He did not let the man in gray get far away before approaching near enough so Mr. Cooler could be seen occasionally as he slipped through the bushes.
But it was not difficult to follow the queer old man, for Cooler did not seem to imagine for a moment that he was shadowed. He walked swiftly, puffing away at his pipe, and the smell of burning tobacco came back to the nostrils of the pursuing lad.
After a little time the man struck the path that runs round the island and through the old granite quarry. Then he walked still more swiftly, but Frank also found less trouble in following.
Soon the quarry was reached. Cooler passed straight through this and struck the track which led down the incline to the sheds near the wharf.
Now Frank was not able to pursue him so closely; he was forced to linger far behind, for to keep close meant certain discovery should the man look back.
Still he followed. The track ran through a cut and wound slowly along a bank, to one side of which lay the water.
Frank reached the cut and saw the man in gray disappear beyond some bowlders. A moment later Merry was at the bowlders, peering down the track toward the
still retreating form of the little man, over whose shoulders at regular intervals curled blue puffs of smoke.
Frank had expected that the man would be suspicious and would look round frequently. He was astonished when the man did not look round at all.
"He doesn't act like a criminal," Frank decided. "He hasn't the air of a criminal. He walks along as if he had not a care in all the wide world and did not fear to have all his actions watched. It is strange—very strange."