Tom spoke up. “I’m pretty sure they’re the fellows Lanky Larry and I followed from the cove to the house called the Gables.”
“And what are they suspected of having done at the Gables?” continued Cotterell.
“Of stealing some jewels,” said Tom.
The man in the buff coat nodded. “In other words, they are probably not very desirable citizens to have at large. I think it’s my duty to give them into custody.”
“Oh, come now,” said Sam. “You don’t really know anything about us. There’s your chest. You see we haven’t taken anything from it. We were sailing along the coast and we came ashore to have a look at the island. That’s a reasonable thing to do.”
“You haven’t any right to arrest us!” exclaimed one of the other men. “You haven’t got a warrant. And who’s going to believe what that young fellow said about seeing us somewhere else?”
“Perhaps we can supply the authorities with further proof,” said Cotterell with a smile.
There came a shout from someone on board the fishing-smack, and all those on the beach looked in that direction. A man was waving a handkerchief over the side of the boat.
XIX—THE COTTERELL SILVER PLATE
While the campers and Cotterell and his guests had been making prisoners of the four men on the beach, the steward Sampson and the two others who had separated from the main party had embarked in a motor-boat that was moored in the creek and made their way out to the fishing-smack. To the surprise of the skipper, who was the only man aboard, two men in fantastic knee-breeches had swung themselves over one side of his boat while he was idly surveying the northern point of the island from the other side. He turned to find himself looking at the muzzle of the most remarkable pistol he had ever seen. Being unarmed himself, he had immediately put up his hands. Whereupon the two men had smiled, and the one with the pistol, lowering that ancient weapon, had said, “That’s a good fellow. Is there anyone else aboard?”