Tony was as good as his word. When Frank and Joe appeared at the little boathouse, one of a long row of ramshackle buildings along the shore, next afternoon, they found Tony clad in a greasy suit of overalls, tinkering with the engine. He was of a mechanical turn of mind and could never see an engine of any kind without investigating its most intricate machinery.
“She’ll run as smoothly as a sewing machine,” he declared, looking up. “We can start any time.”
“Your father let you have the boat, all right.”
“You bet. I told him it was to help find your father, and he was almost going to quit work and come along with us.”
The boys got into the motorboat, which was a rangy, powerful craft with graceful lines, and the engine was soon roaring. The boat, which was called the Napoli in honor of Mr. Prito’s birthplace in Italy, moved slowly out into the waters of the bay and then gathered speed as it headed toward the gloomy cliffs at the northern extremity of Barmet Bay.
It was already late in the afternoon. The sky was overcast and the bay was rough. The salt spray dashed over the bows of the Napoli as it plunged on through the breakers. Bayport soon became a smoky haze on the hillside. The boys could see the white line of the shore road rising and falling on the coast to the north and at last they came within sight of the Kane farm, nestled among the trees.
The cliff upon which the Polucca place stood was stark and sheer against the background of ocean and sky, and at the top they could see the grove of trees and the roof and chimneys of the haunted house.
“Lonely looking place,” remarked Joe.
“Pretty steep cliff,” Tony observed. “I can’t see how anyone could make his way up and down that slope to get to the house.”
“That’s just why nobody has thought of the possibility of the place as a smuggling base,” said Frank, “It doesn’t look possible. But perhaps when we look around we’ll find that things are different.”
Tony steered the boat closer in toward the shore so that it would not be visible from the Polucca place. Then he slackened speed so that the roar of the engine would not be so noticeable, and the craft made its way along toward the bottom of the cliff.
There were currents here that demanded skilful navigation, but Tony brought the Napoli through them easily and at last the boat was surging along close to the face of the cliff. The boys scanned the formidable wall of rock eagerly.
It was scarred and seamed and at the base had been eaten away by the battering of the waves. Time passed, and there was no indication of a path and the lads were disappointed.
The cliff jutted up out of very deep water and rose to a great height. From the boat they were unable to see the Polucca place, for it was set in a short distance from the edge of the cliff. The face of the steep rock was uncompromising. There seemed to be no foothold for man or beast. It was just an unscalable, craggy wall.
Suddenly Tony bore down on the wheel. The Napoli swerved swiftly to one side and at the same time the engine roared as the craft leaped ahead.
Frank and Joe looked quickly around.
“What’s the matter?” they asked, in alarm.
But Tony was gazing fixedly ahead. He was tense and alert. Another shift of the wheel and the Napoli swerved again.
Then the Hardy boys saw the danger.
There were rocks at the base of the cliff. One of them, black and sharp, like an ugly tooth, jutted out of the water almost immediately at the side of the boat. Only Tony’s quick eye had saved them from striking against it. They had blundered into a veritable maze of reefs which extended for several yards ahead.
They held their breath.
It seemed impossible that they could run the gauntlet of those rocks without tearing the bottom out of the craft. But Tony’s steermanship was marvelous. The motorboat threaded its way accurately among the jutting rocks. There was always the chance that a submerged reef might rip through the hull of the craft, but they had to take chances on that.
But luck was with them. The Napoli dodged the last ugly rock, and shot forward into open water.
Tony sank back with a sigh of relief.
“Whew, that was close!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t see those rocks until we were right on top of them. If we’d ever struck one of them we would have been goners.”
The Hardy boys believed him. Angry waves dashed against the base of the cliff. They would not have lived more than a few minutes if they had been wrecked in this place. They would have been battered to pieces against the rocks.
Suddenly, before them, they saw an opening in the side of the cliff. It was a long, narrow cove.
The entrance was like the neck of a bottle, widening as it led into the cliff, and it was overshadowed by jutting rocks. It had been quite invisible up to this time, and the boat had gone only a few yards further before it became invisible again, so well was the opening hidden by the rocks.
“Here’s a find!” exclaimed Frank, in excitement. “Let’s turn back and see where this goes to.”
Tony swung the boat around and the craft slowly made its way back toward the hidden cove. Soon the opening in the cliff came into view again.
“It’s just large enough for the boat to go through,” said Tony. “Want me to try it?”
Frank nodded.
“Go ahead.”
The nose of the boat turned toward this strange bay and then the Napoli began to enter the cove.
“Maybe I won’t be able to get out again,” said Tony suddenly. He looked ahead. But the passage widened into a bay of considerable extent,
