CHAPTER XVIII.

THE THREE CONSPIRATORS.

Harry made his way down to the dock, where the boat had been left, with “both eyes open,” as the saying goes. He did not fear that he would miss sighting whoever came off the _River Swallow_ as soon as they were sure that the boys had gone up town. Of course he was assuming that Malvin and the man he was certain he had spied earlier that day, would leave together. If they did this, even if they vacated the motor craft before he reached it, there was only one road that they could follow, and that was the street down which Harry was walking, the only thoroughfare that led to the dock.

As he hurried along, many thoughts surged into the lad’s mind. What was he to do in the event of the mysterious “third man” actually leaving the boat?

“I guess my best plan will be just to stick to their heels wherever they go,” he said to himself. “Yes,” he went on, busily turning matters over in his mind, “that’s the scheme. While Ralph and Harry are looking after things in town, this end of the game is up to your Uncle Dudley.”

As he neared the wharf, Harry became aware that great excitement and bustle were going forward there. The down river passenger boat had just arrived, and a number of people were struggling to disembark by way of the gang plank, while an equally determined crowd was striving to get on board. Suddenly the boy became aware of three figures among the crowd, whom he recognized instantly.

The trio was composed of Malvin, Hansen and another man.

As Harry saw this third member of the group, he almost gave vent to an involuntary cry of recognition.

The stranger was the same man whom they had encountered on Windmill Island on the eventful previous night.

There was no mistake. Harry recognized instantly every feature of the fellow’s face, which had been etched upon his mind with all the vividness of a photograph.

Harry’s pulses bounded as he made this discovery. So, then, it appeared that Ralph had been right. Unquestionably a link did exist between Windmill Island and Malvin, and also, apparently, Hansen, although the boy was morally certain that the obtuse Norwegian was merely an insignificant pawn in whatever mysterious game was being played by Malvin and the other man.

“Well, this is a discovery,” gasped the boy as he watched the three talking earnestly together, not far from where the _River Swallow_ lay tugging at her moorings.

Then, like a galvanic shock, another thought flashed through his mind.

The third man,—the man of the island,—was also, almost without question, the fellow whom Harry had seen slip along the deck and vanish down the forescuttle, when the Border Boys appeared to board the _River Swallow_ some time before they were expected.

The elation of this revelation was still stirring in the lad’s mind, when the three men, who seemed oblivious of the crowd about them, suddenly shoved their way through the press, and, walking side by side, set off up the road that led toward town.

This was insubordination of the rankest sort on Malvin’s part. He had been told by Ralph to stay by the boat. Now Harry’s mind alternated between indignation and curiosity as he saw the trio coming toward him. Near where he stood was a big pile of empty boxes and barrels. It was the work of only an instant for him to slip adroitly behind these and effectually conceal himself as the men advanced toward him.

They were talking earnestly and eagerly. As they came abreast of Harry’s place of concealment, he heard Malvin’s voice. The fellow evidently did not fear detection or eavesdroppers, for he was talking in a bold, loud voice.

“A lucky thing I hid in that shrubbery and overheard every word the young whelps were saying,” he was exclaiming. “Otherwise we might have walked right into a trap. What do you advise doing, Hawke?”

“So the man of the island is named Hawke, is he?” thought Harry, as he listened with every instinct strained. “Well, that’s one discovery, Mr. Malvin. Another one is that I was not mistaken when I thought I heard something in the shrubbery this afternoon.”

“Give me time to breathe a bit after my confinement in that gasoline compartment,” rejoined Hawke in a surly manner. “I thought I’d suffocate in there. That inquisitive young brat stayed down in the forepeak too long to suit me, I can tell you.”

“Well, it was a good thing I gave you warning by shouting, ‘Look out below,’” rejoined Malvin; “otherwise all our plans might have been upset.”

Hansen’s voice halted the two worthies just as Harry feared they were about to get out of earshot.

“Hold on, you fallers,” he heard the Norwegian say, “vile I skoll gat light by my pipe.”

“Hurry up, then. We’ve work ahead of us,” came Malvin’s voice. “Those brats are off up town to try to talk to Jim Whey. We want to get ahead of them.”

“If that boy talks, I’ll——” Hawke’s voice trailed off in a threatening growl.

“So Jim Whey is the name of that lad you said was your son till we called your bluff,” thought Harry, as he listened while the Norwegian struggled to get a light in the brisk breeze that was blowing.

“Pshaw! That lad won’t be able to talk for some time to come, if he was as badly hurt as you told me,” said Malvin, reassuringly. “It was right after I’d slipped my anchor and given the kids the go-by that I heard the explosion and saw the flash. I always told you to be careful about that dynamite, Hawke.”

“It was Rawson that would have it stored there,” grumbled the other. “He had a crazy notion that some time we might make a submarine mine out of it, and make things hot for anyone who came snooping around Windmill Island uninvited. How was I to know that that crazy dog would come galloping into the shack and upset the lamp and blow everything to Kingdom Come? If the boy and I hadn’t skinned out as soon as it happened, we’d neither of us be on earth to-night. I wonder where the _Artful Dodger_ was when things exploded?”

“I don’t know,” responded Malvin; “we’d sighted her not long before, and she played the phosphorescent trick, the light stunt and all, but it didn’t scare those pesky kids, except one of ’em who swore she was a spook!”

Hawke burst into a laugh. Harry’s ears burned as he heard.

“I wish they were all like that,” continued Malvin. “Confound them, they ran me out of a good job, and we can’t use the _River Swallow_ any more in our work. And not content with that, they’ve got to start chasing the _Artful Dodger_ now.”

“Well, they’ll chase her a precious long time before they get any satisfaction,” responded Hawke; “and then it’s liable to be in reverse English. Rawson isn’t the sort of man to stand for any monkey business. He’d as lief send ’em all to the bottom as eat, I reckon.”

“Yes, that’s Rawson,” agreed Malvin. “Well, Hansen, got your light?”

“Aye, aye,” growled the Norwegian.

“Then come on. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

The trio struck off up the road toward the town. Harry, after waiting what he deemed a safe period of time, slipped from his place of concealment and followed them.

His brain was fairly in a whirl with what he had overheard. It explained many things.

Judging from what the men had said, the “spook motor craft” was called the _Artful Dodger_ and was engaged in some nefarious business, as, indeed, the boys had already guessed. A man named Rawson was in command of her, and he was evidently a desperate character. The mention of the submarine mines, the explosive for which had been detonated by accident, amply demonstrated that.

Moreover, Malvin must have visited the island the night before, after they had left with the boy, and taken Hawke on board the _River Swallow_, concealing him in a small space under the gasoline tanks forward. Nor was this all. The injured lad, Jim Whey, was clearly a cog in the machine somewhere.

Also, judging from what he had overheard, Jim Whey knew much of the machinations of the gang of which, apparently, he was an unwilling member. Otherwise, why should the men have feared that he might talk to the lads who had rescued him? That Jim had revelations of importance to make, was clear from what had been said.

“I’ll have to hurry up and meet the others,” exclaimed Harry to himself as he hastened along, taking care to keep a safe distance behind the three men he could see ahead of him.

“My! I guess I’ve got something to tell them that won’t sound like any ghost story from Spook Land!”