“I wish they were all like that,” continued Malvin. “Confound them, they ran me out of a good job, and we can’t use the River Swallow any more in our work. And not content with that, they’ve got to start chasing the Artful Dodger now.”
“Well, they’ll chase her a precious long time before they get any satisfaction,” responded Hawke; “and then it’s liable to be in reverse English. Rawson isn’t the sort of man to stand for any monkey business. He’d as lief send ’em all to the bottom as eat, I reckon.”
“Yes, that’s Rawson,” agreed Malvin. “Well, Hansen, got your light?”
“Aye, aye,” growled the Norwegian.
“Then come on. We’ve wasted too much time already.”
The trio struck off up the road toward the town. Harry, after waiting what he deemed a safe period of time, slipped from his place of concealment and followed them.
His brain was fairly in a whirl with what he had overheard. It explained many things.
Judging from what the men had said, the “spook motor craft” was called the Artful Dodger and was engaged in some nefarious business, as, indeed, the boys had already guessed. A man named Rawson was in command of her, and he was evidently a desperate character. The mention of the submarine mines, the explosive for which had been detonated by accident, amply demonstrated that.
Moreover, Malvin must have visited the island the night before, after they had left with the boy, and taken Hawke on board the River Swallow, concealing him in a small space under the gasoline tanks forward. Nor was this all. The injured lad, Jim Whey, was clearly a cog in the machine somewhere.
Also, judging from what he had overheard, Jim Whey knew much of the machinations of the gang of which, apparently, he was an unwilling member. Otherwise, why should the men have feared that he might talk to the lads who had rescued him? That Jim had revelations of importance to make, was clear from what had been said.