  For the barest second Haddon stood listening. Then he bent down again and made a frantic, scrambling effort to cover the tins. But as the voices came steadily nearer and the scuffling of feet began to sound in the dead leaves, he abandoned the attempt and darting a few steps to one side flung himself down behind a thick, low-growing mass of laurel. In a space so brief that he felt they must have heard him, the bushes were thrust aside and the footsteps ceased. “—a rabbit, I guess, or maybe a bird,” said a voice. “It don’t matter, anyway. Here’s the stuff, half uncovered, too. Hang that Peters! I told him to— Here, catch hold, will you? We haven’t much time.” “Want it in the boat?” “Sure! The chief is going to leave in about an hour. We’ll land at Cobb’s Point and wait there till dark. Here’s a couple for you, Jansen. We’ll take the rest in another trip.” Flat on the ground behind the laurel clump, Steve listened intently to their departing footsteps. Not daring to stir, he had failed to get even a glimpse of the three men, but he missed no word of their brief conversation which left him in a state of bewildered doubt and speculation. He could make nothing out of it at all. What was in those tins? and why were they being taken secretly to Cobb’s Point, that lonely strip of sand dunes the other side of Shelbourne? As he lay there waiting, a good many possibilities flashed through the boy’s mind. He could not rid himself of the feeling that the men were up to nothing good. Yet on the other hand he realized that even the broken door and the hidden tins might have some harmless explanation. There was a fish hatchery, for instance, at Shelbourne, and it came upon him with a sudden sense of chagrin, that he had seen the young fish shipped from there in just such tins as these. Nevertheless, the feeling of suspicion remained uppermost, even though the men, on their second trip, let fall no enlightening words. When they finally departed, he emerged from hiding, a look of determination on his square jawed face, and headed for the spot where he had left the canoe. At least it was in his power to follow up the matter if he chose; and he did choose. He knew where they were going, and he knew Cobb’s Point. He could reach it before they did, and by concealing himself among the dunes, he might get a chance not only to glimpse again the face of the man he so wished to see, but also to learn something further of the party’s purpose. As he hurried along, Steve realized that through the woods shadows were deepening on every hand, while in the glades and open spots the light had a curious greenish-saffron tint that urged him to his utmost speed. Emerging finally on the shore he saw that there was no time to lose. The sun had disappeared. Above him the sky glowed with an unnatural light, while piled up in the east were great banks of black, ragged looking clouds. For a moment Steve hesitated, measuring with his eye the distance of those clouds. Then he dragged out the canoe, dropped it hastily into the water, climbed in and thrust away from shore. Among the islands the current was swift, but even there he did not spare his paddle. And every little while he glanced backwards apprehensively. As he left the shelter of the islands and faced a mile-wide stretch of open water, the cloud-bank was half way up from the horizon with long, ragged streamers stretching out before it. He thrust his paddle deep and sent the canoe leaping across the oily swells; but like the tentacles of an octopus, those cloud streamers seemed to reach after him, dragging the black, ominous bulk behind. Half a mile he made, the sweat standing out on his face, his breath coming in gasps. Another quarter mile. He was paddling with every scrap of strength and skill he had, yet the clouds were overhead now, reaching out and onward inexorably. A hundred yards from shore he hazarded a backward glance and saw the wind sweeping across the bay, a line of turbulent, tossing spray. It caught him with incredible swiftness, hurled the canoe forward, whirled it about, and before Steve could realize what was happening, he found himself struggling in the water. He lost his paddle, but managed to retain a grip on the canoe, and swimming in a sort of daze, he finally dragged himself and it ashore. There, utterly done up, he flung himself face downward on the sand and lay for he knew not how long, drawing in the air in long, gasping gulps. At length, still panting, he raised his head and slowly gained his feet. The surface of the bay was torn into a sea of angry, tossing whitecaps. The wind shrieked past him, driving gusts of fine spray into his face. Darkness was falling fast, relieved now and again by a vivid flash of lightning. Uncertain whether the men would venture across in the teeth of the storm, Steve felt that if they did make the attempt they might appear at any moment. So he made haste to drag the canoe back of a mass of beach grass. It was as well he did. Scarcely had he flung himself down beside the upturned keel and hunched his shoulders against the driving rain which had begun to pelt him, when out of the curtain of mist and shadow the dory flashed suddenly into his startled consciousness. He heard nothing of the engine; the shrieking of the wind and the first rattle of thunder drowned every sound. He simply saw, by the aid of the lightning and his straining vision, the bow of the dory, billows of foam spreading out on either side, cleaving the waves not fifty feet from shore. In another moment he heard the crunch and grating of the boat beaching, followed by a confused mingling of voices. It was not yet absolutely dark and by this time his eyes were accustomed to the scene. Presently he could make out a number of shadowy figures bunched together and bending over. They were dragging the dory up the beach; he could tell that by their strained attitudes and their slow approach. Nearer they came to the screen of grass and nearer still, for not so much by chance as from the extreme narrowness of the point, they had landed at almost the same spot as Steve. Now he could make out the party quite clearly, black silhouettes against the grayish black of the sea behind them. They had halted now, not half a dozen feet from his hiding place, and were bending over the dory taking out the tins. Their backs were toward him, but as Steve lay there blinded by the flashes of lightning and deafened by the rolls of thunder, he felt, somehow, that on the contents of those tins hung the solution of his mystery. If he could only find out that, and the identity of the man who had drawn him hither, he would know something of where he stood. Though he could distinguish nothing save their outlines, his eyes had not left the four men for an instant. He even raised himself a little and parted the screen of beach grass in an effort to keep track of their movements. Presently he saw that they had straightened up. Apparently they had removed all the tins, and he wondered eagerly what would be the next step. Then, of a sudden, as they stood there, another jagged fork of light flashed through the dark storm clouds, and Steve caught his breath and narrowly escaped crying out in sheer amazement. The blinding glare showed him two of the men erect and partly facing him; but it did more than that. It awakened memory at last. And as the blackness settled down again, thick and stifling, the rain, the wind, the whole wild, storm-swept strip of coast vanished. The darkness remained, but it was the tempered darkness of a street in Washington the night of that thrilling day over a year ago—the day after the declaration of war. Back of some iron palings loomed the outlines of the German embassy. Beside the curb stood a limousine from which two men had just alighted. As Steve, hurrying home from a belated engagement, came opposite them, their faces were illumined brilliantly for a moment by the glare of a passing headlight. One of those men was the German Ambassador himself. The other— No wonder Steve Haddon had almost betrayed himself at what that lightning flash revealed. No wonder he asked himself breathlessly, excitedly, what sinister business could have brought that other—here. |
|
