Part 19 (1/2)
”Because some one might be spying and listening to us.”
”He's got that on his mind yet,” laughed one of the men. ”There's no one around here.”
”And if they were, what could they pick up?” demanded another.
”That's all right--it's best to be careful,” said the one called Hemp Danforth. ”I'm taking no chances. Some of us might--well, no telling what might happen to us if we was to be found out.”
”Don't talk that way,” spoke a tall, thin man. ”It isn't altogether cheerful--especially with what work we have on hand. Come on, now; let's make this pillar a little higher, and the light will show better.”
”Say, what do you imagine they are doing?” whispered Joe. ”It's a queer game, Blake.”
”It sure is. I've about made up my mind what they are up to, and yet I may be wrong. Let's wait here a while longer, and maybe we can pick up some information that will give us a better clue.”
The men were now engaged in heaping more stones on the pile where the lantern had set, and were making so much noise at it that the whispering of the boys could not be heard.
”Any special vessels in view?” asked one of the men, after they had worked away for some time in silence.
”No, but there'll sure be one along before long. We can count on that.
Of course, we'll have to keep the light going several nights, maybe, but it'll be worth while.”
”It ought to fool 'em, all right,” went on Hemp Danforth. ”If it hadn't been that Nate Duncan tripped us up, and didn't come across with that information we wanted, we wouldn't have all this trouble.”
For a moment Joe seemed to stiffen as he heard the name, and then, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, he turned to Blake and said:
”Did you hear that? These men know my father. They used his name.”
”Yes, but keep quiet!” urged Blake, for Joe had raised his voice. ”We don't want them to know we're here.”
”But they know my father, Blake,” went on Joe, using more caution, however, in his tones. ”I must speak to them. Maybe they were a.s.sociated with him in lighthouse work, and this may be some new patent lantern they're trying. Maybe my father hasn't gone to China at all, and these men can tell where he is.”
Joe made a move as though to leave the screened hiding place and approach the men.
”No--don't go!” whispered Blake, hoa.r.s.ely, holding his chum back. ”Stay here, Joe. Don't speak to those men!”
”But they have something to do with my father.”
”No matter; do as I say, please! Believe me, Joe, I can't explain now, for I promised I would not. But you'll understand--later. Don't approach those men!”
”Why not?”
”Because--well, I can't tell you!”
”Then I'm going!” declared Joe, half fiercely. ”Blake, I'm sure you're keeping something from me. I've suspected it for some time, for you've looked at me in a queer fas.h.i.+on when I spoke of my father. Now what is it?”
”Really, Joe, it's nothing--that is----”
”Yes, it is something. If you don't tell me I'll go out there and take the consequences!”
Joe broke from Blake's restraining grasp as he whispered this, and was about to dash for the bushes, when Hemp Danforth, das.h.i.+ng down a stone he was raising, cried out: