“Is this Winnsocket Lodge?” asked an officer, as he sprang ashore and eyed the boys keenly.
“Yes, sir,” Chot responded.
“Do you live here?”
“No; we are a party of cadets from Winton Hall on the Hudson. We came up here in canoes, then remained as the guests of a Mr. Lawrence, who left the day after we arrived.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, sir; he went away in the night in a motor-boat.”
“I am Lieutenant Weston Winters of the United States revenue service,” the officer went on, extending his hand. “We have been trying to trace to their hiding place a band of smugglers. We have every reason to believe that this Mr. Lawrence is the leader of the band. Have there been any unusual happenings since your arrival?”
“There has been nothing else,” Chot replied, smiling. “As for the smugglers, we have captured the entire band with the exception of Mr. Lawrence, and we were getting ready to take him, too, believing at first that this was his boat.”
Of course, Lieutenant Winters wanted the details, and Chot related their adventures from the moment they met Mr. Lawrence until the release of Bert Creighton from the smugglers’ lair the previous night.
“And you have these men safe in the cellar?” asked Lieutenant Winters, a merry twinkle in his eyes.