“Wrong!” cried the lighthouse man. “Don’t you call it wrong to set up a false light to lure unsuspecting captains on the rocks, so you can get your pickings? Wrong!”
“Huh! How do you know but what this light was put here as a range finder for us fishermen?” asked the other.
“Fishermen! Why, you men never did an honest day’s fishing in your lives!” cried Abe Haskill. “Fishing! When you haven’t been smuggling you’ve been wrecking, or robbing other honest men’s nets. You’re a bunch of scoundrels, and it’s the best day’s work we’ve done in many a year to get you!”
“That’s all right,” retorted Hemp, easily. “Words don’t prove anything.”
“They don’t; eh?” cried Tom Cardiff. “You’ll see what they do. We’ll convict you by your own words!”
“Our own words?” asked Hemp Danforth, uneasily.
“Yes, overheard by these two lads, whom you chased but couldn’t catch. I guess when Blake Stewart and Joe Duncan go into court, and testify about hearing you talk of wrecking vessels by your false lantern, the jury’ll convict you, all right!”
Hemp seemed less concerned with what Tom said than with the name Joe Duncan. As this was uttered the wrecker looked at the two lads.
“Did I understand him to say that one of you is a Duncan?” asked Hemp, curiously.
“I am,” replied Joe.