Before the two officers departed to issue the necessary orders for the carrying out of their plans, Jack for the first time since he had had that one brief glimpse of them at the beginning of their adventure, remembered the torpedo-shaped metal objects on the beach and spoke about them.
“I am quite sure they must be great containers controlled by radio,” he said. “Probably they were launched from a liquor ship well out to sea, and then brought to shore by radio. I suppose Higginbotham directed the current, although it might have been that thug with him whom you first attacked, Bob. That fellow who said it was he had damaged the airplane. Remember?”
“By George, yes,” said Bob, starting up, a vengeful expression on his face. “And that reminds me. Where is that particular ruffian, I’d like to know. He isn’t among the prisoners.”
“Maybe, he’s among the wounded,” suggested 168 Jack. “A half dozen have been gathered up, none seriously wounded, and are out in the kitchen where that apprentice surgeon is fixing them up.”
He referred to one of the sailors, a medical student who because of ill health had enlisted in the “Dry Navy” in order to obtain an outdoor life. Lieutenant Summers earlier had assigned him to look after the injured. Despite all the shooting that had taken place, none of the sailors had been wounded, and the boys, Captain Folsom and Tom represented, with their injuries from blows, the sole casualties in the government forces. Of the half dozen smugglers injured, moreover, none had been shot other than in the arms or legs. As Lieutenant Summers had explained to the boys, even in pitched battle a good deal of powder and shot was spent often without anybody being injured.
Bob made hasty examination of the kitchen and returned to report the man he sought could not be located. He found Jack and Frank awaiting him, the officers having departed to see about preparations for moving the liquor.
“Believe me, if I could find that fellow,” grunted Bob, and he did not finish the sentence.
“Well,” said Jack, looking out of the window, “it’s daylight now. Let’s go down and have a look at those torpedo things on the beach. Then we can 169 take a plunge and go home. I’m beginning to feel let down now, and I could sleep the clock around.”
The others agreed, and passing through the living room made their way outdoors and headed for the beach. Frank stopped suddenly, and emitted an exclamation of disgust.
“We’re a fine crowd,” he said. “Why hasn’t one of us thought of that radio-controlled airplane before? What’s become of it?”