Part 18 (1/2)

But there was no use in regretting what had happened, and, after a hot breakfast in the airs.h.i.+p, with Mr. Damon presiding at the electrical stove, they all felt more hopeful. Mr. Whitford left for his office, promising to send word to Tom as to whether or not Andy was abroad in the airs.h.i.+p during the night.

”I wonder if that 'Committee of Three' is Andy and these two fellows with him in the airs.h.i.+p?” asked Ned.

”Hard telling,” responded his chum. ”Now for a good sleep. Koku, keep the crowd away while we have a rest,” for the giant had indulged in a good rest while the airs.h.i.+p was on patrol during the night.

Not so much of a crowd came out as on the first day, and Koku had little trouble in keeping them far enough away so that Tom and the others could get some rest. Koku walked about, brandis.h.i.+ng a big club, and looking as fierce as a giant in a fairy tale. It was afternoon when a message came from Mr. Whitford to the effect that Andy's airs.h.i.+p was not out the previous night, and that so far no clews had developed from the letter, or from any other source.

”We'll just have to keep our eyes open,” wrote Mr. Whitford. ”I think perhaps we are altogether wrong about the Fogers, unless they are deeper than I give them credit for. It might be well to let the smugglers think you are frightened, and go away for a day or so, selecting a more secluded spot to remain in. That may cause them to get bolder, and we may catch them unawares.”

”That's a good plan. I'll try it,” decided Tom. ”We'll move to-morrow to a new location.”

”Why not to-night?” asked Ned.

”Because it's getting late, and I want to circle about in daylight and pick out a good place. Morning will do all right.”

”Then you're not going out to-night?”

”No. Mr. Whitford writes that as goods were smuggled over last night it will hardly be likely that they will repeat the trick to-night.

We'll have a little rest.”

”Going to mount guard?” asked Ned.

”No, I don't think so. No one will disturb us.”

Afterward the young inventor wished that he had kept a better watch that night, for it nearly proved disastrous for him.

It must have been about midnight that Tom was awakened by a movement in the airs.h.i.+p.

”Who's that?” he asked suddenly.

”Koku,” came the rea.s.suring reply. ”Too hot to sleep in my bunk. I go out on deck.”

”All right, Koku,” and Tom dozed off again.

Suddenly he was awakened by the sound of a terrific scuffle on deck.

Up he jumped, rus.h.i.+ng toward the door that led from his sleeping cabin.

”What is it! What's the matter!” he cried.

There came the sound of a blow, a cry of pain, and then the report of a gun.

”Bless my cartridge belt!” cried Mr. Damon.

”What's the matter? Who is it? What happened?” yelled Ned, tumbling out of his bunk.

”Something wrong!” answered Tom, as he switched on the electric lights. He was just in time to see Koku wrench a gun from a man who stood near the pedestal, on which the great searchlight was poised.

Tossing the weapon aside, Koku caught up his club, and aimed a blow at the man. But the latter nimbly dodged and, a moment later leaped over the rail, followed by the giant.