Part 23 (1/2)

”In that boat when we first saw it. When we saw the Chinaman, you know, out on the Canadian side of the river. If there is anything wrong about these men--and the King of the Pipes--Bilby is mixed up with them.”

”I guess you are right, Ruth. Maybe that fellow is into more queer games than just trying to grab your Osage princess.”

”But more than that,” said Ruth much worried now, ”he may have so many friends on the Canadian side that he can trace Wonota and her father over there on Grenadier Island.”

”Better warn Mr. Hammond when he comes back from town,” suggested her friend. ”That Bilby seems to be universally troublesome. I'll say he is!”

They kept quiet after that, for the outline of the rocky island, with the blasted beech visible at its summit, came into view. Nothing stirred upon the island, nor was there any other boat in sight.

”Had we better venture ash.o.r.e?” breathed Ruth, again in doubt.

”Come on. Let's try it. I've got an electric torch in my pocket. We can find our way all over the island with that.”

It was true that the girl of the Red Mill felt some trepidation, but she had confidence in her companion's muscle and courage if not in his caution. Besides, she was very curious about the queer old man and the doings on his island.

Chess shut off the engine of the _Lauriette_ some distance from the island; but first he had gone above the rocky landing, so that the sluggish current between the islands drifted the motor-boat back upon that strand.

He went forward and, with a line in his hand, leaped ash.o.r.e the moment he could do so, and drew the _Lauriette_ in to the rock. Then he pa.s.sed the line around the very sapling to which Ruth had once fastened the canoe.

”Come on!” he whispered, offering his hand to the girl.

She leaped ash.o.r.e. They were both wearing canvas, rubber-soled, low shoes which made no noise on the stones. Chess drew forth the electric torch and tried it, turning the spot of light on the ground at their feet. It worked perfectly.

In his right-hand jacket pocket he carried an entirely different article, but he did not mention that fact to Ruth. She would not have gone with him had she known of the presence of the pistol. The possession of firearms would have, to her mind, at once taken the matter out of the realm of mere adventure into that of peril, and Ruth was not seeking such an experience.

She only half believed in the smugglers. She had seen some men in a boat at the island, but she doubted if it meant anything more than a fis.h.i.+ng party. Those boxes taken ash.o.r.e meant nothing much to her, if they did suggest some particularly interesting situation to Chess.

In fact, Copley had not fully taken Ruth into his confidence. He had reason to suspect that whoever might be on this island were law-breakers, and he really had no right to bring Ruth here. Tom Cameron would not have done it.

Copley was serious, however, in his intention of finding out if possible who was on the island; and when they had pa.s.sed up the rough path to the round table-stone, Ruth had got over her little s.h.i.+very feeling and was as eager as Chess himself.

They pa.s.sed carefully through the fringe of brush and reached the open s.p.a.ce where the blasted beech tree stood. The faint starlight illumined the s.p.a.ce, so that Chess did not need to use the torch in his left hand.

There was no tent set up here nor any other mark of human habitation.

Ruth knew that there was scarcely any other place on the island where a camp could be established. Had the people they had seen landing from the speedy launch gone away for good and taken their camp equipment with them?

Suddenly Copley seized her wrist. His touch was cold and betrayed the fact that he was nervous himself.

”Listen!” he whispered, his lips close to Ruth's ear.

Helen would have immediately been ”in a fidget,” and said so. But Ruth could restrain herself pretty well. She nodded so that Copley saw she heard him and was listening. They waited several moments.

”There!” breathed the young fellow again.

”What is it?” Ruth ventured.

”Somebody talking. Listen!”

There was a human voice near by. It sounded close to them, and yet its direction Ruth could not decide upon. There was a hollow, reverberating quality to the sounds that baffled determination as to their origin. But it was a human voice without doubt.