“Elinor,” said Mary presently, “don’t you remember what those men who borrowed Billie’s automobile said about killing every Butler in the county who interfered?”
“Yes,” said Elinor, in a frightened voice, “but what could these boxes have to do with it?”
“They may have a great deal,” said Ben. “Those men are probably smuggling your uncles’ auto supplies out of the country. The boxes are smuggled up to this cave by degrees, I suppose, and then loaded on some ship when they have got enough to make it worth while. And, if it’s the same man we had dealings with that night, he is a pretty desperate kind of an individual.”
“I don’t want any more fights,” exclaimed Billie. “Both of those men carried pistols and knives; I suppose all first-class smugglers do, but I don’t propose that my party is going to be ruined by any bloodshed. It is getting late, and we had better be going.”
They quite agreed with Billie, although the boys would have liked to linger in the Smugglers’ Cave for a while.
The outer air seemed very warm and oppressive after the cold damp atmosphere of the cave. They blinked their eyes and shivered as they hurried along the path which led to the road and in the change from dark to light they did not at first notice that the sun was hidden by a great cloud, as black as ink, which stretched from horizon to horizon. A hot, heavy wind stirred the pine needles and that sense of impending trouble which always comes before a great storm sobered the spirits of the boys and girls.
Nobody spoke of the cloud. It seemed to be a question of honor with them not to mention it, but they hurried on silently, and in a few minutes reached the automobile.
With a sigh of relief, the four girls were about to jump in, while Ben cranked up, when suddenly Nancy gave a little, pent-up scream.
“Look!” she cried, pointing to a piece of paper stuck on the cushion of the back seat.
This message was printed with a lead pencil on the paper: