"I've examined the wreck and dug up the sand, besides watching the flats for several nights. The place might be used for a wireless installation, but, lying in a hollow, with hills on both sides, it's not particularly suitable." He paused and looked at Andrew. "That had some influence with me."
Andrew thought Rankine meant that if he felt certain that messages were sent from the wreck, he would have brought some pressure to bear on him.
"How did you get there?" he asked.
"We ran in behind Ross Island when it was too rough for surveying, and afterward brought up near Abbey Head. You get some shelter there so long as the wind's not south."
"But it's a long way from Abbey Head to the wreck," Whitney interposed.
"I shipped a steam launch at Belfast."
"And went to the wreck and back at night? Wasn't it blowing hard?"
"Hard enough," smiled Rankine. "We had some trouble to keep the fire from being swamped, but she's a powerful boat and has a good big pump. Then we traveled most of the distance shortly before and after low-water, when the sea was not so bad; but I'll confess that I couldn't have found my way among the shoals except for Mr. Johnstone's directions. We made three trips and got back before daylight without noting anything suspicious."
They looked at him in surprise. A steam launch voyage along that dangerous coast on a wild winter night was a bold undertaking, particularly when one must cross surf-swept sands with only a few feet of water under the boat. And Rankine had safely accomplished it thrice.
"What about the digging?" Whitney asked. "Mightn't it alarm our man?"