The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast, Victor Appleton [e book reader for pc .TXT] 📗

the chase," replied Blake, and the two lads were soon down on the shore.

A look around showed no signs of the supposed wreckers, and a little later the two lads were in the lighthouse telling their story to the wondering and amazed keeper.

"So that's how the scoundrels are planning to work; are they?" cried the old man. "Going to duplicate my light, and fool the poor sailors! But we'll put a spoke in their wheel, boys. We'll spike their guns for 'em, and have 'em behind the bars, if there's any law in this land.

"Putting up a false light right opposite those rocks--the most dangerous on the coast! No punishment would be too bad for 'em. Did you happen to hear, boys, when they expected to play that wicked game?"

"They didn't mention any special night," replied Blake; "it seemed that they counted on getting some information which failed them--Joe's father," he added, thinking it well to let Mr. Stanton know that Joe had been informed of the secret.

"Joe's father; eh?" said the old man, musingly. "Boy, I'm mighty sorry for you," he said, softly; "for I know the disgrace is trying, and if it had been possible to keep this from you----"

"I'm glad I know!" burst out Joe. "There isn't going to be any disgrace. My father is innocent, I'm sure of it; and I believe we can prove it, once we have these wreckers arrested."

"That's the way to talk!" cried the old man. "Boys, I'll help you. We'll get right after these miscreants. Maybe I was wrong, after all, in thinking Nate Duncan guilty. He was a good man, and it made me feel bad even to suspect him."

"What do you think is the best thing to do?" asked Blake. "We ought to act quickly, or they may leave this part of the country, to try their scheme farther down the coast. It might succeed, then."

"That's right," declared Mr. Stanton. "We must act at once. My assistant is here now, and I'll have him go with you. I'm a little too old for such work. Besides, one of us will have to stay here to guard the light. No telling but what the scoundrels might try to wreck it. But if they come, I'll be ready for 'em!" he cried, as he took down an old-fashioned musket from the wall. "I'll stand by to repel boarders!" he exclaimed, holding the weapon above his head, and then sighting it at an imaginary enemy.

"I'll call my assistant," he went on. "Tom Cardiff is as sturdy a lad as you'd wish to see. He can get one of the men from the life saving station, and with a couple of the government secret service officers you ought to be able to get those wreckers, don't you think?"

"Sure!" cried Joe.

"Did you mean for us to help catch 'em?" asked Blake.

"I certainly did," went on the keeper. "That is, unless you're----"

"Afraid? Not a bit of it!" cried Blake, vigorously.

"Besides, you know just where they were located," continued Mr. Stanton.

"Though they may have taken the alarm and left," suggested Joe.

"Then we'll trace 'em!" cried his chum. "Where is your helper, Mr. Stanton?"

"I'll call him. I say Tom--Tom Cardiff!" he shouted up the lantern tower. "I'll finish cleaning the lens. I've got other work for you. Come down!"

"Coming!" was the answer, and a little later a well built young fellow, muscular and of fine appearance, greeted the boys. The introduction was soon made, and the story of the lads told.

"Wreckers; eh?" exclaimed Tom Cardiff. "I'd just like to get hold of some of the wretches," and he stretched out his vigorous arms.

"Well, get after 'em, then!" exclaimed the old man. "You don't want to lose any time. Telephone for the officers."

The wire was soon busy, and arrangements made for the secret service men to come to the lighthouse. One of the life saving squad, from a station a little farther down the coast, was also engaged.

"Now you boys had better go back to your place," said Mr. Stanton; "and arrange to come back to-night. That's the only time to get after these fellows. They probably have finished their work, from what you told me, and they'll lay low until it's dark. Then we'll get after 'em!"

CHAPTER XVIII (FAILURE)

 

"Boys, if you could only get moving pictures of the capture of the wreckers!"

Thus exclaimed Mr. Ringold when his two young employees told of the plans afoot and asked to be excused from work a little longer.

"It would be great," admitted Joe.

"But we'd need a powerful light," said Blake, "and if we had that it would warn the men we're after."

"That's so," spoke the theatrical man. "I guess it's out of the question. But you have done such wonderful work so far, that I'd like you to keep it up. A film of the capture of wreckers would make an audience sit up and take notice."

"I guess I'll have to invent some sort of a light that would make it possible," put in Mr. Hadley; "but I'm afraid I can't have it ready to-night."

"Then you don't mind if we go?" asked Blake.

"No, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Ringold, "and I wish you all success."

"It's going to be a dark night," remarked Blake, a little later, as he and Joe were on their way to the lighthouse. It was early evening, but the sky was clouding over and a wind was coming up that sent the big billows bounding up on the sand with a booming noise like the discharge of distant cannon.

"Yes, we'll have to sort of feel our way along," said Joe. "But I guess we can find the place, all right."

"I hope so. But I wonder if the men will come back after the alarm we gave 'em?"

"That's hard to tell, Blake. And yet they might; for, though they saw us, they may think we were only a couple of lads out for a stroll, who accidentally stumbled on their hiding place. In that case they wouldn't think we'd give any alarm, and they'd go on with their plans."

"That's so. Well, we'll see what happens. I hope there aren't too many of them, so that our men can handle them."

"That Tom Cardiff can get away with a couple on his own account, and with the life saver, and the secret service men, not to mention ourselves, Blake, I guess we'll make out all right."

"I reckon you and I together, Joe, can account for at least one," and Blake looked quizzically at his chum.

"I feel almost as if I could handle one alone, when I think of how they got my father into trouble," replied the other. "I'm going to give a good account of myself, if I get the chance."

"Same here. Well, there's the lighthouse just ahead, and two or three men waiting for us. I guess they're the ones we are to go with."

This proved to be the case, and a little later the boys were repeating to the life saver, and two secret service men, such parts of their story as Mr. Stanton and Tom Cardiff had omitted or forgotten.

"Well, if we're all ready, we may as well start," proposed Sam Wilton, one of the government agents. The other was Jerry Boundley, while the name of the life saver was Frank Hale.

"Yes, it's quite a tramp," said Tom Cardiff, "and the wreckers may be there now. Several small trading vessels are expected up the coast this week, and some may be due to-night. Though seeing that a storm is coming up, they may keep so far out from shore that they won't see the false lights, in case the wreckers try to work them.

"This is about as wicked a piece of work as could well be done, trying to wreck vessels this way. A sailor has to depend absolutely on the lights, under certain conditions, and if they're wrong, it's like leading a blind man into danger. So let's get after 'em and stop their work!"

The men well knew the way nearly to the place where the boys had discovered the wreckers at work, and so they would not have to rely on Joe and Blake to guide them until they were almost there.

"When you see that you are close to the place," said Tom Cardiff, "you boys go ahead, and we'll trail along after you. And keep mighty quiet, too. If we can catch these fellows actually in the act of showing a false light, so much better for the chances of convicting them."

They went on in the darkness. Back of them, as they mounted the hill which ended in the high cliff, could be seen the flashing light tended by aged Mr. Stanton.

"He's right on the job," remarked Tom Cardiff. "Even if he's an old man he'll stay up all night to attend to that light, to see that it's trimmed properly, that the machinery is working, that there's oil in the reservoir, and that the lenses are clean. That light is just like a son or daughter to him. He can't bear to have anything happen to it and the very idea of any scoundrels trying to wreck vessels by means of a false beacon riles him up considerable."

"I should think it would," agreed Mr. Wilton. "Well, if we can catch these fellows we'll put 'em where they can't do any more harm. And I hope we'll get back in time, so Mr. Stanton won't have to stay up all night."

"I hope so, too," put in Tom Cardiff. "He isn't equal to the task."

"We're getting close to the place now," said Blake, in a low voice a little later.

"Then you boys come up here," ordered Tom Cardiff, who, in a measure, was a sort of leader. "And everybody keep quiet. Don't talk, except in whispers, and make as little noise as you can."

Cautiously they advanced, the boys in the lead. The lads recognized, even in the darkness, some of the larger landmarks they had passed in their flight that afternoon.

"Hold on a minute, and listen," suggested the life saver. "Maybe we can hear them talking."

They paused, but the only sound that came was the booming of the surf on the rocks below.

"Can you see anything of a light?" asked Mr. Boundley.

"Not a thing," replied Joe, glancing all about him.

"Look up," directed Tom Cardiff. "That's the best way to locate a light that you can't see directly. You may catch its reflection on the night mist."

But the night was black all around them. Not a gleam could they make out. Once more they advanced until Joe and Blake recognized the place where they had been hiding, and whence they had looked into the open place where the wreckers had been putting up their false light.

"It's here!" whispered Blake.

"Just ahead there," added Joe.

"Get ready, men!" exclaimed Tom Cardiff, in a tense whisper. "We'll rush 'em before they know it--if they're here."

Stout clubs had been brought along in anticipation of a hand-to-hand struggle, it being decided that these weapons were best, safest and most effective at close quarters.

"All ready?" asked the leader.

"Yes--yes!" came the answers.

Blake leaned forward, cautiously parted the bushes and looked toward the open space. He had heard nothing, and seen nothing, and yet he knew that the men might