After supper that night Mr. Nevens took his new man on a strange boat ride, from the boat-house into the middle of Black Cove. A flat-bottomed scow, which had lain inshore, half-hidden by trees, now proved its usefulness. Anchored at the cove’s center this scow served as the landing platform from which interesting things took place, as Stan and John had seen it used at night. Mr. Sandborn acted very much surprised, however, at what took place. A diver was soon outfitted and sent down into the water, taking with him an enormous and powerful underwater light, special invention of the ingenious Mr. Nevens. While he was down, for a period of a half hour, the crime head told his story, a story almost incredible.

And at the end of a half hour during which the air pump had wheezed and men worked about the decks, keeping all lines open and free, the diver began his ascent. A little later, by the glare of a light, Mr. Sandborn gazed down at the deck upon a stout, heavy case. It bore, on the outside, the name of a famous brand of liquor!

Could it be that a boat-load of liquor had been the source of an income sufficient to set up Cowboy Nevada in racketeering? Mr. Sandborn looked at Nevada now and the glint in the man’s eyes was cold, calculating, triumphant.

CHAPTER XI
Captured

WHEN John came to, he fully expected to find himself held prisoner by none other than Mr. Nevens himself. His surprise was the more intense, as he shook his aching head and sat up, to find that he was still in a fog; and it was not a mental one either. All about him was dark damp fog. He had escaped from their pursuers? Yes, for there were no sounds save the rustling of trees in the blackness. He started, all of a sudden, shocked by the discovery that he had lost his bow and quiver of arrows!

Knowing that they were his only weapon except his wits in the present dilemma, he tried hard to think of what had happened to them. He knew that he’d left the yacht with them, stepping ashore from the Staghound with them under one arm. He’d have to find them, and soon! Then he had a flash of remembrance that, as Stan shouted for them to run, he’d felt his bow and arrows yanked from his grip as he dashed through the bushes. If some one of the pursuing men had grabbed them, that party might be waiting now for him to go back to search for them. He had to chance that likelihood.

So he went back as near as he could guess to the spot from which the chase had begun, wondering as he did so about a lot of things. Where was Stan? What was Mr. Sandborn doing? He had retraced his steps as best he could and was searching about among the bushes, as quietly as possible, when he ran into something which struck him in the chest! It felt like the end of a gun barrel, and John Tallman thought that the worst had happened!

But no challenge came with that touch, and gently he slid one hand to the object. A little cry of joy escaped his lips as he recognized his bow’s end! It was caught in a bush, and the catching of the string had simulated a yank at the time he’d run. He released it, and found on the ground the quiver with the arrows. Grateful for his good luck, he listened, hearing footsteps approaching.

Then came voices, men’s voices.

“Where do you s’pose that other kid got to, Dago?” some one was asking.