CHAPTER XIX
THE FIRST CAPTURE
Atherton's first impulse was to regain his feet and jump overboard. By so doing he knew that he would run no personal risks, since Bill and his companion in crime could not possibly capture him, even if they went to the length of leaping into the sea dressed as they were, in their clothes and sea-boots. But, on the other hand, the Scout realised that, if discovered, the confederates of the rascally butler would make haste and clear off in the yacht, and the whole chance of capturing both the rogues and their booty would receive a serious set back.
With these thoughts flashing through his mind, Atherton pulled several folds of the staysail over his recumbent form, as, fortunately for him, the slothful crew had lowered the sail and had neglected to stow or even secure it. His chief anxiety was that Phillips, finding that his companion had not followed him, would climb on board again, or, equally as bad, raise a premature alarm.
Second Phillips was made of the right stuff. Since Atherton had not called for aid he felt convinced that his Leader was still keeping Bill under observation. Holding on to the bob-stay, and keeping close to the bows of the yacht, Phillips waited, chin deep in water, either till the expected shout for assistance came or else till Atherton got clear of the mysterious craft.
With many muttered curses the truculent Bill ascended the short companion-ladder and gained the deck. Pulling back the hatch he remained by the companion, his gaze directed towards the frowning cliffs by the Tea Caves.
"Two more cursed hours!" muttered the man, loudly enough for the Scout to overhear.
"Wot's 'e got to be afraid of I should like to know. Well, any'ow, to-night'll see the last o' the swag safe aboard."
Atherton felt a quiver of excitement pass through his frame. If the silver were to be recovered the opportunity was at hand. There was little time to be lost. To send for the assistance of the local police and the coastguards might result in the scoundrels "getting the wind of it."
It must be the Scouts to whom the credit of recovering Sir Silas Gwinnear's plate must fall.
The seaman was coming for'ard. From his place of concealment, Atherton could hear his heavy footfall upon the yielding deck. Would it be possible that the fellow had any suspicions that some one in addition to his mate was on board?
In any case the Scout realised that he must evade capture. Nearer and nearer came the man. Atherton prepared to spring from his hiding-place arid leap into the sea, but to his great relief Bill turned on his heel and retraced his footsteps.
"He's going to pace the deck for the next hour or so, I suppose," thought Atherton. "A nice pickle we are in: Phillips shivering in the water and I doing ditto under a damp sail."
But Atherton was wrong in his surmise. The fellow took two or three turns up and down the deck, gave another glance shorewards and then whispered to his companion to "douse the glim again."
With the utmost satisfaction Atherton heard the seaman push back the hatch. His heavy sea-boots grated on the brass stair-treads; and then, with a vicious bang, the hatch was shut once more.
Rising from his place of concealment, Atherton lowered himself into the water, and the two lads began their shoreward swim; at first in silence, and then, as soon as a safe distance had been covered, they conversed in low tones.
"We're in luck, Atherton."
"Yes, if things turn out all right. I wonder what Mr Buckley will suggest?"
"No doubt he will order the boats to be manned, and we'll have to try our chances with Bill and his pal. It's fortunate we know his gun isn't loaded. Here, Phillips, are we heading the right way? I don't see the place where we climbed down."
"The tide must be setting in by now," replied Phillips. "We're being swept away to the west'ard. I vote we swim straight for shore and then keep close to it until we come to the right spot. The tide won't run so strong inshore."
"You lads have been a long time," remarked Mr Buckley, as the two Scouts, tired with their exertions, scrambled on to the ledge where the Scoutmaster had been anxiously awaiting their reappearance.
"It's all right, sir," exclaimed Atherton; "we've found out something": and as briefly and explicitly as he could the Scout related what had occurred on board the yacht.
"You're quite right, Atherton," said Mr Buckley, when the Leader had finished his report. "Something must be done at once. It is now close on twelve o'clock. You're both dressed? Good. Shin up the rope, Phillips; it will take three of you to haul me up, I am afraid."
As soon as the Scoutmaster and the two Scouts had reached the summit of the cliff, a hasty palaver was held and a rough plan of action decided upon. Green was despatched to the camp to turn out the "Wolves," who were to double to the place where the Scoutmaster awaited them.
"That's good, Simpson," said Mr Buckley, as the patrol turned up in fine fettle. "You left the Tenderfoots in camp? Hayes and Coventry, take that flashing lamp and call up the coastguard at Refuge Point. Tell them that there's a yacht lying off the Tea Caves, and that her crew are going to remove the stolen silver. The rest of us had better make tracks for the Tea Caves as soon as possible. Since Tassh is concealed in the inner one—that is what you heard, I believe, Atherton?—we ought to nab him as he squeezes through the narrow passage between the two divisions. Now, Scouts, silence is essential as soon as we gain the ledge."
One by one the "Wolves" descended by means of the rope; then the Scoutmaster was lowered by the "Otters," who brought up the rear of the expedition. Treading cautiously, the Scouts crept in single file towards the rascally butler's lair.
Within the caves all was quiet. If Tassh lay concealed in the innermost one he gave no sign of his presence. Apparently he had learnt a certain amount of caution, for all tracks between the mouth of the cave and the narrow "needle's-eye" communicating with the two divisions were carefully obliterated.
Without a word being spoken the Scouts took up their allotted positions: Simpson and the 1st and 2nd class Scouts of his patrol stationed themselves on either side of the entrance to the inner cave; Atherton and the available "Otters" hid in a deep recess just inside the outer entrance; while Mr Buckley remained without in order to keep the yacht under observation.
Slowly, in utter silence, the hours passed. Although the Scoutmaster could not see the time by his watch, he felt fairly convinced that it could not be much past midnight. To the waiting Scouts the period of waiting seemed interminable.
At length the Scouts pricked up their ears. From the depths of the inner cave came an uncanny sound. As Simpson afterwards described it, it was like the armoured body of an enormous crab grating over the rocks. This was followed by the deep breathing of a man who had been put to great physical strain. Then came the stealthy footfalls of some one walking over the dry sand that formed the floor of the cave.
Simpson and the "Wolves" were tingling with excitement.
It was Tassh.
The rascally butler began to crawl through the "needle's eye." Once or twice he paused, as if scenting danger; then, drawing himself clear, he regained his feet.
It was as much as the "Wolves" could do to restrain themselves from falling upon and overpowering their quarry, since the man stood almost within arm's length of Simpson on the one hand and Neale on the other. But to do this would be acting prematurely. Unless otherwise compelled to tackle their man, the Scouts were content to let him alone until he had lured Bill and his companions ashore. So, crouching behind the huge boulders that had at some time fallen from the roof of the cave, the lads watched Tassh stealthily make his way towards the entrance.
"I wonder if he'll spot Mr Buckley," thought Simpson. But the Scoutmaster was too wary for that. He had clambered upon a narrow ledge seven feet above the main path, whence he could command a view of the cave and the sea as well as the misty starlight would permit.
"Oh, there you are, my fine fellow," muttered Mr Buckley, as Tassh, looking anxiously along the main ledge that gave access to the caves, emerged into the open, utterly ignorant of the fact that seven of the "Otters" were within ten yards of him and that a few inches above his head the Scoutmaster had him under observation.
Still Tassh hesitated. He even walked a few paces along the ledge, and scanned the rugged cliffs above his head. At length, drawing a portable electric lamp from his pocket, he flashed it twice in quick succession in the direction of the yacht.
This signal was instantly replied to by the light of a match. The Scoutmaster could see the gleam light up the features of the man Bill. To guard against causing suspicion the fellow was pretending to light a pipe, twice closing his fingers over the flickering match in order to reassure the ex-butler that his message was understood.
Tassh waited no longer. He turned and literally sneaked back to his den, none of the Scouts attempting to bar his passage.
Another ten minutes passed. There were no further signs of movement on the yacht. The Scoutmaster began to wonder whether 'Tassh's signal was intended to mean that he was suspicious about something, to defer the visit of Bill and his companion in crime until another night.
"I wish they'd hurry up," soliloquised Mr Buckley. "I shouldn't wonder if the coastguard boat doesn't turn up soon and nab them. It's a pity. I wish I had told Hayes not to signal quite so soon. The Scouts will only share the fruits of victory, I am afraid."
Just then came the sound of a splash in the water. The crew of the yacht had dragged a collapsible boat from the cabin and had launched it over the side.
The Scoutmaster waited till the boat was fairly close inshore, then, having made certain that only one man was on board, he silently slipped from his post of observation and rejoined Atherton and the "Otters" in the recess by the mouth of the cave.
Grasping Atherton's hand the Scoutmaster, by means of a series of long and short grips, spelled out a message in Morse.
"Man coming: tackle him on entering cave."
The Leader signified that the message was understood, and passed it on to Phillips, who in turn communicated it to Green and Mayne. Before the remaining "Otters" could be informed, the man from the yacht was heard scaling the cliff between the water's edge and the ledge.
With a strange sensation in his throat, Atherton braced himself for the onslaught. He could hear the partially suppressed breathing of his companions and the rapidly approaching steps of Tassh's nocturnal visitor. The patch of starlit sky at the mouth of the cave was darkened by the hulking figure of Bill.
Unhesitatingly the fellow advanced into the cave, then drawing an electric torch from his pocket he flashed it ahead to guide his footsteps. The beam of light fell, not upon the sanded floor, but upon the figure of the Scoutmaster standing full in his path.
With a muttered oath, Bill threw down the canvas bag, hurled his lamp at Mr Buckley, and turned to seek safety in flight.
Up from their hiding-place the "Otters" ran as one man and threw themselves upon the rogue. Bill's fist shot out straight at Atherton's chin, but luckily for the Scout it was light enough for him to see to parry the blow. Down went Bill, struggling and raving like a madman, with his six youthful yet active assailants on to him like a pack of bulldogs.
"Chuck it," growled Bill sullenly, as Atherton applied an arm-lock. "Chuck it orl you'll break my bloomin' arm. I gives in."
Securely bound hand and foot the prisoner was carried out into the open. The first phase of the capture of the robbers of Sir Silas Gwinnear's silver was effected.
"Now, lads!" exclaimed Mr Buckley, "that's number one. 'Wolves'! Keep watch over the inner cave; we'll rout out Mr Tassh later on. Everest and Baker stand by the prisoner. The rest of the 'Otters' follow me. We must board the yacht and capture the remaining member of the crew."