The man slowed his walk.
"That fellow's got too much of our money to get away with it," he declared in tones too low to reach those ahead.
The man nodded. "We've got to take it from him," he agreed.
"We'd better wait until all the stuff is landed," planned Hunter. "We'll jump him just as he gets ready to leave and make him shell out. He can't make any trouble about it. He dasn't make any kick to the authorities. Tell the rest of the boys when you get a chance."
The whispered conference had taken less than a minute but the alert smuggler glanced suspiciously back at the two plotters and they quickened their steps.
"Our work is half done for us if they are going to fight amongst themselves," exulted Charley, as the procession passed out of hearing. "We had better wait till the trouble starts and then come down on them."
"Did you notice that smuggler captain's voice?" asked Captain Westfield, eagerly.
Walter's eyes were gleaming. "It's Manuel George, the Greek interpreter," he exclaimed, softly. "The rascal that caused us so much misery and stole our schooner from us."
"And that's our dear old 'Beauty' lying out there," declared Charley, a thrill in his voice. "We have got to take her, if we risk our lives doing it. But here they come back again."
The smugglers were losing no time but working with all possible rapidity. The first dingy load was quickly transferred to its hiding place and a second load brought ashore, the smuggler captain insisting on his pay before a case was unloaded, a third load quickly followed the second, and just as the morning star began to show in the east, the fourth and last load was brought ashore.