Part 16 (2/2)
”It looks dangerous enough in the dark,” remarked Joe, bending over and taking the ”weapon” with a laugh. He looked it over, then returned it to Tom, who, in turn, offered it to the officer.
”Drop it in your pocket,” said the latter. ”It ought to make you feel braver to feel such a thing next to your body.”
With a laugh Tom did as urged. The automobile soon made another stop at a boatyard. Here, again, the search was useless, so they kept on. A fourth was visited with no better result. They were now ten miles from Wood's Hole, but they kept on. A mile further on the car descended a low hill, toward the water, then turned almost at right angles. Just as they rounded this bend in the road Halstead leaned suddenly forward.
”Stop!” he called to the chauffeur.
”What's the matter?” asked Jennison, as the car halted.
”As we came around the bend the searchlight threw a ray between the trees, and I'm sure I saw a cabin sloop down in the offing,” Tom explained.
”_I_ didn't see it.”
”And I got only a brief glimpse,” Halstead rejoined. ”But don't you think it's worth our while to get out and go down to the water's edge?”
”Of course,” nodded the constable. The three piled out of the tonneau, leaving the chauffeur alone. Tom led the way, going straight between the trees down to the water.
”That's the very sloop, I'd almost swear,” whispered Tom, pointing to a craft at anchor a hundred yards or so from sh.o.r.e. A small boat lay hauled up on the beach. Not far from where the three stood was a ramshackle little shanty from which no light shone.
”We'll give our attention to the house, first,” declared the constable.
Accordingly they stepped up to the door, Jennison knocking loudly. From inside came a snore. The summons had to be repeated before a voice inside demanded:
”Who's there? What's wanted?”
”A traveler who wants to speak with you,” replied the officer.
There were sounds inside. Then the door opened. They were confronted by a white-haired old man, partly dressed and holding a lighted lantern. He made a venerable picture as he stood there in the doorway.
”Well?” he asked.
”That's your sloop out in the offing?” Jennison asked.
”Yes.”
”Did you use her to-day?”
”No; I rented her to a stranger, who wanted to go fis.h.i.+ng. I didn't know he had returned. Said he might be out most of the night, and the sloop wasn't back when I turned in at dark.”
”Wasn't, eh?” asked the constable, with quick interest. ”Now will you tell me what the stranger looked like?”
”Why, he was about forty-five, I guess. Rather heavily built. His skin was well-bronzed--”
”That's the man, French,” whispered Tom, nudging the officer. ”His face had been stained a good bronze color.”
”Did the stranger give any word about coming back at some other time?”
asked Jennison.
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