Part 7 (1/2)

But look as they would, they could see nothing further of a suspicious nature. Another hour pa.s.sed. Dinner time had long gone by. The one o'clock whistle had blown. And their own stomachs told them accurately what time it was; but they would not leave their post. Now that they had once scented their quarry, as it were, or believed that they had, they were like hounds on the trail. Their training at Camp Brady now showed its effect.

But the hours pa.s.sed, the afternoon waned, and nothing further occurred to draw their attention to the little house. Gradually their vigilance relaxed. Their eyes wandered again to that fascinating harbor scene, to the never-ending moving picture spread before them. Again they saw tugs and ferry-boats plying busily back and forth, and the flas.h.i.+ng sails of great schooners. But presently they saw something like nothing they had ever beheld. Far in the distance was a line of moving objects, gliding through the waves in stately fas.h.i.+on, approaching one behind the other at equal distances. Just what was approaching the two scouts could not at first determine, so indistinct in outline were the moving bulks. But presently, as the oncoming objects drew nearer, the watchers saw that they were great s.h.i.+ps. But they looked unlike any s.h.i.+ps they had ever seen or heard of. They seemed to be of no color and of every color. They were streaked and splotched in the most curious way. They looked as though some giant hand had flung eggs of different colors against their sides.

The boys looked at one another in astonishment. ”Well, what in the mischief ails those boats?” demanded Roy.

They were silent a moment, becoming more amazed than ever.

”I know,” cried Willie suddenly. ”They're camouflaged. They must be transports.” He turned his head for a glance at the house. ”Quick!”

he said. ”There's the man at the window again.”

For some minutes the figure before them stood motionless except for the movement of his field-gla.s.ses, with which he swept the oncoming fleet of transports. Then he drew back from the window again. The boys kept their eyes fastened on the little house. For a long time nothing occurred. Then a grocer's boy came in sight, struggling up the highway with a basket of supplies on his arm. The watchers paid small attention to him until he turned suddenly into the driveway leading up to the house. A moment later he had disappeared within the building.

”He's only a grocery boy,” said Roy.

”We'll have to watch him, anyway,” said Willie. ”I'll follow him when he comes out and you watch the house.”

They had not long to wait. In a few minutes the boy came out, his basket empty, and went skipping down the hill. Quick as a flash Willie scrambled to the roadway above, and, screened by the shrubbery, followed on the higher level. A quarter mile toward the ferry the two highways came together. Willie reached the intersection at almost the same time as the grocer's boy. Each took a glance at the other and kept on his way, Willie dropping a few yards behind the other lad.

A quarter of a mile further on the slope changed and the district was thickly built up. The errand boy soon entered a store. Willie had just time for a quick glance at the sign on the window. It read, ”Fritz Berger, Fancy Groceries.” Then Willie opened the door and followed the errand boy into the place.

A florid, burly man with upturned mustaches stood behind the counter.

The errand boy was talking to him. In his hand he held a silver dollar.

”Here is the money for Mr. Baum's sugar,” he was saying.

”Good!” said the grocer, seizing the coin, which he dropped in his pocket. Then he turned to Willie. ”Well?” he said inquiringly.

”Sugar,” said Willie. ”I want five pounds of sugar.”

”I have no more,” said the grocer. ”It is all sold.”

”Pshaw!” said Willie. ”Where can I get some?”

”I don't know,” said the grocer.

”Got any candy?” asked Willie.

”Sure. In that case.”

Willie walked to the show-case and slowly examined the stock. ”Give me ten cents' worth of those chocolates,” he finally ordered.

The storekeeper weighed out the candy and dumped it in a bag. He took the proffered dime, dropped it in his till, and turned away.

Willie left the store and stood for a moment undecided as to which way to go. ”Nothing doing there,” he said to himself. Then he turned a corner and started down the hill. The supper hour was approaching.

People were coming up the street from the ferry, homeward bound from Manhattan. A motor-car came chugging up the road and drew close to the curb. The driver turned his car about, clamped on the brake, and stepped out, leaving his engine running. Willie went on down the street and was soon in the midst of a throng coming up from the ferry.

He stopped to look at a jeweler's clock, turned about, and started on his way to rejoin Roy. Suddenly he heard the softly whistled signal of the wireless patrol. He turned sharply about and saw Captain Hardy across the street. He dodged a motor-car that was rooming down the hill and crossed to his captain. There had been no sign of life about the little house since the grocer's boy came out.

”Come,” said the leader. ”I have seen the Chief and he is going to arrange it so that we can watch this place in comfort. We will go back home now.”