"I didn't think it was your business to take a smuggler by the neck and haul him along to the sheriff," said Harry with a reproachful air. "Still, you could call out your subordinates and send them off to round up the dope crowd, couldn't you? There must be some official machinery for doing that kind of thing."
"There is," assented Mr. Barclay, refilling his pipe. "The trouble is that it makes a certain amount of commotion, and when silence is important you have to be careful how you set it to work. As a rule, it's wiser to have everything ready first. The most careful plans fail sometimes if your assistants are more keen than judicious. That"—and he smiled at the boys—"is why I was dubious about taking you into my confidence before."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry with ironical courtesy. "Do you mind making what you mean to do a little plainer?"
"I'll try. In the first place, smuggling doesn't seem to be considered a crime unless you're caught at it. In fact, a Government of any kind is generally looked upon as fair game, and few people think much the worse of a man who succeeds in doing it out of part of its revenue. How far that idea's right or wrong doesn't concern me. What I must do is to prevent it from being acted on too often, and, taking the notion for granted; we don't want to put the laugh upon ourselves if it can be avoided."
Harry made a sign of comprehension. "Still, if you sent your people down here they should be able to corral part of the gang."
"I agree with you," Barclay answered dryly. "It's possible, anyway—but what would the result be? Three or four persons of no importance might be seized, the rest would get away with a warning, and our plans would all be sprung." Then the stout, good-humored man seemed to change, for his expression suddenly hardened and a look which the boys had never noticed there before crept into his eyes. "No, sir. We want them all, and when we move we expect to gather in the whole rascally combination."
"How can we butt in?"
"With your father's permission, you might, in the first place, invite me to an evening's flight shooting."
"Wouldn't it be better to go across the island in the daytime with the dog and Jake and a couple of spades?"
"No," replied Mr. Barclay. "If my opinion's of any value, I don't think it would be wise. Besides, I understand that the best time for getting a shot at flighting ducks is in the twilight."