“The captain of that night-running motor boat?” inquired Prescott, who had been but recently transferred to the northern border after commendable work in the southwest.
“That’s the fellow. I see you’ve heard of that boat.”
“Who hasn’t? Even these young men encountered her on several occasions. She has been seen in the vicinity of Dexter Island. I assume that Malvin, who was in the employ of Mr. Stetson, received consignments of gems to be smuggled later.”
“That appears certain. But did you say Stetson was the name of the owner of the island?” inquired Prescott.
“Yes, Stetson, the big railroad man. It’s his son Ralph that is on board the River Swallow in the power of those men.”
“The same Ralph Stetson that was mixed up in that affair of the arms and ammunition, smuggled across the Mexican border by the underground river?”
“The same fellow,” broke in Harry.
“Then depend upon it, young men, that your chum will be able to take care of himself,” assured Prescott. “I heard full details of that affair, and the way in which he and his friend Jack Merrill acquitted themselves, showed that they were made of no ordinary stuff. I’d back that boy against a dozen La Rues any time.”
“The way in which they have all handled this affair so far proves that they are a bunch of uncommonly smart lads,” said Jennings. “If it hadn’t been for a slip-up, we might have had La Rue in our hands by this time.”
Agitated though they were, Harry and Percy could hardly conceal a smile at this ingenious way of putting the case. Had it not been for Jennings’ stupidity in arresting them—for that is practically what he had done—the customs authorities might have reached the River Swallow in plenty of time to apprehend the rascals on board and save Ralph from being carried off. For that he had gone of his own free will never entered the chums’ heads for an instant. They knew Ralph too well to think that he would desert them in such a way, unless he had been literally abducted.