"Rum-runners, I suppose," said Frank.
But the fisherman scorned this suggestion.
"If it's rum-runners, they'd be bringin' their cargoes out to the road, wouldn't they? Not much sense in 'em hidin' the liquor in the caves and leavin' it there, is there?"
"I wouldn't think so. But perhaps they bring it out to the road quietly."
"Nothin' of the sort. It's been investigated. There's been no queer doin's on the road at all. All the queer doin's are right in the caves. If it was rum-runners, they'd be bringin' the stuff in by boat, and there ain't been any boats seen around here that can't be accounted for."
"Just what are the queer doings?"
"Lights, mostly. And shootin'."
"But has no person been seen?"
"Not a livin' soul."
"That's strange."