“Where do we go from here?” inquired Joe.
“Anywhere but into caves,” his brother replied. “I think we might as well follow along the shore again. One thing is certain—there have been people on this island, and not long ago at that. Why—”
Suddenly he stopped.
“Listen.”
They remained quiet. Frank had heard what seemed to him like a distant shout, and as they listened he heard it again. It was a faint call that echoed among the rocks far ahead of them.
The boys looked at one another. Frank pressed his fingers against his lips as a caution to remain silent. Then, from among the rocks above them they heard another shout, clearer this time, evidently in response to the one they had first heard. The first shout was again repeated; then silence fell.
“That proves it,” said Frank quietly. “There are people on this island.”
“They’re calling to each other.”
“Sounded like that.”
“We’ll head down in the direction of the place that first shout came from. It was someone calling to someone else back up here among the rocks.”
They went on in the direction from which the first call had been heard. For over ten minutes they proceeded carefully among the rocks until finally Frank caught sight of a curling column of smoke against the sky.
“Campfire,” he said.
To approach this fire it was necessary for them to change their course and go up through the shrubbery toward higher ground. They moved slowly because they did not want to be seen until they had ascertained whether the strangers were friends or foes—and they were strongly suspicious that it might prove to be the latter.
A moving object ahead caught Frank’s eye and he crouched down in the bushes, motioning to Joe. They peeped through the undergrowth and before them they could see a flat surface of rock in the center of which a fire had been built. Three men were about the fire. Two of these were sprawled in the grass at the verge of the rock while one was standing beside the fire stirring the contents of a pot that hung from a tripod above the blaze. It was this man that had first caught Frank’s eye.
The strangers had not noticed the Hardy boys’ approach.
“We’ll crawl up closer,” whispered Joe.
Frank nodded.
They began to make their way quietly forward through the bushes. Frank, who was in the lead, kept a wary eye for snakes and also kept watching the three men about the fire. The boys’ approach demanded the utmost caution.
Foot by foot they made their way closer to the trio about the blaze until at last they were so close that they could distinguish what the men were saying. Also, they could distinguish the faces of the speakers.
They were the three men who had been in the motorboat the day of the storm in Barmet Bay!
Although the boys had expected this, they could scarcely restrain murmurs of astonishment. This proved definitely that the motorboat they had seen that morning was the same motorboat that had followed them in Barmet Bay.
The boys listened.
“No answer to that letter yet, is there?” one man was asking.
The fellow by the fire shook his head.
“No answer yet. Oh, well, we can wait.”
“We can’t wait forever,” grumbled the other. “I’m not keen on staying on this confounded island much longer.”
“There’s lots worse places,” remarked the man at his side significantly.
“What do you mean?”
“Jail.”
“Oh, I suppose so. But I wish this business would get cleared up. I want to get back to the city and have a good time.”
“We all want to get back. But there’s no use rushing things,” said the man standing by the fire. “We’ll be well paid for our waiting.”
“Do you think we’ve made a mistake? I tell you, it’s been worrying me. If we’ve gummed up this job by doing a trick like that I’ll never forgive myself.”
“No—there’s no mistake. Don’t worry about that,” scoffed the man at the fire. “Didn’t we look things over mighty careful-like before we started?”
“Yes,” admitted the other slowly. “But they keep harpin’ on that tune all the time and I’m beginnin’ to think there may be somethin’ in it.”
“Where’s Red?” demanded the third man. “Didn’t you call him?”
“Yeah, I called him. This is him now. He’s comin’ down from the grove.”
Suddenly Frank clutched his brother by the arm and flattened himself against the ground. A footstep sounded immediately behind them. Twigs crackled.
Unobserved, a man had approached to within a few feet back of them, striding silently through the deep grass.
The boys remained motionless, wondering if they had been seen. For a breathless second they lay rigid in the bushes, then the footsteps passed by within a few inches of Frank’s outstretched hand. They heard his deep voice:
“When did you all get back?”
“Just a few minutes ago,” replied the man at the fire. “We left the boat in the bay. Anything new?”
“Nothing new,” growled the deep voice. “The prisoners are still safe and sound.” One of the other men chuckled.
“Have they quieted down yet?”
“No!” growled the newcomer. “They kicked up a big fuss all the time you were away. Still keep sayin’ we’ve made a mistake.”
“Mistake, nothin’!” the man by the fire declared. “There’s been no mistake about this job! They can’t fool me!”
XIV
The Storm
The four men had dinner about the campfire and when the meal was over the man they called Red got up.
“May as well go back to the cave,” he remarked. “It’s cooler than out here.”
“It’s hot enough to put a man to sleep out on these rocks,” said one of the others. “Yeah, let’s
