Taken in all it was a rather tempting spectacle for a pair of Secret Service bloodhounds to find spread out before their admiring eyes. Jack was priming his ears so as to catch any careless words spoken by these men landing the cargo fetched from one of those mother ships standing by off the shore. Even a name spoken would be treasured in hopes of it eventually turning the scrutiny of Uncle Sam’s vigilant enforcers of the revenue laws upon some party, who thus far had never once been suspected as allied with this formidable conspiracy.
It did not take very long for the numerous workers to clear the decks and hold of the numerous staunch burlap sacks, each of which must have held possibly a full dozen quart bottles.
Some four stout men, apparently the crews of the two big motortrucks, kept busy loading the stuff aboard their cars. Evidently they meant to cover the entire load under some hay that was heaped up close by, possibly fetched for this very purpose, the whole being well tucked down under a dingy looking but stout tarpaulin that could be roped securely by expert hands.
Yes, it was certainly all very interesting, and instructive as well, but then the three watchers were no novices, all of them having witnessed similar sights many times in the past.
At least Jack had reason to believe certain things that floated to his ears,—mostly names being mentioned by some of the talkative workers—might prove strong clues, that, being followed up to their logical conclusion, would bring interesting developments later on.
This encouraged him very much, as he realized he was now in a position to reap some sort of harvest to pay for the hard work he had been putting in.
Now that the speed boat had been cleared of its heavy load there were movements aboard looking to a departure. It being already past midnight perhaps the master of the blockade runner—having been duly posted through some obscure means—knew just about where the Government vessel from which he had the most to fear would be cruising at that hour; and figured it would be a wise move on his part to gain the high seas as soon as convenient.
Perk saw these actions with falling spirits—he had been so sure Jack meant to begin operations without any delay that to thus let that swift contraband runner get away unscathed was really too bad.
So he had to crouch there behind the network of bushes, and see the vessel back away from the rough-looking dock, swing around in the narrow but deep creek, and then disappear down-stream, the light of its glowing reflector gradually dying out as it drew farther away.
“Huh! nawthin’ doin’ seems like,” Perk was telling himself in bitter disappointment. “I’d a given a heap jest to slip one o’ my bally time-bombs aboard that ere craft, so she’d bust into flames when far away down the river; but Jack, he doant seem ready to hit the fust crack.”