. And when the government forces came to take inventory of their prisoners, it was discovered that among those who had fled was Higginbotham.

"Ye'll get nothin' out of me," said Ryan sullenly, when he was questioned as to Higginbotham's whereabouts. "He beat it away. That's all I know."

Frank's quick eye, however, was caught by the gleam in Ryan's glance, and he suspected the other knew more than he would admit. Drawing his chums to one side, he said in a low voice:

"Look here, fellows, I believe Higginbotham is hiding in one of two places. Either he is up in the attic, in that secret passage through which we made our escape from the dark room, or else hiding in the tunnel."

"Maybe you're right," said Bob. "But we couldn't ferret him out alone. If he is hiding in either place, he is armed, and would have us at his mercy. A desperate man would shoot. I believe we would be foolhardy to take such a chance."

"Let's ask Captain Folsom's advice," suggested Jack, sensibly.

Waiting an opportunity, they beckoned Captain Folsom aside and Frank propounded his suspicions. The latter looked thoughtful.

"I agree with Temple," he said, emphatically. "I am glad you boys told me of this and did not attempt to make a search by yourselves. Let me see, however, if we cannot evolve some scheme to bring the rascal out, provided he is in hiding in one or other of these places."

Facing about, he called:

"Ryan, come here."

The leader of the smugglers, who stood lined up with his men, including the negro, Mike and Pete, against the wall, under guard, stepped forward.

Quickly Captain Folsom explained his suspicions as to where Higginbotham might be in hiding. Then he added:

"Higginbotham knows your voice. I want you to go to whichever place he may be hiding and summon him to come out and surrender. Say that if he refuses, I shall not imperil the lives of any of my men by sending them to dig him out, but shall starve him into submission."

There was a slight smile of triumph on Paddy Ryan's face as he replied:

"Sure, an' I'll go to both places an' whistle in the wind. But it's in nather place he is, for he did not return to the house, I'm tellin' ye."

"Do as I say, Ryan," commanded Captain Folsom, shortly. "Try the attic first. The tunnel is guarded, I may as well tell you, and Higginbotham cannot make his escape that way."

"All right. You're the captain," said Ryan. "Follow me."

As he turned to proceed up the steps, after ordering two sailors to accompany Ryan, Captain Folsom said to the boys and Lieutenant Summers, who had joined the party:

"From the way Ryan is acting, I believe he is trying to throw us off the scent, and that Higginbotham really is hidden hereabouts."

No reply, however, was received in response to Ryan's announcement of the ultimatum laid down by Captain Folsom, both at the secret passage under the roof and the other underground.

"Very well," said Captain Folsom, lips compressed, at the failure of his stratagem. "We shall post guards here until we can decide what to do."

Ryan therefore was returned to keep company with the other prisoners under guard in the big living room. In another room the two officers, together with the boys, gathered for a consultation. Tom Barnum, meantime, seeing that dawn had come, and that the first faint streaks of daylight were beginning to light up the woods outside, left the knot of sailors to whom he had been recounting the events of that exciting night and re-entering the house called Jack aside.

"Mister Jack," he said. "It'll be broad day in another hour. Don't you think I had better go back and tell the Temples and your housekeeper what's become of you three and of Captain Folsom, too. If they happen to notice you're missin' they'll be worried."

"Right, Tom," approved Jack. "But do you think it's safe for you to make the trip alone? Some of these fellows may be lurking in the woods."

"Oh," said Tom, "it'll soon be daylight, as I said. Besides, I'll be on the beach. And, anyhow, why should any of them attack me? They'll be runnin' like hares to get away, and none of 'em will be around here."

Thereupon Tom set out, and Jack returned to the conference. On his re-entry, he learned the two officers had decided to remove the liquor in the cellar to the beach and thence by boat to the Nark, as the easiest method for getting it to New York and the government warehouses for the storage of confiscated contraband. A sailor appointed to inspect the premises had reported finding a large truck and a narrow but sufficiently wide road through the woods to the beach. Evidently, it was by this method that liquor had been brought from the beach to the house on occasion.