“It sure did us a good turn the night the revenues came,” said Jim Dale.
“Let’s see, it was over this way, wasn’t it? Right under that big hemlock on the top of the cliff?”
“That’s right.”
Rob heard them cross the sandy strip of beach. Luckily, he was lying with his face toward that side, and by half-opening his eyes could observe their movements without danger of being discovered.
They approached a clump of bushes and fumbled about in it for a brief time. Peter did most of the searching, for that was what it seemed to be, while Dale stood over him.
“Well?” demanded Dale at length, “is it there?”
“Is what there?” wondered Rob.
“It’s here, all right,” responded Peter Bumpus and in triumph he held up something which only by great straining of his eyes Rob was able to recognize as a strand of wire. It was so slender that if his attention had not been drawn to it he would never have seen it.
“I’d like to give it a yank and bring the rope ladder down,” said Dale.
“I wouldn’t mind a run in the old woods myself,” said Peter. He seemed half inclined to pull the wire, which Rob judged, though he could not distinguish it against the dull background of rock, must lead to the cliff summit. On that cliff summit the boy also assumed, from what he had heard, there must lie a rope ladder. The mystery of the escape of the rascals from the revenue officers was solved. They had mounted by the rope ladder on the first alarm and pulled it up after them. Rob could hardly help admiring the strategy that had conceived such a scheme.