The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI
JOE SUSPECTS SOMETHING
"What'll we do, Blake?" was the whispered question.
"Stay here, I guess. If we run they'll see us or hear us. Besides, we haven't done anything to run for."
"I know it, but those men look like ugly customers. I wonder what they can be up to?"
"They are—" began Blake, and then he pulled Joe down beside him in the bushes.
"He's turned off to one side," Blake went on. "He hasn't seen us, and he doesn't know just where to look. He may pass us by. Keep still!"
Together they crouched down. The man looked around as though to trace the noise which had been made when Joe accidentally stepped on a stick, which broke under his weight.
"Don't breathe," whispered Blake, with his lips close to Joe's ear. "I think he's going to pass us by."
The man paused, seemed as if about to come directly for them again, and then dashed off to one side. He made a leap into the bushes, only to discover nothing, as his chagrined exclamation showed.
"I told you so!" growled one of his companions. "It was only the wind."
"The wind doesn't break sticks," was the snappish reply.
Then it was a bird—maybe a fishhawk."
"Maybe," assented the man who had started to make the search. "But I thought some one was spying on us, and if they were" He did not finish, but glared angrily around. He was so close to the boys that they could hear his rapid breathing, but the leafy screen effectively hid them from view. "If I catch any one," he went on, "he'll wish he never ran across Hemp Danforth!" and he shook a big fist.
"Oh, come on!" called some of his companions. "There's lots to be done yet before we get this lantern finished. And if we want any rich pickings we'll have to hustle for 'em. The weather looks like it was going to break, and that will be just what we want. Come on, Hemp."
"All right, I will, only don't talk so bold and free."
"Why not?"
"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 hoarse 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 associated 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, hoarsely, 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 fashion 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, dashing down a stone he was raising, cried out:
"Boys, you can't fool me! There is some one here, and they're spying on us. I'll make 'em sorry for it! I hear whispering, and I've felt right along as though unseen eyes were looking at me. Now I'm going to find out who it is!"
Once more he started for the place where Blake and Joe were concealed. This time it could be seen that he would not be swerved from his quest.
"Come on, Joe. We've got to run for it!" exclaimed Blake, and, not caring now how much noise they made—being under the necessity of betraying their presence—they dashed back in the direction they had come.
"Here they are!" yelled Hemp, as he ran after them, tearing through the underbrush. "I knew we were being spied on! Come along, men!" he yelled.
Blake and Joe looked back as they got to the path that led along the cliff, below which was the rolling ocean. They had a glimpse of the big man racing after them, several others in his wake.
"Stop!" commanded Hemp Danforth. "Hold on, you spies!"
"Don't answer," advised Blake. "Save your breath for running, Joe."
"Um!" grunted his chum.
They were fleet of foot, and had a start. They were also lighter in weight than was their pursuer. In a short time they were well ahead.
"But he's still coming on!" declared Blake.
"We've got to give him the slip," declared Joe. "Can't you see some side path we can take?"
"Yes, here's one," was the panting answer, and at that moment Blake parted some low bushes and jumped into a sort of cross path, almost concealed from view. "Come on, Joe!"
His chum lost no time in following, and for a few moments, at least, they were comparatively safe.
"Now, Blake," said Joe, when they felt that they could slacken their pace to get their breath, "I want you to tell me that secret!"