Tom now led the way down to the retaining wall. Prescott gazed with great interest at the signs of activity. On a closer inspection he was even more interested. He was capable of understanding very fully what was being done here, for every graduate of the United States Military Academy is supposed to be a capable engineer.
"You've a difficult task on hand, but your basic principle is sound, and you're doing the work finely and economically," Dick declared with emphasis.
Harry came in from the outer end of the wall and joined them. He listened with pride to the praises that the army officer showered on the engineers.
"I wish Mr. Bascomb, the president of the company, could hear you," said Harry. "He isn't altogether sure that we know what we're about in anything that we're doing."
"Then I've a very good mental picture of Bascomb," declared Dick, bluntly. "Bascomb is something of a chump. By the way, if you want to get square with Mr. Bascomb, why don't you coax him down here to help you look out for the evil-doers who are combined against you?"
"He wouldn't be much use," sighed Tom. "He's an impossible sort of chap. He wanted us to stop our crusade against camp vice. Said it was hurting business."
"What craft is that?" inquired Dick, looking toward a sailboat that was moving lazily along about a half-mile to the eastward.
"I don't know," Tom answered, after a look. "Never saw the boat before.
Regular cabin cruiser, isn't she, about forty feet long?"
"About that," nodded Dick. "What interested me in her was the fact that a fellow on board has been watching us with a marine glass. I caught the glint of the sun on the lenses."
"Why should he want to be watching us?" demanded Hazelton.