“Kind of a hazy clue, altogether, isn’t it?” queried Jed.
“It’s enough to be worth looking into,” Tom replied earnestly. “Do you realize that to-morrow is the last day that Mr. Dunstan has to get Ted before the probate court! That, if he doesn’t do it to-morrow, the big inheritance of millions goes by the board? So anything is big enough to work on to-night. It’s our last chance. Now Mr. Dunstan has assured me that the ‘Meteor’ won’t be ordered out to-night. Joe and I are going to watch the Frenchman. Jed, you’ll want to stay right here by the boat and keep a sharp eye on it, for Gambon may not be the one who is trying to put the ‘Meteor’ on the scrap heap. You’ll have Bouncer to help you. Even if it came to taking the boat over to Wood’s Hole, on a changed order, you’re equal to it, aren’t you?”
“Just give me the chance!” cried Jed. “I’d welcome it.”
As soon as dark fell Joe stole across the grounds at the further end, stationing himself by the road. Tom, on the other hand, hid himself not far from Gambon’s little cottage. This was the plan of the chums to prevent the Frenchman from giving them the slip, in case he had any suspicions. There was still a light in Gambon’s cottage. After half an hour, however, the light vanished. Then Gambon came out, carrying a thick walking stick.
Tom watched the Frenchman until he was out of sight. Then after him the young skipper went on tip-toe. It was not difficult to keep quietly on the trail, for the gardener appeared far from suspicious.
Then, minutes later, Joe stepped out from behind a tree, touching Tom lightly on the arm. They went along together.
“It’s easy so far,” whispered Halstead.
“May be a reason,” answered Joe. “Our Frenchman may have nothing to conceal. Perhaps he’s only going courting.”
As Michael had reported, the gardener’s route lay along the highway to Nantucket. The lights of the little town were in sight when Halstead suddenly gave Joe a nudge. Both dodged behind bushes. For the Frenchman had stepped off the road under some trees. First looking around him, Gambon next bent over, moving a stone twice the size of his head. He picked up a piece of paper. Tom and Joe were breathing hard by this time.
Carefully replacing the stone, Gambon struck a match, scanning the piece of paper he held in his hand. In another instant he touched the flaming match to a corner of the paper, watching it burn up.