“So that’s Mr. Delavan’s prison, is it?” thought the young skipper, throbbing with the excitement of his discovery. “Whereabouts is this place? Probably near Cookson’s Inlet. I wonder if the water can be seen from any point around here?”
Then, gazing after the two men, Tom saw them disappear into the house. There seeming to be no one else about, the boy stole slowly toward the house. He had reached an old, tumble-down summer-house when the sound of voices made him hide there. Two other men, middle-aged and strangers, came from the direction of the house, going towards the barn. They had been talking in undertones, but ceased before they came near enough for the young motor boat captain to make out anything.
“Confound ’em,” grumbled Halstead, a few moments later. For the two men, having reached the barn, now lighted pipes and stood there, smoking and chatting in undertones.
Halstead could not move from where he crouched. If he did he ran the almost certain chance of being discovered. Thus some ten or twelve minutes passed. The young skipper of the “Rocket” studied the old house, trying to guess in what part of it Francis Delavan was confined against his will. Not a single light, however, showed from the outside.
Someone was coming away from the house. As he came nearer, Halstead made him out to be Rexford. That young man kept on past the barn to the shed. He soon returned slowly in the car, the two men with pipes swinging aboard as he passed them.
To Tom’s great alarm the car stopped close to the summer house. The two strangers now stepped out again, going toward the main house. Hardly had they vanished when Justin Bolton came out once more, going straight to the automobile, though he did not board it.
“You understand your orders fully now, Rexford?” inquired Bolton. “You know what to do to-night, and you are aware that, this house having served its brief purpose, we shall not use it again. The launch will remain where it is, in hiding, for a day or two, at least. Then, when all is ready, the launch will take you and your charge out to sea. You know the rest?”
“It’s all quite clear, thank you, Mr. Bolton,” Rexford replied.
“I shall rely upon you, then, Rexford. Don’t fail me.”
“No fear, Mr. Bolton. You are wagering millions on the game, but I have at least a fortune at stake. Trust me. I won’t fail you.”