The boys remained stock-still for a moment in the gloom of the trail.
"They'll be after us," said Frank quickly. "Take it easy. Make for the cove. I'll take the lead. Make as little noise as you can."
He started off at a trot, and the others followed. Behind them the uproar increased in volume. They could hear the gangsters shouting to one another; they could hear rocks clattering as their pursuers came running down from the cave.
Their erstwhile captors were rushing directly for the trail. They assumed that the boys would attempt to regain their boat as quickly as possible.
A voice was shouting:
"Head them off at the shore! Don't let them get to their boat!"
The boys increased their speed. There was no attempt at concealment now. They could hear the branches crashing behind them as the gangsters hurried through the thicket.
In the pitch blackness of the grove they stumbled and fell, tripped and reeled as they rushed along.
Chet and Biff, being unused to the trail, were obliged to travel at a slower pace, and in this way they dropped behind. The Hardy boys did not notice. There was such a confusion of sound in the grove, what with the noise of their own flight and the uproar of the pursuit, that they did not know that their chums were straggling.
At a fork in the trail, Frank and Joe headed to the left, the path leading downhill at this point, and toward the cove. They could hear the boom of the surf not far away and they knew that they were nearing their goal.