“Yes, sir. Come along, young men,” said Jennings, preparing briskly to execute his chief’s orders.
“And Jennings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You had better be armed. Tell the other men to take weapons, too. La Rue is a desperate man and the others may give you trouble, also.”
Jennings and the two boys hurried off. Harry Ware and Percy Simmons were delighted at the turn affairs had taken. The arrest of Hawke,—or to give him his real name, La Rue,—was at hand. Before long, by their instrumentality, the gem smugglers would be safely in the hands of the customs officials.
Only one doubt assailed them as Jennings hastily summoned his two aides. Would they be in time? The knowledge that Ralph had been left alone on the River Swallow, without weapons to defend himself, and in the company of three men who had good reason to fear the worst from the boys’ visit ashore, had a disquieting effect upon them.
As they hurried through the streets, they wished that Jennings would make even more haste.
When they reached the main custom house, where Adams and Prescott, who were on night duty, were to be picked up, a low, rumbling sound came from the northern sky.
Jennings glanced up quickly. To the north the stars had been blotted out. Heavy clouds had rolled up obscuring them. As the boys followed the direction of Jennings’s gaze, they saw a sudden lambent flash, as yet far off, flare up and vanish on the cloud bank.
“Lightning!” exclaimed Harry.