Out of pure perversity they stole fishing nets and tackle, robbed farmers’ hen roosts, and dismantled yachts and yawls. When these pilferings were brought home to them, they destroyed fishing outfits, scuttled boats, and burned down several haystacks. Six of them were finally arrested, and among the witnesses against them were Tom and Ben. The young desperadoes, who had established a dead line over which few Rockley Cove boys dared to venture, were locked up in the county jail for thirty days and in addition their parents had to pay fines for them.
All this had happened about a year before Station Z was started. The Black Caps had been disrupted, it seemed, and Tom had heard little of the Barbers for some time. If they continued their former marauding course, it was in some new territory, for they neither noticed nor molested any more Rockley Cove boys or property.
Now, however, the old-time tactics so common in the past had been revived, it seemed, as witness the warning note Tom had received. It was over this that Ben was cogitating. Finally Tom expressed an opinion.
“I can’t account for any fresh antipathy on the part of the Barbers,” he said, “unless it is because they see me going down to Mr. Morgan’s once or twice a week.”
“I’ll bet that’s it,” exclaimed Ben. “You generally take the cut inland near the settlement, don’t you, Tom?”
“Nearly always.”
“That must be it, then. They think you are sort of watching them—invading their territory, as they call it. I don’t think, though, they would cut up very rough with you.”
“Why not?”
“Well, Bill Barber said before he got out of jail you had made up for telling what you had to tell against him, by pleading with the judge to let them off light for a first offence.”
“I shall not lose any sleep over the terrible warning,” laughed Tom lightly.