Dan Carter and the River Camp Part 32

"Jabowski wouldn't let us within a mile of the kid."

"Not if he could help himself."

Brad regarded Dan speculatively. "You're suggesting that we try to see him when Jabowski isn't around, Dan?"

"That's the general idea. If we could get to him he might talk. I've messed things up for the Cubs and I'd like to square myself if I could."

Brad thought over the proposal. "How'd we get to him?" he asked.

"We'd have to watch the place and sneak in whenever we got the chance."

"I don't think it will work," Brad said slowly. "But I'm willing to try.

Shall we tell the other Cubs?"

"Let's not, Brad. The idea may flop. Let's just slip away."

"I'll leave a note for Mr. Hatfield," Brad said, scribbling on the page of a notebook he took from his pocket. "If anything should happen that we don't get back right away, he might worry."

The older boy left the message in plain view on his bed. b.u.t.toning themselves into their slickers, the pair then quitted the tent.

Unnoticed, they followed the sh.o.r.e for a distance, and then sliced through the dunes to the woodland surrounding Jabowski's place.

As upon the first occasion they had viewed the old hotel, it appeared completely deserted. This time, however, the boys were not deceived.

"Jabowski and his nephew both are inside probably," Brad said. "Our only chance is to lie in wait until we see Jabowski leave. Then we might try to get in. We're taking a fearful chance though."

For three quarters of an hour, the two Cubs s.h.i.+vered in their inadequate shelter of bushes. Rain continued to fall. During the entire time, no one entered or left the hotel.

"We can't stick here forever," Brad said at length. "Mr. Hatfield will be sending a searching party after us."

"I guess my idea was a b.u.m one again," Dan admitted, brus.h.i.+ng a mop of damp hair from his eyes. "Want to leave?"

"Let's make a tour around the hotel first," Brad said.

Keeping out of sight, the pair crept through the bushes, completely circling the old building. No one was visible at any of the windows.

Finally they came to the river. Thrusting through a particularly dense thicket, Brad abruptly halted.

"h.e.l.lo?" he muttered. "What's this?"

Progress was barred by an acc.u.mulation of brush and debris. Pulling some of it aside, Brad saw a dark opening leading back under the rise of ground.

"Gosh, Dan," he murmured in awe. "This looks like the entrance to the old tunnel Mr. Hatfield told us about."

"It sure does," Dan agreed excitedly. "And someone's found it ahead of us. The sand which blocked the entrance was dug out, and then the opening hidden with all this brus.h.!.+"

"Let's find out where it goes!"

With no thought of personal danger, the boys pulled away enough debris to permit them to squeeze through into the dark tunnel.

In years past it had been bricked over, but now water oozed through many breaks in the walls and low ceiling.

"This must lead to the old hotel," Dan said, groping his way along the damp wall. "Maybe we'll get in after all!"

Before the boys had gone very far they came upon four st.u.r.dy sawhorses where a boat obviously had been allowed to rest while being painted.

Varnish and cans of half-used paint remained, but the boat had been removed.

"Dan, I get it all now!" Brad exclaimed. "That boat which struck Mr.

Holloway's sailing craft was painted and outfitted here in the tunnel!"

"And painted to resemble Mr. Manheim's speedboat!"

"That's the way I dope it, Dan. Let's see what lies further on."

Highly excited by their discovery, the two boys moved rapidly on down the tunnel. Presently, a series of ten stone steps led up to a small bricked room which they judged must be directly beneath the hotel.

But to the disappointment of the Cubs, the room was empty save for a few empty boxes, from which all markings carefully had been removed.

"Dan, you know what I think!" Brad exclaimed, taking care to keep his voice low-pitched so that it would not carry to the rooms above. "This room has been used for the storage of loot!"

"The furs stolen from the warehouse!"

"It wouldn't surprise me. Why, it was a perfect set-up! The crooks s.n.a.t.c.hed the stuff and made a quick dash across the river. No one became suspicious, because the boat looked exactly like Manheim's."

"They unloaded the boxes here, and then if police checked the boat, of course they'd find nothing!"

"Exactly! Then after the theft blew over and police weren't watching the waterfront as closely, they moved the stuff out and disposed of it."

"Brad, I was right after all! Jabowski is mixed up in this!"

"Maybe so, but we have no proof," Brad brought him up short. "While we're pretty certain in our own minds what happened, the evidence isn't conclusive. All we have here is a few empty boxes. It doesn't establish anyone's guilt."

"That's true," Dan admitted unwillingly. "If we went to the police with this, they'd probably give me the jolly ha-ha again."

"Let's see where this tunnel comes out," Brad proposed.

Quitting the bricked room, the boys followed a dark pa.s.sageway until they came to a solid oak door. It was locked.

"This is the end," Brad whispered. "The door must enter the hotel.

Jabowski may go back and forth, but he'd never admit it."

"What do you think we should do?"

"We'll tell Mr. Hatfield, of course. He may go to the police, but I doubt it. The Cubs already are in Dutch with Mr. Manheim. If we make any more accusations we can't prove, he'll have a right to be furious."

"But this we can prove," Dan argued. "The tunnel is here."

"That's the unfortunate part, Dan. It always has been here. We can't tie a thing onto Jabowski or those other fellows unless police should catch 'em red-handed."