Chapter XII
THE NOTEBOOK
"Do you really think they'll be where we left them, Bill?"
"Why sure! You're not worrying, are you?"
The two were hurrying along the beach toward the spot where Dorothy haddropped to the sand and fallen asleep.
"Yes, I am."
"Well, it's Uncle Sam's loot, not ours. And I reckon he cares more aboutknowing how the smuggling was done than the contraband itself, anyway."
"I know. But that's only half of it. The gang has got to be rounded up.We don't know where they have their headquarters or who is in back ofthis business. So I'd hate to have to admit I'd lost the diamonds, afterall." Then, as Bill began to reply, she went on: "And don't forget thatTerry Walters is still missing--or was, when I flew over from New Canaanyesterday!"
"You're right, pal. I just didn't want you to take it too soberly. Butthat bearded aviator has got to be checked up. No easy matter, either,after what happened last night." He broke off sharply. "There are theold boxes--just where I dropped them--so you see you've had your worryfor nothing."
"Just the same, we've been terribly careless!"
"Don't rub it in," said Bill, looping the line and its dangling loadover his shoulder. "These things go to a bank for safe keeping just assoon as I can get rid of them."
Dorothy caught his arm. "Let's pry open one of the boxes, and make surethere really are diamonds inside."
"Nothing doing," Bill answered decisively. "They're going to be turnedover to the authorities--as is!"
"Well, you needn't be so snooty about it. But I am crazy to see thesparklers--especially after all we've been through to rescue them!"
"Of course,--I'm sorry," apologized Bill with a grin, "I'm kind of jumpythis morning, I guess. Me for bed as soon as I can find one. But youknow, we really can't open those things up, because we'd then be heldresponsible for contents--or no contents--as the case may be. See?"
"I didn't think about that, Bill. But let's forget the old boxes. I'mall in myself. Any idea what time it is? My watch has stopped."
Bill glanced at his wrist. "Just seven o'clock. Seems like noon to me.This nice warm sun is a wonderful help--I was chilled to the bone."
"Me too," said Dorothy. "Well, here we are at the motor sailor. Nothingto keep us longer on this island. I vote we shove off."
"Second the motion. Hop aboard and go aft. Your weight in the stern willhelp to raise her bow so I can push her out without breaking my back."
"How's that?" called Dorothy a minute later.
"Fine! Stand by for a shove!"
A heave of his shoulder against the bow loosened the boat's keel fromthe sand and Bill sprang aboard as she glided into deep water.
"Don't suppose there's a chart of the lower bay stowed in one of thoselockers?" he remarked as he started the engine. "The shallows are goingto be the limit to navigate without running aground. Do you mind seeingwhat you can find, Dorothy?"
"Not at all--seeing I've already found one," she laughed. "Came acrossit when I was looking for food."
"Good." Bill took over the wheel. "Let me see it, will you?"
Dorothy passed over the map. Bill studied it with a hand on the wheel.
"Thank goodness the deeper channels are marked," he ruminated, "that's ahelp, anyway."
Dorothy peered over his shoulder.
"That island must be one of those in Jones Inlet. I had no idea we'dgone so far west."
"All of fifteen miles as a plane flies to Babylon. No chance of makingany time until we get into South Oyster Bay which is really the westernend of Great South Bay. If we make Babylon by noon, we'll be lucky."
"No reason why we should both try to keep awake," observed Dorothy."I'll skipper this craft for a spell. Make yourself comfortablesomewhere and go to sleep. You'll be called at ten o'clock."
"But you need rest more than I do," began Bill.
"Oh, I had a snooze on the Mary Jane," she interrupted, "and got anotheron the sand this morning. Pipe down, sailor! This is your master's voicewhat's speaking. Excuse the ungarnished truth, but you look likesomething the cat brought in and didn't want!"
Bill's laugh ended in a yawn.
"Aye, aye, skipper. Call me at four bells. Night!"
He went forward and lay flat on the flooring, his head pillowed on hisarms. He was asleep almost immediately.
For the next couple of hours Dorothy steered a winding course among lowsandy islands and mudbanks. It was impossible to make any speed in theseshallow, tortuous waters and she was taking no chances on runningaground. It was monotonous work at best. She was deadly tired. There waslittle or no breeze and the sun, unshaded by the faintest wisp of cloud,fairly blistered the boat's paint with its fierce heat.
At ten she roused Bill, and as soon as he was sufficiently alert to takeover she went to sleep on the flooring in the shadow of a thwart.
It seemed as though she had but closed her eyes when Bill's voice calledher back to wakefulness.
"We're almost in," he reminded her. "Better run forward or I'm likely toram the dock."
Dorothy jumped to her feet and ran her fingers through her rumpled hair.She was astonished to see that the motor sailor was closing in on thedock of Yancy's Motor Boat garage.
"We must have made wonderful time--" she yawned, stumbling toward thebow.
"Only fair," Bill said. "It's almost noon. Snap into it, kid, and fendher off with the boathook."
Presently they were tied up to the dock and Dorothy was making a sketchytoilet with the aid of her compact.
"How about it, old sport?" she looked up from her mirror, busy with damppowder and lipstick. "What's on the program now? Thank goodness Wispy isstill at her mooring over there. I s'pose after we settle with Yancy forthe Mary Jane, we'd better take the plane and fly home."
"Eventually, yes," decided Bill. "I'll go up to the office and fixthings with Yancy. I've got to do some long distance telephoning,anyway, and park these boxes in a bank. It will save a lot of time ifyou'll go over this boat with a fine tooth comb while I'm gone. I don'texpect you'll find anything much, but there's no telling."
"All right," she nodded. "And while you're about it, get hold of thatletter I wrote Mr. Walters and phone Lizzy we will be home for a latelunch. The sooner we can get back to New Canaan and Little Dorothy cancrawl between clean sheets, the better she'll be pleased!"
"Yep. I'll work as fast as I can."
Bill clambered on to the dock and made off in the direction of the boatyard.
For the next hour Dorothy worked manfully, overhauling the motor sailor.Fierce rays of the noonday sun beat down on the open boat. She was wornout and dizzy, but stuck pluckily to her job, turning out the contentsof lockers and investigating every nook and cranny of the smugglers'craft. Except for an old coat and those odds and ends which accumulateaboard any boat as large as the motor sailor, she found absolutelynothing. Tired and hot and crazy for sleep, she decided to call off thisunprofitable search, when Bill's voice hailed her.
"Hello, there, pardner," he sang out, stepping aboard. "How are thingsgoing?"
Dorothy straightened her back and wiped the perspiration from herforehead with a sodden handkerchief. She noted the deep circles belowBill's eyes and the tired droop of his shoulders. He looked on the vergeof collapse, but his voice still held its hearty ring.
"Not so good, old timer. There isn't a blessed thing worth while aboardthis scow. Finish your business?"
"Reckon so. Got Washington on the phone and the big chief is tickledsilly with all we've done. Tell you more about it later. Yancy will berecompensed for the Mary Jane and will look after this motor sailoruntil the government men take her over. I got Lizzie on the wire. Sheexpects your father home tonight."
"Thanks. Did you get my letter, too?"
"It's in my pocket. I put the diamonds in a safe deposit box at a bankuptown. And I guess that's pretty much everything."
"You look done up
, Bill."
"I've felt sprucer. But you look pretty rocky yourself."
"Feel like a wet smack, thank you. The heat is terrible."
"Wait till I collect my duds and yours," he suggested, "and we'll beatit for New Canaan and Home Sweet Home!"
"They're rolled up in a sea bag," she told him. "Here it is."
She started toward him with the bag in her arms, stumbled and would havefallen had not Bill's steadying hand prevented.
"Kind o' wobbly, eh?"
"Not as bad as all that, Bill. Caught my toe in that floorboard. It'sloose."
"Have you had them up?"
"Why, no, I never thought of that."
Bill took the sea bag from her and tossed it on to the dock.
"Hop on a thwart," he prompted. "I don't suppose there's anything butbilgewater under the boards but we might as well have a look."
"Need a hand?" asked Dorothy, looking down at him.
"No, I guess not. These sections aren't heavy--" He broke off with asudden exclamation and fished up something from the wet.
"What is it?"
"Seems to be a notebook. Probably dropped out of either Donovan's orCharlie's pockets and got kicked under that loose flooring in the galelast night. But it's soaking wet and its pages are stuck together.Wonder if we'll be able to get anything out of it?"
Dorothy held out her hand.
"Give it to me. I'll dry it out on the dock while you look some more."
For the next few minutes Bill continued his search while Dorothy afterplacing the notebook on the decking of the dock watched it carefully,lest the light breeze blow it into the water.
At last he joined her and lifted the sea bag over his shoulder.
"How's it coming?"
"Not so good. It's going to take a long time to dry the book all the waythrough even in this sun."
"Then let's take it along to New Canaan. I'll get Dad to put it in ouroven as soon as we get home. That'll do the trick. Get aboard thatdinghy and I'll row you over to the plane."
Dorothy picked up the notebook and slipped it into her pocket.
"That's the best thing you've said today," she beamed, "I'll be home andasleep in twenty minutes! Come along."
Dorothy Dixon and the Mystery Plane Page 12
