X--LIGHTS ON THE ISLAND
The information that Ben obtained that afternoon from Mr. Haskinsconcerning his sale of the snuff-box gave a new direction to histhoughts. He could not follow up this new clue just yet, however,without telling the others, and this he didn't want to do. They would bewaiting for him aboard the _Argo_, and so, after a fifteen-minute talkwith the shopkeeper, he hurried away to join them at the wharf.
One other thing he did, however, before the sailboat left Barmouth, andthat was to get a canoe he owned out from a shed on the waterfront andfasten it behind the _Argo_. If he had the _Red Rover_ with him--he hadlaboriously painted that name in orange letters on a scarlet backgroundon the canoe--he would be able to come and go about the harbor as hewished and to leave the island without explaining his plans, as he wouldhave to do if he wanted to take the sailboat.
"What's the idea?" asked David, who never overlooked a chance to ask aquestion. "Are you going to teach the Professor how to paddle a canoe?"
Ben nodded. "I thought that ought to be part of his education. The _RedRover's_ steady enough for any beginner to paddle."
Tuckerman looked askance at the little craft bobbing up and down in thewake of the _Argo_. "Any canoe's unsteady enough for me to upset in, Iguess. However, I like Ben's idea. It was thoughtful of you, my lad."
At that they all laughed, for whatever Ben's reason had been for wantingthe canoe at the island it was fairly obvious that he was not taking itthere to further John Tuckerman's seafaring education.
That evening, however, Tuckerman reminded Ben of his suggestion. Thewater was calm, the breeze was light. "How about a paddle?" he asked."Just along the shore? I promise not to rock the boat."
"Righto," said Ben. "Come on."
They went to the landing-stage at the pier and put the canoe in thewater. Ben got in at the stern and balanced the boat while Tuckermangingerly stepped in and squatted down at the bow.
"Not much room for long legs," said Tuckerman. "I'll have to tie mine upin a bow."
"You'll get used to it soon," encouraged Ben. "I'll do the steering. Allyou have to do is to put your paddle in, give a long, slow push, andtake it out again."
"Sounds easy enough." Tuckerman tried to shift the position of hisknees, with the result that the canoe rolled over almost far enough toship a gallon of water. He threw his weight the other way, and the canoenearly capsized.
"Plague take it!" he muttered. "It's worse than walking a tight-rope!"
"Easy there, easy," laughed Ben. "First rule in a canoe is never to movequickly. When you shift your weight, do it slowly. Pretty soon it'llcome as natural as riding a bicycle."
"Riding a balky horse, you mean," said Tuckerman. "All right; I'llremember." He dipped the tip of his paddle into the water and gave atiny shove.
Ben gave a long sweep with his paddle, a dexterous twist at the end ofthe stroke, and the _Red Rover_ floated smoothly away from thelanding-stage.
With Ben's coaching, Tuckerman soon was able to paddle fairly well. Hefound it somewhat difficult to keep the bow evenly balanced, but as Benanticipated his movements and shifted automatically from side to side,Tuckerman gained confidence and soon was sitting steady.
They paddled along shore, past the camp and on to the upper end of theisland. Tuckerman, feeling more and more at ease, was delighted with themotion, with the gentle swish of the water, with the still, starlitnight, with the panorama of beach and cliffs and woods as they floatedby.
"Let's go on around the island," he suggested. "This isn't real work atall."
Ben smiled to himself. He knew that Tuckerman would discover nextmorning several muscles in his back and shoulders that he wasn'taccustomed to feeling. But the night was perfect for a paddle. "Allright," he agreed. "No, don't you try to do any steering. The man in thestern does that." With a couple of twists he turned the bow to thenorth. "There," he said, "there's the cliff where Sampson hid the chestin the pocket."
Tuckerman turned to look. The _Red Rover_ wobbled, slanted.
Ben shifted and righted her quickly. "Hi there!" he warned.
"My mistake," said the penitent Tuckerman. "I see that it won't do forme to think of two things at once when I'm out on this lily-pad."
"Paddle--quickly now," Ben ordered. "But not too quickly. There's a ripoff that ledge."
They passed the rip and came into smoother water. Presently they were onthe ocean side of the island. "There's the creek where we saw thefootprints," said Ben.
"Don't point out anything else to me," said Tuckerman. "If I move myleft leg I can't get it back in place."
By the time they reached the southern end of the island the bow-paddlerfelt as if the muscles of his knees were tied in hard knots. "Do youmind," he said in a tone of apology, "if I stop paddling for a couple ofminutes and unwind myself? I'll move very slowly."
"Go ahead," said Ben. "I'll balance the canoe."
Tuckerman pushed himself back, then very carefully unwound his longlegs, stretched them out with an exclamation of relief, rubbed themuscles, and then readjusted himself in a new and more comfortableposition. "I suppose to be a really proficient canoeist," he observed,"one ought to be made of rubber. There--how's that? Didn't I do itcleverly?"
"Wonderful!" said Ben.
Tuckerman picked up his paddle again, and, proud of his ability to movewithout rocking the boat, stuck the paddle in the water and gave amighty sweep. The bow swung around, rocked, tilted; Tuckerman pressedhis arm hard on the left-hand gunwale.
"Hold on, Professor!" cried Ben. "We don't want to head out into theocean. Keep your paddle out of the water. Steady there!" With alternatestrokes to right and left Ben soon had the canoe back on its courseparallel to the shore.
"I _am_ a duffer," muttered Tuckerman contritely.
"Oh no, you're not," said Ben. "You're doing very well. Only you mustremember to let the stern man do the steering. A little more practiceand you'll find the _Red Rover_ as easy to manage as falling off a log."
"Falling off a log is good," was Tuckerman's comment. "Falling into thewater would be more like it."
They rounded the lower end of the island and came back on the bay side.They had almost reached the landing-stage when Ben said, "See, there's alight at Cotterell Hall. It's in the front door. It looks like a pocketflashlight. I suppose Tom and David went up there to get something."
Cautiously Tuckerman looked in the direction of the house. There was asmall circle of light. It moved away from the door; after a minute itshone through a window.
"I thought I locked the doors," he said. "However, they may have climbedin through a window."
The light disappeared. The canoe floated smoothly up to the stage, andBen held it level while Tuckerman climbed out. Ben jumped up lightly.Then they both pulled the _Red Rover_ out and turned it bottom side up.
They went up the walk to the house. The front door was shut, and whenTuckerman turned the knob he found that the door was locked. He openedit with his own key, and the two went in. The hall and the rooms weredark, there was no sound of voices or footsteps anywhere.
"That's funny," said Tuckerman. "We didn't see Tom and David come downthe path. Maybe they went out the back way."
But the kitchen door was locked, and when the two opened it and lookedout there was no sign of the others leaving in that direction.
"I wonder what they've been up to?" said Ben. "Playing some jokeperhaps."
They returned to the camp, and there were Tom and David, toastingmarshmallows on long sticks over a bed of hot coals.
"We were betting ten to one," said David, "that you'd come back nice andwet. Want to dry your clothes at the fire?"
"No, thanks," answered Tuckerman. "We've been all round the island, andwe didn't ship a thimbleful of water."
Tom glanced at Ben. "The Professor hasn't been fooling us, has he? Hedidn't know all about handling a canoe, did he?"
"No," said Ben with a smile. "He didn't know all about handling a canoewhen we s
tarted. But he knows almost everything about it now." Then, ashe sat down cross-legged on the grass, Ben said carelessly, "We saw yourlight in the house. I suppose you climbed in through a window."
"Saw our light in the house?" Tom echoed. "What are you giving us?"
His tone was perfectly sincere. Ben saw that he wasn't joking.
"Well, we certainly saw some light," Tuckerman stated. "It looked like apocket flashlight, at the front door and at one of the windows."
"Not guilty," said David. "Are you sure it wasn't a firefly?"
"You two have been right here ever since we left?" asked Ben.
"Yes," answered the two in chorus.
"And you haven't seen anyone land, or heard anyone?" Ben continued.
"No," came the chorus.
Ben looked at Tuckerman. "Well, someone was in the house. How aboutthat, Professor?"
"Somebody was. But I can't imagine what they could have been doing. Idon't suppose they were thieves."
"It's my opinion," said David sagely, "that they were hunting for thefamous Cotterell treasure. And now that you've found it, Benjie, I'dsuggest that you put up a big placard, stating 'The treasure has beenfound. No seekers need apply.'"
"Very good," said Ben. "Only the real treasure hasn't been found, yousee."
"What!" exclaimed David.
"No," said Ben, "that's my humble opinion." And then, as if he wanted tochange the subject, he added, "I'm going to toast one large, juicymarshmallow, and then I'm going to turn in."
Half-an-hour later the moon, riding up in the sky, looked down throughthe branches and saw that the four campers were sound asleep. There wasthe lap-lap of waves, the gentle purring noise as the water washed overpebbles, and in the tops of the pines a soft lullaby of the breeze.
Tom stirred, turned, opened his eyes. It seemed to him that somethinghad waked him. He looked about; there was only the familiar scene. Hegave a satisfied grunt and curled his head in the hollow of his arm.Then he looked around again to make sure that they had put out all theembers of the fire. And at some distance through the woods, in thedirection of the pier, he saw a light that moved.
Immediately he remembered what Ben and Tuckerman had said about seeing alight in the house. Noiselessly he got up, pulled on his shoes and stuckhis arms in his jacket. Through the woods he stole, stealthy as anIndian. The light had disappeared, but he thought he heard the sound offeet on the planks of the pier.
He came to the trees nearest to the clearing about Cotterell Hall. Thehouse was dark; there was no sound or light in the neighborhood. But hewas convinced that there had been someone there, and presently he dartedforward and crossed the open space to the shelter of the porch.
After a few minutes he stole to the corner of the house, and now hissearch was rewarded. Someone was leaving by the kitchen door. In themoonlight he counted three figures. They were heading away from theshore, toward the grove at the back; he guessed that they intended totake the path that led down to the creek.
Tom followed them at a distance. They went through the woods, and now hesaw the moonlight on the water. They had reached the head of the creek,but they didn't stop there. They went on along the bank to the highershore where the creek flowed into the ocean. Then for the first time Tomnoticed the silver tip of a sail. Lying flat behind a bush, he watchedthe three men go to the rim of the shore, and, one after another, slideover the edge where the boat waited.
He wanted to see that boat, to get a closer view of the men; but therewere no bushes between him and the shore. Now the tip of the sail wasbobbing, now it was filling out; presently it was moving to thesouthward, a white wing, still as a floating gull.
He crept forward and watched. The boat was stealing away, soon she wasonly a dancing speck of white in the glittering moonpath. He had no wayof identifying her or of making out her crew. He noted that she did notturn or tack when she came to the lower end of the island, but held onto a course that would bring her south along the main shore.
Tom stood up and eased his feelings by a long whistle. "What were theydoing here? It must be something mighty important," he said aloud.
No answer occurred to him, and after watching the sail until itdisappeared in the distance he turned and walked back to the house.
He tried both the doors; they were locked. He looked at the lowerwindows; they were all closed. He went down to the pier; the _Argo_ wasthere and the _Red Rover_; there was nothing to tell him what thesenight-time prowlers had been doing.
He went back by the beach to the camp. As he stepped up on to the bankBen opened his eyes and sat up. "Hello," he said sleepily. "Why, Tom,what are you doing?"
"Sh-ssh," murmured Tom.
Ben rubbed his eyes, crawled out of his bed, caught Tom's arm, andpulled him down to the beach. "What were you doing?" he demanded in aninsistent whisper.
"Well, I saw a light, and I went to find out what it was."
"Yes? And you saw them, did you?"
"Saw whom, Benjie?"
"Saw the pirates, did you?"
"The pirates! You're half-asleep. What are you talking about?"
Ben nodded his head. "Oh, I know something about them."
"Well, I saw three men. They went away in a sailboat."
"Who were they? What did they look like?"
"I don't know. I didn't get very close."
"I wish you'd taken me along with you. I'll bet I'd have found outsomething."
That nettled Tom, and he answered more loudly, "Oh, you would, wouldyou? I thought you knew all about them."
"Sh-ssh," muttered Ben. But David had wakened now, and his voice boomedout, "What are you two lobsters quarreling over?"
"Nothing," said Tom. "Keep quiet, or you'll wake the Professor."
Tuckerman sat up. "You don't mean to say it's morning!" he exclaimed.
"No, it's not," Tom answered. "Can't a fellow take a stroll in themoonlight without rousing the whole town?"
"Stroll in the moonlight!" chuckled David.
"Go on with your beauty sleep, Professor. That's what I'm going to do.Let the two lobsters fight it out."
"All right," said the sleepy Tuckerman, nestling down again.
Tom turned to Ben. "So you know something about these pirates, do you?"he asked. "What were they doing here?"
"That," said Ben, "is going to take some thinking. You see what you canfind out, and I'll see what I can. They won't be back here to-night. AndI'm too doggone sleepy to argue anyhow."
Peter Cotterell's Treasure Page 10
