CHAPTER XVIII
HOT ON THE TRAIL
The more Atherton thought about one of the crew of the mysterious yacht the more he became convinced that the fellow was Sir Silas Gwinnear's assailant.
After dinner, seizing a favourable opportunity, the lad approached his Scoutmaster on the subject.
"You're falling a victim to the powers of suggestion, I'm afraid, Atherton," remarked Mr Buckley. "When you first mentioned the matter to me you said you thought he was the man. Now, after ruminating, you come to the conclusion that he must be the culprit. Such definite conclusions based upon flimsy suppositions are dangerous. Over and over again one reads of cases of persons being wrongly arrested owing to definite yet mistaken zeal on the part of an impressionable constable. Now, for example, what do you suggest would be the best course to adopt? Inform the police?"
"Yes, sir; my idea is that he should not be allowed to slip through our fingers, so to speak."
"And if the fellow gives a perfectly corroborated statement, and claims damages for illegal arrest, where would the funds of the troop go, eh? No, no, Atherton, we must get to work more cautiously. I am quite in agreement with you that the action of these two men on the yacht is suspicious, and that they ought to be kept under observation. All the same, I do not like the idea of so much night work. Before I took over for Mr Trematon, you had more than one restless night."
"If it has to be done, sir, it must be," replied Atherton earnestly. "The other fellows are of the same mind."
"Very well, so long as the yacht remains of the Island we will keep her under observation. I'll send Simpson and the 'Wolves' out till sunset, and then the 'Otters' can carry on till morning. Only, mind you, it is to be distinctly understood that your patrol must rest this afternoon and also to-morrow morning. Seven hours' sleep in every twenty-four is essential."
"Very good, sir," said Atherton.
"And," continued Mr Buckley, "I mean to take the night watch with you. We must find a likely spot whence we can command the approach to the Tea Caves as well as the yacht. Now tell the 'Otters' to turn in. No talking, mind. I'll see that Simpson has his instructions, and then I'll have a nap myself."
Two hundred yards to the south-west of the Tea Caves a rocky headland afforded all the shelter the Scouts required. The place seemed as if it had been a Titan's playground, for huge flat boulders, some weighing more than twenty tons, had been piled up in picturesque and even grotesque formations. On one group of rocks the Scouts had bestowed the name of "The Mushrooms," and the designation was not inapplicable. Three separate columns, composed of discshaped rocks twelve feet in diameter, rose to the height of twelve feet above the general ground level. On the summit of these were still broader rocks with slightly rounded upper surfaces, their edges overlapping the bases by three to five feet, and two of the top rocks touched each other; the third was separated from the other by a space of less than a foot.
On the lee—side of "The Mushrooms" there was sufficient shelter for the four Scouts of the "Wolves," for Hayes and Tenderfoot Basil Armstrong were left behind in camp while the "Otters" were resting in their tent.
The yacht still remained close inshore, in the same position as when the Scouts had first sighted her. The tide had long since changed, but the crew had made no attempt to shift her, either by means of the motor or sweeps.
Throughout the rest of the afternoon the "Wolves" kept on the watch. The shadows lengthened as the sun sank down in the west; but the two men on board gave no signs of their presence.
"Anything wrong?" asked Atherton, as the "Otters" came to the relief of their comrades, Sayers and Scott being left in camp to perform a like duty to the one Hayes and Armstrong had been detailed to do.
"Not a sign," replied Simpson. "Just our luck. I suppose they'll do something as soon as it gets dark, and we'll be out of it."
"May not," rejoined Atherton. "Anyway, if anything exciting does occur we'll rouse you up right enough."
With that the "Wolves" reluctantly betook themselves off, and the "Otters" carried on the task of watching the mysterious yacht. The Scouts knew their work well. Even in the gathering twilight they refrained from showing themselves against the skyline. Each lad, with a cluster of gorse in his hat to still lessen the risk of detection, kept well behind cover.
Night fell. There was no moon, but the stars gave sufficient light to distinguish the outlines of the coast and the grimly silent yacht, that, two hundred feet below, rocked gently on the bosom of the ocean.
"It's eleven o'clock and slack tide," said Phillips to his Leader. "What do you say to this: suppose we get the others to lower us down the cliffs by the Tea Caves? It's hardly any distance."
"What then?" asked Atherton.
"Well, there being no tide, we could easily swim off to that yacht. It would be worth doing to find out what those fellows are doing on board."
"I'm game," agreed Atherton. "But we'll have to mention it to Mr Buckley."
"Do you think he'll let us go?" asked Phillips, anxiously.
"If he won't there's an end to it," rejoined Atherton, sturdily. "So here goes, I'll ask."
"A hundred yards from the shore at least," observed the Scoutmaster, when Atherton made the proposal. "Are you quite sure you can do the distance there and back?"
"Both Phillips and I hold half-mile certificates, sir," said the Leader. "If the other fellows will lower us on to the ledge leading to the Caves, it will be a fairly simple matter to swarm down the rope to the base of the cliff."
"Very well, then," assented the Scoutmaster. "But, whatever you do, exercise the greatest caution. Everest and Baker can remain here, the rest of the available 'Otters' can support you."
"Thank you, sir," replied Atherton, saluting, and without further delay the work of preparation began.
Green and Mayne were to remain on the top of the cliff above the ledge leading to the Tea Caves, the Scoutmaster was to descend to the ledge, make sure that there was no one lurking at the entrance to the caverns, and to assist the two swimmers during their descent and ascent to and from the sea.
Noiselessly the little party gained the spot, almost opposite the anchored yacht. No signs of life were visible from the unlighted craft. Her outlines could only just be discerned against the dark surface of the water.
It did not take the Scouts long to discover the holes into which the staves and crowbars had been driven on the first occasion of their first exploration of the Tea Caves. The tufts of earth that had been placed in them to hide the traces of the Scouts' operations were removed and two stout iron bars deftly inserted.
Giving a final glance round, Mr Buckley made one end of the rope fast round his body. "Lower away, lads," he exclaimed. "I'm not a heavy weight, and when one has a groggy arm it puts a stopper on hand-over-hand work."
As soon as Mr Buckley reached the ledge, Atherton and Phillips swarmed down. They were now only twenty feet above the sea, and at that particular spot the irregular shape of the cliffs permitted a fairly easy descent.
"We'll go with you, sir, as far as the Caves," whispered the Leader, but the Scoutmaster demurred.
"One can go where three cannot sometimes," he replied. "If there's any bother I'll whistle for you. I think I can well hold my own till then."
In five minutes Mr Buckley returned.
"It's all clear, I think," he remarked in an undertone. "The dust seems undisturbed and there's been no wind to level it. I've covered my tracks very carefully in case of accidents."
Quickly undressing, Atherton, with a rope tied round his waist, in case he slipped, made his way down to the water's edge. Casting off the rope, he waited till Phillips joined him, and as noiselessly as the little creatures from which the patrol took its name, the two Scouts slipped into the water.
Not a word was spoken as the lads swam with steady strokes towards the yacht The sea was quite warm, warmer in fact than the air. Both Scouts knew how to swim with the least exertion and without making a splash. They did not hurry, realising that haste in swimming means loss of strength; so, keeping side by side, they made light work of their outward journey.
The mysterious yacht was now riding lightly to her anchor. There was little or no tide; and her cable was, in nautical parlance, "straight up and down." By a fortunate chance, owing no doubt to the slovenliness of her crew rather than to their lack of seamanship, the yacht's bobstay was still hove taut, and this afforded a fine foothold for the two lads.
Atherton could just manage to grasp the bowsprit. Raising his legs, he threw his heels over the low bulwark and contrived to draw himself on deck. He waited, every sense keenly on the alert. All was quiet, save for a muffled conversation in the cabin.
Assisting Phillips on board, the elder lad led the way aft. Their bare feet made no sound upon the dew-sodden decks; and, cautiously picking their way over coils of ropes and avoiding formidable-looking cleats that would, in the event of hitting them, cause painful results, the two Scouts came to the closed companion hatch communicating to the main cabin.
Through a chink in the teak door, Atherton saw that a light was burning. The scuttles had been covered with a thick material in order to screen the light within.
It was a remarkable sight that met the Scout's gaze. On the swinging table was a quantity of silver plate. Sitting on one bunk was one of the crew, who was apprehensively regarding his companion. Of the latter Atherton now had no doubts. He was the same red-necked fellow who had been one of the assailants of Sir Silas Gwinnear. There was no mistaking the closely cropped iron-grey hair, the rounded though massive shoulders and back, the long legs and all the other characteristics the Scout had so carefully noticed. In his hands he held a sporting rifle, which was pointed in the direction of his companion.
"Ere, chuck it, Bill. Turn that blessed thing away," remonstrated the seated man.
"'Tain't loaded, yer blinkin' juggins."
"That's wot yer says, Bill."
"'Struth: don't yer know as well as I does that there ain't a blinkin' cartridge aboard. All the same it'll come in 'andy-like to frighten them nippers if they comes a' nosin' abaht 'ere agen."
"They won't. I'll chaunce me arm on that, Bill."
"'Ow d'ye know that? Ain't they properly kippered that old fool Tassh, till 'e ain't got no mind to call 'is own? If it weren't for them blessed Scouts we'd a' hid all the blessed swag aboard afore now. Tassh won't budge till nigh on one in the mornin', as yer bloomin' well knows, the white-livered swob."
"'E was late last night. Arter three afore 'e gived the signal."
"Ef 'e's blinkin' well late to-night we'll go ashore and rout 'im out of 'is blessed cave."
"Not this 'ere child, Bill. I ain't got no likin' to wormin' me way through that 'ole between the two caves. I'll wait in the outer one if yer likes."
"You'll blessed well do as I tells yer," retorted the latter man, laying the gun down on the bunk. "Onderstand that. Well, 'ere goes. I'll 'ave a look on deck, and see if anything's stirrin'. Douse that glim for a minnit, while I opens the 'atch."
Atherton touched his companion's shoulder. Both lads rose to their feet and began to make their way for'ard, Phillips treading on one side of the deck and Atherton on the other, so as to prevent the craft from heeling. Even the faintest heel would be noticeable to the two men below, and their suspicions would be instantly aroused.
Phillips lowered himself noiselessly over the bows, but before Atherton could clamber over the windlass that occupied a portion of the foredeck, the noise of the hatch being slid back told him that Bill was in the act of coming on deck.
There was no time to be lost. Atherton hurried to rejoin his comrade, but his haste led to his undoing. His bare feet slipped on the wet planks, and the next instant he was sprawling at full length upon the deck.
[Illustration: "Throughout the rest of the afternoon the Wolves kept on the watch."—Page 217.]