WHAT JOE DID.

Joe raised Santa Barbara and flashed out the news which he wanted transmitted to the local authorities. In a short time a word of thanks came back and positive assurance that they would set out without delay for the Dolliver ranch. Nat and Joe felt somewhat relieved at this. They knew only too well Ding-dong’s proclivities for getting into trouble, and if he was off after Minory by himself he had done a peculiarly fool-hardy thing.

“We’ve done all we can, anyhow,” said Nat, “and now the best thing to turn our minds to, is that schooner. I think there is not much doubt now that she is here to do harm to us.”

“All the indications point that way,” agreed Joe.

Twice during the afternoon Nate tramped down to the point to see if the schooner was still hove to, and both times he returned with the report that she was still in the same position, although the rain flaws were blowing over the ocean so thickly that at times it was hard to make her out.

Not until the evening meal had been despatched was anything said about laying out the work for the night. It was Nat who broached the subject.

“Joe,” he said, “it has just occurred to me that something may be known of this schooner in Santa Barbara. Suppose you connect with the operator there and see if you can get hold of old Captain Merryweather. He’s a sort of port official and should know if this schooner left there recently.”

“That’s a good idea,” indorsed Joe; “but in the meanwhile what will you be doing, for I see that you have some plan in your head?”

“Well, this is the way I’ve figured it out,” said Nat. “If the folks on that schooner mean to make a landing to-night, depend upon it they’ll come ashore in the cove.”

“Not a doubt of it,” struck in Nate.

“With the sea that is running, there’s not another place on the island where they could land. Within the cove, however, is quiet water and an easy sloping beach to run a boat ashore.”

“Then you think the schooner is still there, Nat?” asked Joe.

“Not a doubt of it in my mind. However, I mean to make sure in a very short time. Nate, I want you to go down to the point and see what you can make out of the suspicious craft. I’ll go down to the cove and turn the skiff over to make a shelter. You can report back to me there. Joe will remain by the wireless till he gets some reply to his message to Captain Merryweather. Then he’ll join us there, too, unless something new and unexpected has turned up by that time.”

Joe would much rather have accompanied Nat, but he said nothing and turned cheerfully to his duty. Like Ding-dong, he had grown accustomed to look upon Nat as a leader, and he obeyed unhesitatingly his orders. Nat and Nate trudged out into the storm and Joe seated himself at the apparatus to carry out his appointed task.

The operator was able to inform him that the authorities had already set out for the Dolliver ranch, and that he would keep him posted as to further developments. Joe then transmitted his message to Captain Merryweather. This done, he disconnected and sat down to await a reply.

Above him he could hear the wind screaming and screeching through the aerials and the steady downpour of the rain on the roof. It seemed hours, and was, in reality, about an hour and a half, before he got a reply to his message.

“Captain Merryweather has learned that a small schooner put into Santa Barbara last night,” was the dispatch. “She must have left some time before dawn. A dockman reports that he saw three strange men being rowed out to her in a dory a short time before she sailed. That is all he can find out.”

“Three men; that sounds like old Captain Israel and his two sons,” mused Joe, as he cut off. “The schooner may either belong to them or to some of their friends; it’s hard telling, but at any rate Captain Merryweather’s information sounds important. I’ll hurry down to Nat with it.”

He extinguished the light and slipped out into the storm. He half ran, half stumbled to the cove, filled with the importance of his mission. But somewhat to his alarm, there was no Nat and no Nate there. Joe began to feel seriously uneasy. It was not like Nat to fail to be at the place he had appointed for a meeting, more particularly as Joe knew his chum would be waiting for a reply to the Santa Barbara message with some anxiety.

However, there was nothing for it but to wait, and Joe, with what resignation he could muster, sat down in the dark under the shelter of the dory, while about him the storm raged and howled. Under the upturned boat he was snug and dry, and if he could have lighted a fire of driftwood he would have been quite warm. But he knew that was out of the question. To do such a thing would be to betray at once that they were on the watch.

Presently there came the sound of hurrying footsteps on the sand. Joe’s heart gave a quick leap, but the next instant he was reassured. It was Nat and Nate.

“Where have you been?” asked Joe anxiously. “You gave me a fine scare when I came down here and found you gone. I thought old Israel must have kidnapped you again.”

“I’ve been down to the point with Nate,” rejoined Nat. “The schooner has just got under way. From her tactics we both believe that she is heading round for the cove.”

“Wow! It looks like trouble then.”

“I’m afraid so. No vessel would lie to in an open roadstead all day and then run into a sheltered cove at night unless she wished the cover of darkness for her work, whatever it is.”

“Humph, I haven’t much doubt what that work is,” grunted Nate laconically.

“Heard from Santa Barbara?” inquired Nat of Joe, as he and Nate joined him under the boat.

“Yes; that’s what brought me down here. A small schooner answering the description of the one that lay at anchor all day off the island left the port last night after taking on three men.”

“Three men; that surely sounds like old Israel and his two precious sons.”

“That is what I thought. It clinches the matter in my mind.”

“Coupled with the actions of the schooner, I’ve reached the same conclusion,” said Nat.

“How long will it take the schooner to get around here, do you think?” asked Joe presently.

“Oh, quite a while yet,” responded Nate. “She’s got to beat up against the wind and take several tacks to make it.”

“To my mind that fact again puts this up to Harley,” said Nat. “He knows this island like a book, Nate says, and could get into the cove at any hour of the day or night. A stranger would never take a chance on running in in the dark.”

“Particularly on a night like this,” said Joe, as a long, shuddering blast of wind swept over the upturned boat.

Nat crept out from the shelter and made his way toward the cove. He was back in a short time with information that thrilled them all.

“The schooner is coming into the cove,” he announced in a tense voice.

“Now the show is a-goin’ to begin to commence,” muttered Nate under his breath. “Better get that gun of yours, Nat. Joe and I will do the best we can with our fists and oars in case there’s a scrimmage.”