"To-night. They expect the schooner at the island at about midnight. They talked it over and arranged all the details of the job before they separated."
"To-night at midnight," Charley mused. "We had better go right over and tell the sheriff."
"That was the first thing I thought of," Walter said. "I was up at his house by sunrise the next morning but it was no use. His wife told me he was very ill and could not be seen."
"Queer, he is never around when that smuggling is going on," observed Charley, suspiciously. "I wonder if it can be that he is standing in with the smugglers for a share of the profits."
"Not Sheriff Daley," spoke up Bill Roberts, warmly. "He is as square a man as ever lived. Queer, though," he added, slowly, "I saw him just the day before and he looked the picture of health, but then, it may be appendicitis or some such sudden illness that's struck him."
"It's too bad," said Captain Westfield. "It leaves those rascals free to carry out their devilment. Of course, it's none of our business, but it seems wrong to have such things going on."
"No, of course it is none of our business," Charley agreed, hesitatingly. "How many of them are there in it, Walt? Did you hear?"
"Only the four that met," his chum replied. "They were discussing getting a couple more men to help, but Hunter objected as it would mean more division of the profits. He said the schooner's crew could help land the stuff."
"Did he say how many were on the schooner?" Bill Roberts inquired.
"Four men and a boy," replied Walter.