And Rick and Scotty looked. Even though they knew now nothing would be found in the old house, they had no choice. With the three hovering over them they searched in corners, under stairs, in bins. They sounded walls and rapped floors. As they passed through the kitchen, four men were playing cards, evidently members of Brad's crew. They inspected the butler's pantry and even the refrigerator, then they were pushed on through the other first-floor rooms and up the stairs.
Rick was tired of the whole affair, but every time he hesitated, Brad or Red gave him a headlong shove that kept him moving, and always Carrots was behind with the rifle. When there were no bulbs in the rooms a flashlight Red produced provided illumination. Room by tiresome room they worked their way to the attic.
From the attic they were run down the stairs again and out into the grounds and forced to cover every inch of land. Then they were taken to the garage-boathouse and made to work their way through what had been the servants' quarters. Downstairs, they inspected the only car, and Rick automatically made a mental note of the make and the New York license number. Then they looked under the seats and into the rope locker of a motor whaleboat that was the only craft in the boathouse, and they were forced to crawl under the boathouse where it rested on piles.
"Now," Brad Marbek said grimly, "let's take a look at the trawler."
"Do we have to?" Scotty said wearily. "We know you wouldn't make us look if there was anything to be seen."
Brad's big hand landed in the middle of his back, smashing him toward the dock. "March!" he commanded.
The tiresome routine started again. Through wheelhouse and cabin and galley and enginehouse and rope and gear lockers they hunted, picking up accumulated layers of dirt and grease on the way, until finally only the huge fish holds were left.
Rick looked into the forward one and thought, "Oh, no!" He started to protest, but Brad's open hand caught him on the side of the face. "Dig!" the skipper commanded. "You asked for it. Dig!"
And dig they did, through tons of stinking menhaden and cold ice until they choked and their mouths felt full of scales. Once or twice they protested, but there was always big Brad Marbek ready to strike out and Carrots and Red Kelso backing him up.
An eternity later they clawed their way up the pile of fish in the last hold.