Our hero and his companion were at the point when the taut little smuggler ran down from the inlet, and came to an anchor oft the shore.
At the time the place had not become as great a resort as at present, and the hordes of pleasure-seekers, who now, during certain seasons of the year dwell on the coast, little dream of the wild scenes, and wilder orgies that occurred thereabouts a few years back.
Taylor and the detective had crossed the bay to the island and were hidden in the brush that fringed the bluff overlooking the shore, when the "Nancy" ran down as described and came to an anchor.
"There's the smuggler!" exclaimed Taylor as he first caught sight of the yacht.
"Yes, there's the 'Nancy' as sure as you are born," returned the detective.
"Ah, you know her?"
"I reckon I do."
"There's a bad lot on that boat."
"There is a bad lot; they are a crew of murderer and bandits."
"They do great harm to our legitimate business, and good honest men are constantly annoyed by the cutters who hail and search them almost daily."