“Looky—over there jest back o’ thet tree, an’ away from the fires—aint that some sorter crate yeou kin lamp?”
“Just what it is, a plane, and a whopping big one to boot,” Jack assured him, when he could find Perk’s ear. “No seaplane after all, so it can’t be used for going out to the mother ship; but flies over the land, taking some sort of stuff to a certain depot—may have fetched a bunch of Chinks over from Cuba on its last trip. Keep still, now, Wally, and just watch.”
The time dragged on until several hours had passed since they arrived at the landing field and camp of those busy bees engaged in hoodwinking Uncle Sam, and all his efficient coast patrol both on sea and the land.
Then a throbbing sound reached their ears; at the same time they could notice how the men no longer rough-housed among themselves. On the contrary they began to gather at a small wharf built so that a boat could draw alongside, and let the cargo be transferred to the waiting trucks for further transportation.
Perk again touched his best pal’s arm, to whisper:
“Boat’s a kickin’ up agin the current, an’ gettin’ nigh here,” he said.
“Okay, but put a stopper on your tongue, matey—eyes are all we need right now—maybe ears as well, to pick up anything that’s said worth while.”
Thus crushed Perk fell back, and concentrated his observation upon the stirring little night drama that would soon be moving along at full speed—a common enough event it must be, judging by the long security from interruption these reckless worthies had enjoyed.
The strong glare of a large searchlight down on the waterway grew brighter continually, showing that the approaching boat must be close at hand. Presently they were able to make her out, although almost dazzled by the brilliant light up in her bow, rendered necessary by the snags and rocks scattered at intervals all along the Yamasaw.
No sooner had the boat been warped to the dock than men flocked aboard, and began to tote the heaped-up heavy sacks ashore. There could be not the shadow of a doubt concerning the nature of their contents, for occasionally the eagerly listening trio caught the sound of flint glass striking against a similar clinking object; and when one sack seemed to accidentally come open, Jack caught the sheen of the light on a serried row of bottles, all bearing foreign labels. He even saw the man carrying the same swiftly crib a bottle, and conceal it under a friendly strip of wood, as though laying by a means for conviviality at a later hour.