The Boy Scouts on Picket Duty Part 2

That may stand for Bego or---bait."

CHAPTER III

ON A LONE SCOUT

The captain's oracular advice mystified the boys until, seated by their evening camp fire of driftwood, he explained to them that the mysterious box might be filled with articles such as Juan Bego and his men were both hiding and collecting.

"I dunno as he's been as far up the coast as this," Vinton added, "but 'twouldn't be hard for a sly old sea-dog like him to creep along these keys at night time 'most any distance."

"Are we far from the Everglades?" asked Billy, cautiously stirring the fire; for, in spite of the spring warmth, there was a decided chill in the air so close to the ocean.

"Well, the 'Glades are a good stiff hike from here," replied the captain. "Eh, Dave; how about it?"

The guide made no answer. Wearied with doing nothing all day, save lying around on the deck of the _Arrow_ a prey to seasickness, he had fallen asleep. Above the splash of the surf and the rustle of the wind in the palmettos, his snores could be heard distinctly, making night hideous. Alec was on the point of waking him with a nudge in the ribs, when Hugh restrained him.

"Let him sleep, Alec," he whispered. "Poor old Injun, he's comfortable at last!"

"So am I," added Chester, stretching himself out on the warm sand.

"This is better than those stuffy little bunks in the cabin, isn't it?"

The next minute he regretted those words, for Captain Vinton looked at him with an aggrieved expression, as if peeved to hear any disparagement of the _Arrow_. The good captain was inordinately proud of his sloop, which he preferred to all other craft; indeed, had he been offered the command of one of the gigantic Atlantic liners, it is likely that he would have declined the honor.

Presently Vinton rose and, beginning to stroll up and down the beach, looked all around him and up at the sky in the scrutinizing way which seafaring men have when they retire for the night or turn out in the morning, to ascertain what sort of weather they may expect.

Overhead, he saw large ma.s.ses of clouds scudding across the starry heavens, driven by the wind which bid fair to continue all night and all the next day. Off on the lagoon loomed the dark hulk and slender mast of the sloop, rising and falling on the choppy waves, her bow light gleaming across the water like a watchful eye. At his feet lay the dory, drawn up on the sand and moored by a line fastened to a palmetto, well out of reach of the rising tide.

Behind him sparkled the ruddy camp fire with the rec.u.mbent figures of the five scouts, Norton and the Indian grouped around it, and nearby lay the neat little pile of provisions and utensils covered with a tarpaulin. What matter if rain should chance to fall during the night? They had brought light blankets and rubber ponchos from the sloop, so they would be well protected.

Everything was safe and in order; he was satisfied and at peace with all mankind,---even with the smugglers who had roused his righteous wrath,---and his youthful companions were happy, enjoying the cruise and their adventures.

So unpromising did the weather beyond the keys look, and so congenial seemed the lagoon and this sheltered islet, the captain came to the conclusion that it would not be amiss if they should linger there a day or two longer than they had planned. After all, Alec's father had set no time limit for the cruise and the boys were in no hurry to return to Santario.

Thinking thus, he rejoined his crew around the fire and heard them discussing a plan to take the dory and row out on the lagoon in the morning, if it were not too rough, in the hope of catching some fresh fish for breakfast. He a.s.sented to this plan, for he himself intended to go aboard the _Arrow_ the first thing on the morrow to look her over and see how she had weathered the night. Wrapping himself in a blanket and bidding the boys follow his example, he lay down beside the embers and was soon asleep.

Hugh and Billy, lovers of surf-bathing, would fain have taken a dip into the breakers before going to sleep; but Alec sensibly counseled them against this.

"Wait till daylight If you shed your clothes now and go in, the mosquitoes will eat you alive before you're dry again," he warned them. "Besides, it's dangerous to go in around these sh.o.r.es in the darkness. You might stumble into a hole or a sea-puss and be carried out to sea before you knew what had happened. And Dave told me there are sharks that-----"

"Oh, forget it!" laughed Billy. "We have no intention of furnis.h.i.+ng supper to a shark. Anyway, real, live, man-eating sharks are as scarce as hens' teeth---almost."

Nevertheless, being overruled by Hugh, who saw the wisdom of Alec's advice, he promptly abandoned the desire for a plunge; and, as he soon learned, they did well to seek the protection of their smoke smudge, for the mosquitoes were truly formidable. Even under the canopy of smoke, these noxious insects darted viciously to bite and torment the campers. Time and time again, the boys were awakened from sleep by the attacks of these buzzing pests; but at last they grew more accustomed to such onslaughts, and pulling nets closely around their limbs and faces, they sank into deeper slumber.

"The evening red, the morning gray Sets the traveler on his way.

The evening gray, the morning red Brings showers down upon his head."

Hugh whispered these words softly to himself when he awoke in the dim twilight hour just before dawn. It was still too dark for him to distinguish objects clearly, and for a moment he felt that queer sensation of being lost, of not knowing just where he was---that feeling which sometimes comes to one even in the most familiar surroundings. At once, however, it left him, and the little rhyme crept into his mind instead.

"Wonder why I waked up so suddenly?" was his silent query as he lay there blinking up at the sky, watching the few visible stars grow pale and paler. "Thought I heard some noise like distant thunder, very far away, and then it changed into the sound of m.u.f.fled oars, or the tchug-chug-tchug of a motor boat. Then a voice said softly, 'It's a fine morn---' Oh, pshaw! Must have been dreaming. Is anybody else awake?"

He sat up and peered through the dusk. No, his companions were still asleep, p.r.o.ne on the sand. The breeze had lessened and the nocturnal insects had begun to take flight into the shadowy undergrowth, retreating before the advance of day. Across the dark stretch of water between this island and the mainland a flock of waterfowl flew noiselessly and vanished over the dunes. The surf broke with monotonous, soothing rhythm, stirring the silence with little waves of sound.

"It must have been the surf I heard," Hugh thought, still trying to decide what had roused him from sleep.

Quietly rising, so as not to disturb his friends, he stole down to the beach and stood gazing at the sloop, which now rode calmly at anchor, her bow light still s.h.i.+ning.

"And yet it did sound like a motor boat," he said aloud.

The sound of his own voice, breaking the stillness, almost startled him. With a short, low laugh at his habit of talking aloud when alone, he turned his back on camp and walked on for some little distance up the beach, until he rounded a curve of the sh.o.r.e and saw before him a narrow channel separating the island on which he stood from another, slightly larger. Clumps of young palms grew on that other island, taller and greener than those around the camping place. Hugh had been told that a palmetto bud cut out of a young, fresh, green palm would be fine with a piece of fat pork in making a stew; so he felt tempted to swim across the estuary and gather a choice bud.

The fact is, this desire was chiefly an excuse for a bit of exploration.

Hugh loved to prowl around in unfamiliar places even if he were alone, though he naturally preferred to share a quest of discoveries with some comrade. So now, shedding his coat, outer s.h.i.+rt, and shoes, but retaining his other garments for protection against mosquitoes, he dived into the inlet and swam across it easily.

Continuing his tramp, he presently found himself on the slope of a sandy mound which formed the northeastern extremity of the small island. From the top of this he could obtain a good view of the surrounding islands and the mainland. He sat down to rest on the mound and to enjoy the outlook.

By this time the eastern sky was beginning to show a pale rosy glow, and soon the first rays of the rising sun turned the edges of clouds into flame. Across this glowing expanse the mainland stretched as far as the eye could see, a dark, low-lying, emerald-hued ma.s.s, varied and mysterious.

As Hugh gazed, the sun rose into view, flooding earth and sky and sea with glorious light. The boy drew a deep breath of wonder and turned to look around him on all sides. As he did so, his eyes rested on something which changed his breath of admiration into a gasp of astonishment.

At the base of the mound on which he sat, partly hidden by clumps of stunted cypress and palms, was a small hut built of bamboo and thatched with palm leaves. It was built in the form of a lean-to against the slope of a sand dune near the sh.o.r.e, and at first glance it seemed to be part of the island itself. Indeed, it was so well concealed that Hugh might never have noticed it at all, save for the fact that he caught sight of a canoe with three men in it approaching the hut, from behind still another island.

Some instinct warned him not to let himself be seen, and he slid down from the top of the mound and lay flat, watching the canoe.

He felt like a scout in the enemy's territory, or a sentry on duty, stationed there to observe the actions of unknown foes.

To his surprise, the canoe came to land directly in front of the hut, and the three men sprang out into the shallow water and drew it up on the beach. From the bottom of the canoe they lifted a long object rolled in canvas. Suspending this from their shoulders, they disappeared into the hut.

CHAPTER IV

THE HUT ON THE BEACH

Hugh was agog with curiosity. He felt that he must find out who were those three stealthy strangers and what they were doing there.

"Perhaps they're smugglers," was his first thought. "If they are, I'd be doing a real service to Uncle Sam if I could report their whereabouts to the _Petrel_ when she comes back this way. Gee! it's worth the risk! Here goes!"

Without stopping to think much more about it, Hugh began to creep forward on hands and knees down the mound and quite close to the bamboo lean-to. Though usually unwilling to play the part of an eavesdropper, he felt justified in his present impulsive venture by the actions of the three men, for they seemed to be engaged in some underhand work which would not stand the light of day.

So hiding himself behind a cypress stump, Hugh listened eagerly, straining his ears to catch every word.

The men spoke in low voices so he could not hear everything, but he heard enough to convince him that they were indeed smugglers.

They were arranging to convey a cargo of dynamite from a point near the mouth of the little stream Sandgate on the peninsula (Florida) over to this retreat on the island. This was to be done on the first night when there was no moon and the wind was blowing off sh.o.r.e.