"Wait a minute," spelled out Frank. "I wish I could talk."
"Why?" asked Jack. "Aren't you talking?"
"Yes, after a fashion, but those chaps can't understand this. I'd like to tell the watchman what a liar he is and to ask Wyckoff where my chum Charley Burnett is. If he didn't answer, I'd make him."
"I see," Jack replied. "But have patience. We'll get him."
"Here they come," announced Tom. "Both of 'em, hungry hounds."
"Listen," signaled Frank. "Get this if you can."
The watchman and Wyckoff, for it was he, were talking in low tones. Only an occasional word was audible to the three watchers on the motor boat. It was evident that Wyckoff had been drinking and was inclined to be a trifle quarrelsome. The watchman was doing his best to restrain Wyckoff from some act upon which he seemed determined. They were using harsh words but still talked in a low tone.
Finally Wyckoff turned and left the yard, followed by the protesting watchman who slammed the gate after the retreating figure.
"There, that's over," sighed Tom. "What did you get out of it?"
"Just this," stated Jack. "The watchman is a liar and Wyckoff was not here for any good. He intends mischief of some sort."